teacher broke through the crowd to reach me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Care to explain what you were doing in there?” The teacher narrowed his eyes at me. Behind him, Vivvie began to gesture emphatically. She was freakishly skilled at charades. Following the gist, I glanced up at the roof. From where we were standing, you could see the edge of the roof, but you couldn’t see farther back, where I’d been standing.
“It’s a chapel,” I said, turning back to the teacher. “What do you think I was doing in there?”
The teacher was flummoxed.
I shrugged. “When you have to pray, you have to pray.” The teacher opened his mouth to reply, and I cut him off. “The Hardwicke chapel
is
open to students of all religious beliefs and affiliations,” I said. “Isn’t it?”
“Errr . . . yes,” the teacher replied. “Of course.” The man adjusted his tie, then zeroed in on a different target. “Mr. Rhodes!” he boomed.
The boy from the roof smiled charmingly. “Mr. Collins! Just the man I wanted to see.”
“Did you also hope to see Headmaster Raleigh?” the teacher countered. “Because if you did, you’re in luck.”
“I’m always in luck,” the boy—whose last name was apparently Rhodes—replied. “I think I got some really good shots up there.” As I processed the fact that
this
must be Emilia’s brother, the boy in question held up a camera, which he had most decidedly not been holding on the roof.
“You’re telling me you were up on the roof of the chapel taking pictures?” the teacher asked skeptically.
I gave the boy—Asher—a look. This was never going to work.
Asher met my eyes, and his own sparkled. I could practically
hear
him thinking,
challenge accepted
.
“I was digesting what you said in your lecture on perspective in photography,” he told the teacher. “You told us to think outside the box.” He tilted his head to the side. “I feel so . . .
edified
. . .”
I snorted. Audibly.
“Asher, do you think I’m stupid?” Mr. Collins scowled at him.
“Not at all,” Asher replied. “Do you think I’m edified?” He grinned. Beside me, Vivvie grinned. The smile was catching.
Mr. Collins shook his head. “Stay off the roof,” he ordered. Then he paused. “Stay off
all
the roofs.”
The fact that he felt he had to make that clarification told me a great deal about Asher Rhodes.
“Sir, yes, sir,” Asher replied. And then, to my shock, Mr. Collins left it at that. The other teacher didn’t say a word to Asher. It was like someone had just flashed the words
nothing to see here
on a neon sign. The crowd dissipated, and Asher met my eyes and arched a brow.
“What just happened here?” I asked Vivvie, bewildered.
Vivvie shrugged.
“People like me,” Asher informed me helpfully. “I’m very likable.”
“No, you aren’t.”
Asher grinned like I’d just professed my love for him. He lifted the camera up and snapped a picture of me. “Give it a couple of days,” he told me ominously. “You’ll see.”
CHAPTER 13
It didn’t take long for word to get around that I’d taken on Emilia’s case. Forget the fact that I
had not taken on Emilia’s case
. And the fact that random high school juniors didn’t just declare themselves in business and start “taking cases.” To the Hardwicke student body, the fact that I’d been with Asher and he’d managed to evade trouble was evidence enough that I was embracing my fixer title.
Like it or not, I
wasn’t
a random high school junior. I was Tess
Kendrick
. And between Anna Hayden and Emilia Rhodes, people were starting to think that meant something.
It was just my luck that Asher was in my World Issues class. He greeted our classmates by name and accepted a wide variety of high fives on his way to the seat next to mine. He blessed me with a goofy, beatific smile.
Kill me now.
“Congratulations,” Dr. Clark called out at the front of the room, clapping her hands together.
“I’m fine.”
“Care to explain what you were doing in there?” The teacher narrowed his eyes at me. Behind him, Vivvie began to gesture emphatically. She was freakishly skilled at charades. Following the gist, I glanced up at the roof. From where we were standing, you could see the edge of the roof, but you couldn’t see farther back, where I’d been standing.
“It’s a chapel,” I said, turning back to the teacher. “What do you think I was doing in there?”
The teacher was flummoxed.
I shrugged. “When you have to pray, you have to pray.” The teacher opened his mouth to reply, and I cut him off. “The Hardwicke chapel
is
open to students of all religious beliefs and affiliations,” I said. “Isn’t it?”
“Errr . . . yes,” the teacher replied. “Of course.” The man adjusted his tie, then zeroed in on a different target. “Mr. Rhodes!” he boomed.
The boy from the roof smiled charmingly. “Mr. Collins! Just the man I wanted to see.”
“Did you also hope to see Headmaster Raleigh?” the teacher countered. “Because if you did, you’re in luck.”
“I’m always in luck,” the boy—whose last name was apparently Rhodes—replied. “I think I got some really good shots up there.” As I processed the fact that
this
must be Emilia’s brother, the boy in question held up a camera, which he had most decidedly not been holding on the roof.
“You’re telling me you were up on the roof of the chapel taking pictures?” the teacher asked skeptically.
I gave the boy—Asher—a look. This was never going to work.
Asher met my eyes, and his own sparkled. I could practically
hear
him thinking,
challenge accepted
.
“I was digesting what you said in your lecture on perspective in photography,” he told the teacher. “You told us to think outside the box.” He tilted his head to the side. “I feel so . . .
edified
. . .”
I snorted. Audibly.
“Asher, do you think I’m stupid?” Mr. Collins scowled at him.
“Not at all,” Asher replied. “Do you think I’m edified?” He grinned. Beside me, Vivvie grinned. The smile was catching.
Mr. Collins shook his head. “Stay off the roof,” he ordered. Then he paused. “Stay off
all
the roofs.”
The fact that he felt he had to make that clarification told me a great deal about Asher Rhodes.
“Sir, yes, sir,” Asher replied. And then, to my shock, Mr. Collins left it at that. The other teacher didn’t say a word to Asher. It was like someone had just flashed the words
nothing to see here
on a neon sign. The crowd dissipated, and Asher met my eyes and arched a brow.
“What just happened here?” I asked Vivvie, bewildered.
Vivvie shrugged.
“People like me,” Asher informed me helpfully. “I’m very likable.”
“No, you aren’t.”
Asher grinned like I’d just professed my love for him. He lifted the camera up and snapped a picture of me. “Give it a couple of days,” he told me ominously. “You’ll see.”
CHAPTER 13
It didn’t take long for word to get around that I’d taken on Emilia’s case. Forget the fact that I
had not taken on Emilia’s case
. And the fact that random high school juniors didn’t just declare themselves in business and start “taking cases.” To the Hardwicke student body, the fact that I’d been with Asher and he’d managed to evade trouble was evidence enough that I was embracing my fixer title.
Like it or not, I
wasn’t
a random high school junior. I was Tess
Kendrick
. And between Anna Hayden and Emilia Rhodes, people were starting to think that meant something.
It was just my luck that Asher was in my World Issues class. He greeted our classmates by name and accepted a wide variety of high fives on his way to the seat next to mine. He blessed me with a goofy, beatific smile.
Kill me now.
“Congratulations,” Dr. Clark called out at the front of the room, clapping her hands together.
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