INIQUITOUS

CHAPTER I

         Evil must go punished lest the wicked act again. Kindness mustn't be praised lest pride is born.

Frank Rider. He scribbled his name on the chalkboard with a broken piece of chalk, underlined it, turned and grinned a bright white smile. Gazes that had been trained on his plump ass, lifted and widened. Wow. He had a pretty face. Curly black hair, square-framed glasses, olive-shade eyes, a strong jaw, dark brown skin. "If it isn't obvious, I'm your new teacher." His voice was baritone-deep, like the sort of voice that might make a girl drop her knickers and spread her legs faster than the wind. "You'll call me sir, or Mr. Rider. I'm from California, born and raised in Hell's sweaty pits. I moved to Springbridge because I got offered a job. And that's about all you need to know about me. Now I want everyone to stand up. I've made a seating plan."

Students groaned and grumbled.

"I'm already on your guys' shit-list, huh?" he chuckled, slammed a hand on his desk suddenly, frightening the sleepier students. "UP! NOW! I don't have all day."

Chairs scraped back, whispers about what a dickhead the new teacher was flew around the classroom and we all piled to the front. "Winnie Huehnergard, step forward." Mr. Rider called, glancing down at a sheet of paper. "I didn't mess up your name, did I? Blame your parents. It's a weird name. You're at the back, by the window."

Winnie made a face at me. "Ugh," she muttered under her breath. "I swear if you're not next to me, I'll kill him."

"Get going, Huehnergard. You don't need to say goodbye, you're going to be here for the next two hours. Next: Leif Smith. You're on the next desk over. What is it with these names? Barney," Mr. Rider sighed, turning to look at us with distaste. "Barney Griffin. Step forward. You're next to Mr. Smith. Yuma Seigal? I hear you've got a twin. It's Oran, right? I hate twins. You're separated. By the wall, Yuma. In front of Heuhnergard, Oran."

The twins – pale girls with long black hair in a plait – were holding hands, trying to beg Mr. Rider to let them sit together. They never did anything without each other. They picked the same subjects, wore the same clothes – a skirt and tank top – and even packed the same lunch. It was weird. I felt bad for whoever was going to be paired with them.

Mr. Rider was irritated. He glared. "Listen up, class!" he smacked a hand against the blackboard, "You are not going off to war. You're a bunch of eighteen year olds, I'm certain you can survive sitting apart for one lesson."

"But sir, the twins are attached at the hip. You can't tear them apart." Giff Gebhardt explained. "They're super into magic and curses so I'd be careful if I were you. Pissing them off is not a good idea."

Mr. Rider asked for his name. "Well, Jif, today is your lucky day. You're next to Oran. Be careful. She might just turn you into a frog."

"It's Giff." He groused, knocking his bag into a chair as he stalked towards his assigned seat.

"It's detention," Mr. Rider corrected. "See me after class."

Some people raised their eyebrows, others frowned. He was a dick. Any thought of pulling the new teacher's leg flew out of the window. He might be attractive but his personality was the opposite. No-one dared to raise a fuss about being separated from their friends after Giff. Students hurried to their seats under the watchful glare of Mr. Rider. Soon, I was standing with Velvet Sholes. We were the only two left and the only desk free was the one in front of the teacher's desk. "Cleo Baggins, you're by the window. Is there a problem?"

"That window has a faulty lock. I get cold easily." I explained, hoping to appeal to his compassionate side.

"Then wear a coat. Velvet, you're by her." He dismissed me. "Hurry up, girls. Any time wasted now will be taken from your break."

Mr. Rider was out looking for enemies. He handed me a piece of paper and a pen. "Write down your email addresses. I'll be sending out mass messages every Monday and Friday and attaching your homework so make sure to write a current email that you'll check frequently. Failure to hand in homework will be dealt with severely. I'm not here to teach a class of slackers, you will keep up. Now while that's going around, I'm going to need twin one to get the books from the table and hand them out. Oran, I'm talking to you. Oran?"

She stared down at her desk, fists clenched in front of her. She didn't raise her head or speak. Mr. Rider strode forward until he was in front of her. The class watched with baited breath. He rapped a knuckle on her desk. "Is anyone home?" He waited. "Alright. This is ridiculous. Step out of the room, Oran. I won't have you disrupt the class."

"That's kind of harsh," I said. "She's crying."

"Excuse me?" he narrowed his harsh gaze at me. "Did I ask you to be a white knight? No? I thought not. Face the front."

"Piece of shit," I muttered under my breath. Velvet gave me a sympathetic look. She was a sweet, quiet girl. She wore denim dungarees, white socks and had frizzy purple hair.

"Get out of my classroom, Oran. I won't ask you again."

There was a sniff, a chair being kicked back, and running footsteps. Oran left, slammed the door shut after her. The class was stunned, shooting Mr. Rider a dark look. I glanced over my shoulder. He forced a cold smile. "There. No more interruptions. Pass the textbooks out, Jif." He returned to the front of the class. "Turn to page twelve. Answer question A to E. You have half an hour before I test your knowledge."

The class bustled, quiet noise filling the room. Mr. Rider sat down, I felt his stare and I looked up at him. "Detention for you, too," he said softly. "See me after class, Cleo."

My face twisted.

"Problem?"

I shook my head, took out my notepad, pencil stabbing at the paper as I wrote out the questions and answers. Halfway through the given time, Winnie walked to the front and handed Mr. Rider the sheet of paper with the email addresses. She stuck her tongue out at me as she returned to her seat. There was a moment of deadly silence from the teacher and then: "Who is 1dfanforever@gmail.com? Stand up." He sounded pissed. "I should give you a detention for the inappropriate name. Consider this a warning. Sit back down. Ten minutes until I quiz you. Be prepared."

Class was not going well. He fired off questions at random and became insistent when the answers were, "Uh...I think it's, um..." It was like being attacked. His contempt was made obvious. I got two out of three questions wrong and he acted like I had personally insulted him. It was ridiculous. When the bell rang, sighs of relief were heard. I forgot about the detention, packed my bag and was almost out of the door when a hand wrapped around my forearm, jerked me back. "I told you to stay after class, remember?" the look on his face was unnerving, eyes clouded. He shut the door. "Jif ran. If you see him, be sure to tell him how much trouble he's in."

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