Marney in the Middle

Chapter 30: Unsolicited Advice

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing." I swipe my hand through the air in front of me, "Please, continue."

"He's afraid that this move has been stressful on you and thinks maybe the AP course isn't the right fit at the moment."

The heat drains from my face. That asshat. That complete and total jerk.

"What—no, of course not. I'm fine." Mr. Luke tilts his head to the side with a questioning expression. "I just got confused is all," I add. I swear to the gods, if Herkabe gets me pulled from my AP courses . . .

"Yes, that's what you said," he says while opening my folder. After a quick peek, he shuts it and looks up at me. "But you also said your confusion stemmed from an art class project, yet you're not taking an art class."

I grimace. Crap, just crap. Freaking Frizz-head and her stupid freaking prank. What a total bitch. In lieu of digging myself deeper with a new lie, I simply shrug. Let him think what he will. If he looked at my previous school's transcript, he'd know I'm intelligent enough to do well in the three measly AP courses I was given.

Mr. Luke shrugs and leans back in his chair. "Let's just keep an eye on that, shall we?"

I nod, "Sure."

We stare at each other for a few silent moments. Squirming, I look away. He has a few awards and certificates leaned against the wall on a filing cabinet. Some from his own school days and others that acknowledge him for 'excellence.' I get the feeling he's not like Mr. Herkabe, who intentionally and perpetually flaunts his various achievements, but right now the light-reflected glass annoys me. Who is he to judge me for some so-called confusion? Even if it were true, school is not a breeze by any means. Especially not high school.

A clock hung on the left wall opposite the window reads 9:01 am. First period is almost over, which means no Herkabe. I give a silent 'thank the gods' before I realize it also means no Malcolm.

Not sure how I feel about that.

"Are we done here," I finally ask as the silence becomes too uncomfortable.

"Actually, no."

I audibly groan and roll my eyes, making no move to retract either. He squints at me but doesn't say anything.

"I hear you've become involved with Mr. Wilkerson," he says in a nonchalant tone.

My jaw drops, "Excuse me?"

"Reese," he clarifies.

"Yeah, so?"

"So I was wondering if we could discuss that."

I shake my head, scowling at him. "I'm good, thanks."

"Here's the thing," he scoots to the edge of his seat and places his hands on the desktop, lacing his finger together. "I'm worried about you."

"Worried about me?" I snap. "You don't even know me." I can feel heat prickling my cheeks as I glare at the guidance counselor. Who does this guy think he is? And how the hell is my dating life his business? And, also, how does he even know about Reese and me?

"The Wilkersons have a reputation, Miss Dillon."

I don't reply as I continue to scowl. I want to tell him it's because of judgy asshats like him, but I keep the biting words to myself. There's a time and a place, Marney.

"I worry that your relationship with the eldest Wilkerson might send you down the wrong path," he continues in that smug voice of his. Suddenly the young guy isn't so cute. "A path that could ruin what you've worked so hard for – college, for instance."

I'm literally chewing holes into my cheek in an effort to keep my mouth shut at this point. Tapping my foot, I force my gaze right above his head. There's an odd faded mark in a square that I study with forced interest.

"Listen, I've upset you." No duh, jerk. "But I'm only looking out for you. You may, of course, do whatever you want. It's your life." Thank you so much for your permission. "I simply wanted to put this teenage romance into perspective."

Teenager romance? Oh, that's freaking it.

"Firstly, what I do out of school is entirely none of your business unless I make it so. And, secondly, how do you think the school district would feel if they learned you were so interested in a fifteen-year-old's romantic life?"

He sits up straighter, eyes becoming wide as he puts up his hands. I don't let him talk as I get up and grab my book bag.

"So, ya know, thanks so much for the nosiness and uncomfortableness. It was super fun. But I'll just go ahead and see myself out now."

He points toward the prank project and I cut him off. "Keep it." Giving him a scowling smile, I whirl around and stomp out of his office.

Nosy creep.