Page 7 of Wylder and the Almost Rockstar
“We’re all going to fail.” Diego buried his face in his hands.
“No.” Wylder stood and ruffled his hair. Diego wouldn’t fail anything. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
Devyn pursed her lips. “I honestly don’t know who cares about some ancient story. If he wanted to pick a book from our summer reading, he could have at least chosen Gatsby.” She sighed. “Wylder, when is Mr. Cook coming back?”
“What?” Wylder’s face reddened. “Why would I know that? I don’t know Se—Mr. Cook any more than you or Diego. Honestly, Devyn, you’re talking crazy.”
Devyn cocked her head, giving Wylder a strange look. “Um… I figured you’d talked to Logan since you guys are like frenemies or something.”
“Oh, right.” Wylder was an idiot. “I haven’t talked to Logan, but I need to get to music.” Contemporary Music class without Logan. It never got easier. She scooted past Devyn and made it to the door before Mr. Carlisle called her back.
“Miss Anderson? A word.”
She rolled her eyes, straightening her shoulders as she turned to him. “Yes, sir?”
“I know Mr. Cook took a special interest in you.”
She hiked her bag higher on her shoulder. “Not more than anyone else.”
“His notes say differently. He gave you chances to improve test grades, mused if you’d need extensions. Your name comes up quite a bit.”
“Is there a purpose to this chat?” She really didn’t want to talk about Sebastian, not with this man.
He rubbed his goatee. “I’d study for this test if I were you. Your easy ride is at an end while I am here.”
Wylder had to hold in the words she really wanted to say to him. “Yes, sir.”
“I am not as easily impressed as your classmates with light shows and music. Academics are what will shape your future, not frivolous musical pursuits.”
So, he’d seen the video. Her jaw clenched as she fought the urge to clock him. “Sure, Mr. Carlisle. Tell that to my brother.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed from the classroom.
Diego waited in the hall. He pushed off the wall to match her stride. “What did he want?”
“Just to tell me how useless I am.”
Killian jogged toward them, sliding an arm over Diego’s shoulders and stealing a kiss before shooting Wylder a grin. “Someone looks murderous.”
Students gawked as Wylder walked down the hall—just as they’d done for weeks. At least the underclassman didn’t know her. It irritated her more when her own classmates, the people who’d scorned her for the last year, looked at her like she was a celebrity.
Celebrities weren’t new to the academy. Most of the students had well-known parents. It was why they were there. But this was different.
“What are you looking at?” Wylder scowled at a freshman boy who scurried out of her way.
Beside her, Killian chuckled. “They love you.”
“They don’t know me.”
“So? Do Beckett’s fans know him?”
“No, if they did, they’d probably think he was an idiot.” Because he was kind of a goof. But it was one of the many reasons she loved him.
Killian grinned, and she wanted to wipe the smug look off his face.
“You could at least try to look like you’re not enjoying this.” She reached across Diego to push him.
“But, Wylds, that would be a very, very big lie. It’s your fifteen minutes.”
“I never wanted fifteen minutes.” She’d just wanted to fly under the radar.
