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I want to move my foot away, break the contact, but it’s stuck between one leg of the chair and Derek’s foot, and he is not backing away. It’s like he isn’t content just by sitting behind me, his presence looming over me for the next hour. No, he needs to have a physical connection, so that in case I can look past his shadow standing, or in this case sitting, behind me, I can’t ignore the connection between us.

Why is he doing this? What does it matter to him that Max is being nice to me?

Before this year we rarely saw each other, had few classes, but that’s it. Ohh, he and his friends were always somewhere around, teasing and embarrassing me, asking for homework, or leaving me with their part of a project, calling me by that awful nickname, Dotty Dalm. I hate it with everything in me.

When I was younger, I tried doing everything humanly possible to make my freckles disappear, but of course, there isn’t much one can do about it, so eventually I gave up. Still, after all these years, hearing that nickname never hurts less than that first time Andrew Hill called me by it.

There were also times when some of my stuff disappeared, or foot magically appeared in front of me, making me stumble, or I was pushed harder than necessary in the hallways. All situations that could be explained as accidents, and maybe they were and I was simply being paranoid.

Still, nothing explained what was going inside of Derek’s head these last few days or what he wants from me.

“The last pair will be Mr. King and Miss Campbell.”

Hearing my name called brings me out of my trip down memory lane and makes me lift my head and look at my teachers retreating back.

“What?” I murmur to myself, confused with what’s happening and what I’ve missed. A paper is laid on the desk in front of me, so I scan it quickly.

Project. Pairs. Latin America. Countries. Presentation.

I look at Brook, but she is staring at the paper in front of her, nervously biting her lip.

“This project is not just about mastering your language skills, but it’ll also give you a better sense of understanding Latin countries, what makes them special and unique. I want you to tell your classmates about the country’s history, population, culture, food, what makes their Spanish stand out in comparison with standard Spanish language and whatever else you find interesting and worth mentioning.” The bell rings, marking the end of the lesson. How did it pass so quickly? Chairs scrape against the floor as students all around me start to get up. “For any additional questions, you can always come and find me,” our teacher yells over the noise in the classroom.

Grabbing the books from the table in my hand I put the bag over my shoulder as I move towards the front of the classroom where Miss Rodriguez is putting her things away in her bag.

“Umm… Señorita Rodriguez,” I call tentatively trying to get her attention.

She turns around to look at me and smiles. “Si, Amelia, ¿cómo te puedo ayudar?”

“Hmm… Did I…” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Did I hear well? You paired me with Derek?”

“Yes, why?”

“We can’t work together,” I say quickly, my shaky voice resounding in an almost empty classroom.

Her brows lift high, almost touching her hairline. “Why not?”

“W–we just … we can’t,” I stutter. There is no way I can work with Derek, although I’m sure he won’t do any real work, but just the fact that his name is on the paper means he’ll have to come and talk to me. He’s doing plenty of that already without additional reasons.

“That’s not good enough reason Señorita Campbell,” she tells me and her eyes move over my shoulder. “Is there some kind of problem Señor King?”

I feel his presence close behind me, even before he opens his mouth. He is standing so close to me that I can feel heat radiating off his big body. “Not at all, Señorita Rodriguez. We’ll do it together, won’t we Amelia?”

Looking over my shoulder I see his sky blue eyes staring at me without blinking, a small smile playing on his lips, like a cat who is about to eat canary.

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” I mutter to myself but nod my head in confirmation for teacher’s sake.

Pressing the books closer to my chest, I move towards the exit, hoping to get away, but there is no such luck. Derek is right behind me. I stop at my locker to put my books away and take the ones I need just as Derek passes next to me.

Leaning over me, he whispers in my ear. “No, you don’t. Now you’re all mine, little one.”

Derek

Without waiting for her response I walk away, leaving her shell-shocked next to her locker.

“No, you don’t. Now you’re all mine, little one.”

It was funny seeing her reaction—hear that little, quiet gasp that left her pink lips, see shivers run through her body because my hot breath touched sensitive skin behind her ear, goosebumps rising on her soft, pale flesh.

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