Fire & Ice

Chapter Four

Frustration washed through me, causing me to be even more irritated. I should be used to it by now. Grabbing my pencil, I began flicking it back and forth, bouncing the eraser up and down against my notebook. This caused a few people to cast annoyed glances in my direction. Portia was one of them.

Her dark eyes widened briefly. I didn't break my stare away from her this time, watching the flush quickly spread over her pale skin before she quickly turned around, leaving me to gaze at the silky black hair cascading down her back. She really was a naturally beautiful girl; but either she didn't know it or she chose not to flaunt it.

"You're hot, you know that?" I mentally spoke, throwing my thoughts in her direction, watching carefully to see if there was a reaction. Nothing. "Do I make you nervous, baby?" Again, nothing. "If you can hear me, turn around and glance at the door." I figured there was a better chance of getting her to look away from me than at me.

There wasn't even a blip of movement from her. She didn't stiffen or seem scared at all. She remained completely relaxed. Well, at least as relaxed as she had been before. There were a million thoughts running through her head about how I made it into an Honors English class. Hmmm. Maybe she was as snotty as the rest of them. One thing was clear, though. Either she was a very impressive actress, or she couldn't hear me. I was pretty sure it was the latter.

A short, bald man with a shiny head entered the room. He was wearing a buttoned-to-the-collar white shirt, dark pants, and was carrying a cup of coffee. He headed immediately to his desk and sat down before surveying the room.

Gaze narrowing, he stared at me, then down at a paper on his desk. "Are you Mr. Mangum?" he asked curtly.

"Vance, yes," I replied, as all the heads in the room bobbed back and forth between us like they were watching a volleyball game.

"This paper says you were to report to my class yesterday; but you weren't here. Care to explain that?"

Digging into my pocket, I replied, "I have a signed excuse for you, Mr. Spacey." I couldn't seem to resist the opportunity to use his name. There was an audible gasp from the rest of the class and I lifted my head to glance around warily, wondering what had happened.

Oh, he's done it now. Portia's thought zipped through my head, but she turned away when I glanced in her direction.

I slowly stood and made my way toward the teacher's desk with my note. It seemed as if everyone in the class was holding their breath and I watched Mr. Spacey's face get redder as I approached.

"Normally, I'd give you detention for that remark, Mr. Mangum; but since you're new I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

"I'm sorry? I'm not sure what remark you're referring to." I had no clue what he was talking about.

"My name is pronounced Spah-say."

I struggled not to burst out laughing—a part of me seriously doubting this was true. "Oh, I see. So are you like French or something?"

Random giggles broke out behind me, but they were immediately silenced by a stern look from Mr. "Spah-say."

"My nationality is none of your concern," he said with a sniff and a condescending glance. "All you need to worry about is the fact that I'm your teacher and I'm here to guide you to a higher level of learning."

"Got it," I replied.

He frowned at me. "Why are you still standing here? Return to your seat."

"You still need to sign my note and give it back to me. I need it for my next class." I pointed to the pink piece of paper I'd laid on his desk.

He sighed heavily. Grabbing a pen from his pocket, he initialed the slip and handed it back. "There you go. Now open your books, please."

"Uh, I don't have any books. You haven't given them to me yet."

His jaw clenched as he stood and went to the shelves behind him, pulling two textbooks off and bringing them to me. "These have to be returned in pristine condition at the end of the year or you will be charged for them."

I placed my hands on them like I was being sworn in with a bible. "I wouldn't dream of defacing them." More snickers could be heard through the room as I returned to my seat.

"You'll have to try and catch up on your own, Mr. Mangum. I'm afraid the rest of the class is far ahead of you, and I certainly don't have the time to coach you through it. If you feel it is too difficult, then I'd be happy to help you get reassigned into one of the lower classes."

I closed my eyes, refusing to allow this man to bait me anymore. "I'll do my best," I replied civilly, before taking my seat once again.

---

"You honestly like her?" The voice of a guy standing two lockers down drifted to me as he spoke with his friend.

"Yeah! She's cute." He continued to get supplies from his locker.

"I thought you liked her friend Shelly."

The other boy shrugged. "I changed my mind. I think I might see how things go with Portia, instead. She's going to the game tonight. I told her I'd meet her there."

"So she agreed to meet you?" the first boy asked excitedly.

"Yep." The second one grinned. "Maybe I'll get a little action tonight." He slammed his locker shut and the two of them walked away laughing and high fiving.

A streak of anger coursed through me. This jerk thought he was getting some action off Portia? True, I didn't know her hardly at all, but she certainly didn't strike me as that kind of girl.

I followed the two of them down the hallway before grabbing a kid at the water fountain. "Hey, who are those two guys?" I asked, pointing as I held him by the collar.

"Uh," he sputtered in surprise. "Slade Hendricks and Shane Cooper." He pointed at each one.

"Thanks, dude," I replied, releasing him.

Slade Hendricks better not do anything to hurt Portia or he'd have hell to pay from me. And somehow, I didn't think Sean would mind much if I interfered.

Shaking my head, I turned and walked away in the opposite direction.