Page 10 of Ruin

“Sit next to your partners.” She waves her hand as if she doesn’t care what we do. I glance over at Trixie, who isn’t getting her stuff together to sit next to me.

“You might want to start moving,” I warn, “or we can make this fun.”

She finally turns to face me.

“I have an itch.” I laugh when Lileah slaps the back of my head, but I don’t take my eyes off Trixie.

“I can count if that helps.”

Fuck you, asshole.

She signs, then grabs her books off the table and stalks over to me.

I thought the other day she was only signing so I didn’t know what she was saying, but it seems it’s her only way of commutating.

She’s wearing a long black dress that hugs her body. Shame she hides it under all that fabric, because from what I can see, she’s got curves worth looking at.

Before she sits, I pull the desk closer to me. Once she’s sat down, I try to move some of her hair away from her face, but she instantly pulls back.

I lean in lowering my voice. “Next time you pull away from me, I’ll make you stay put. Understood?”

She nods slightly.

Satisfied, I brush the hair from her face, then quickly snatch her notepad from her pile.

She reaches for it, but I grab her wrist pulling it closer.

Her bracelets are all dragon-themed. Before I can move one of them to see her tattoo, she yanks her hand away and goes for her notepad.

I place it on the desk, flipping to a random page. If her clothes and makeup weren’t screaming,help me, these fucking drawings sure as hell are.

One page stops me. A self-portrait—but half of her face is a skeleton, cracked down the middle, with a light glowing from the eye socket.

Fuck, this is dark.

But also really fucking good.

I flip through a few more sketches, and pause again. My brows knit together. I glance at her once again, then back at the page.

She designs clothes. And then makes them.

I hand her the pad back, but she doesn’t look at me. Just stares straight ahead, listening to Miss Hill talk about the assignment.

I’ve no idea what we’re supposed to be doing, but I’m not worried. Lileah is in this class. She’ll fill me in because I don’t think Trixie will.

“Draw me,” I say.

She ignores me.

I slide the notepad back over, flipping it open to a blank page, and hand her my pen.

She ignores me.

I can’t help the smile. She hates me.

And for some reason, I’m okay with it.

“Are you coming to lunch?” Lileah asks, eyeing Trixie as she picks up the pen. “Or do you want to go out?”

---