Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
And for some reason, he seemed to be pointedly ignoring Damon, not even looking at him as he settled to lean against his desk at the corner farthest away from the spot Damon had claimed.
That shouldn’t be so irritating.
But Damon held his tongue, while Rian leveled Valdez with a look that somehow managed to be gently stern, oxymoron and a goddamned half, but then that was Rian all the fuck over and it was really starting to annoy the fuck out of Damon.
“Come on, Merry,” Rian said patiently. “You can’t tell me you don’t know you’re holding a pretty shaky C in my class, while you’ve got steady As and Bs in every other course, and you’ve been a solid three-point-eight GPA since your freshman year. You’re not a slacker, and you keep up with your grades. So what’s going on here?”
Valdez shrugged, gaze skittering to the side, his jaw jutting forward. “Dunno, didn’t realize I was doing so bad. I mean, it’s art? It’s not like you give tests?”
“There have been four quizzes on the rise of the Renaissance and an essay on how that influences modern media today,” Rian pointed out dryly. “You slept through three of the quizzes, and never turned in the essay.”
“...oh.” Valdez sank down deeper into his chair, his chin practically disappearing into his collar, above the knot of his uniform tie. “I, um, forgot?”
“You forgot what?” Rian asked in that same dry, mild tone. “To turn in your essay, or to wake up for my class?”
“Yes...?”
“That wasn’t a yes or no question, Merry.” Rian sighed, folding his hands. “I’m not upset with you. I’m also aware a C in elective art isn’t that much of an impact on your final graduating GPA. I’m just wondering if there’s something going on that you want to talk about. When we’re stressed out by external factors, it affects our work.”
Valdez wouldn’t lift his head as he mumbled, “...like what...?”
“Problems with friends. Problems with your parents. Even being stretched too thin with social activities can make it hard to keep up with responsibilities.”
“You getting on okay with your roommate?” Damon added, even as he tried to rack his brain for Valdez’s room assignment. He thought Clark, maybe?
Rian let a soft hissing sound slip out under his breath, and Damon shot him a glare.
So sorry I didn’t keep my mouth shut, your highness.
Valdez just scrunched his face up. “I mean...we’re chill? We get along, not fighting or any shit. I mean, things are normal. Went out to the movies with Chris and a few others last weekend. Is that the kind of shit you’re talking about?”
“Maybe,” Rian said carefully. “Do you meet up with kids from other schools when you go out?”
“Not really. Like, it’s kinda a drive out here? And it’s boring out here. No one wants to come out to a Salem Lite knock-off for us,” Valdez scoffed. “I mean, there’s a few of the girls who live here, the ones who bus it out of town for school? But they think we’re all stuck up and weird. Except Chris. They’re all so in love with Chris the rest of us can’t even get a look.”
Damon went quiet, watching Valdez intently. Rian paused, too, lacing his hands together, looking at Valdez thoughtfully.
“Is there someone Chris is dating that you’re jealous of?” he asked.
Smart.
Frame asking about Chris as asking about Valdez.
“Don’t think Chris is dating anyone,” Valdez said diffidently. “There’d be a fuckin’ riot if he was, yeah? Like, pretty sure half our friends are into him, too? Even the ones who don’t swing that way. He starts dating one person, there’s gonna be a cage match.”
“Being popular must be so hard,” Damon said wryly.
“I wouldn’t know,” Valdez muttered, and Rian chuckled, but the worried question in his eyes didn’t match the curve of his lips, as he glanced at Damon.
His lips moved subtly, and Damon had to focus on them intently—how they bowed, the way the upper lip was slightly thicker and fuller than the lower, a small overbite that made Rian’s upper lip look like a luscious thing that needed to be bitten—to read what he was saying, the syllables carefully shaped out.
Want to try?
Damon shook his head slightly.
He didn’t think they’d get anything useful out of Valdez at this point.
Rian held his eye for a few moments longer, then nodded minutely and looked back at Valdez. “So nothing’s been going on with your life that’s affecting your performance in my class?”
“Nah,” Valdez retorted glibly. “I’m just no good at art, so I don’t feel like doing it.”
Rian slumped. “There are other elective classes besides mine,” he said flatly.
“Yeah, but Iseya’s a fucking tyrant in psych. You’re not.” Valdez shot a look over his shoulder at the row of sculptures on the back table. “Well, you fucking weren’t.”