Page 5 of Ella's Masquerade
Ah, yes, the extracurriculars were always more important than the academics.
Which was exactly why Montgomery paused to consider the request.
“I will extend the assignment’s due date to next Friday,” she decided. “That should account for this week’s plans, yes?”
Tray actually appeared surprised.
The rest of the class looked relieved.
“But the assignment is to be completed outside of school. I expect thorough interviews and a truthful biography as a result.” She looked pointedly at the students who typically faked their way through this course. “No writing each other’s essays. I’ll know.”
That would be the easy way out.
But I knew better than to try Montgomery’s patience.
“In fact, I want at least two hours of logged time for the interviews, with thorough notes and visual proof that you met. That shouldn’t be too hard for those of you who adore your camera phones.” Her focus fell on Trina.
The blonde bundle of perfection simpered. “Of course, Professor Montgomery. That won’t be a problem for most of us.” She glanced at me with those words.
“I’ll be fine,” I drawled. “But thanks for your concern, Princess Perfect.”
“Poor new kid has to deal with the leaf lover,” Charlie added. “Sorry, buddy. I hope she at least showers before your interview date.”
“That’s enough, Mr. Anderson,” Professor Montgomery snapped. She was the only one in this whole school who ever sort of stood up for me. It made me love her and despise her at the same time.
I didn’t need a savior. I saved myself every damn day, thank you very much.
She dove into today’s lecture with a flourish, not wanting to waste another second. Which she knew would happen if she allowed me to speak up for myself. I had no problem putting Charlie Anderson in his place.
Tray tilted his chair to place his back to the wall, his sideways sprawl on his chair allowing him to see me and the front of the room at the same time.
I pretended not to notice him.
Not even when he looked directly at me.
Which, yeah, was awfully distracting. The male had a presence about him that just seemed to consume the room. And his attitude told me he knew it, too.
Definitely cocky with a hint of rebel underneath. Hence, the leather jacket. Something I just realized Professor Montgomery hadn’t commented on.
Strange.
She was usually a stickler for the dress code, having just—
“You don’t care for showers?” he asked softly, his voice pitched too low for anyone else to hear.
I blinked at him, startled by the mental interruption.
“Fascinating,” he added with a subtle sniff of the air. “You smell delicious to me.”
My eyes widened. “Excuse me?” I matched his pitch, not wanting to call attention to myself. The professor would not take kindly to us whispering during her lecture.
Tray opened his bag, pulled out a piece of paper, and doodled on it before sliding me the note. “Here’s my number. For our assignment.”
“I don’t have a phone,” I replied, passing it back. “We’ll need to meet through other means.”
His brow drew downward. “Who doesn’t have a phone in this century?”
“Me.” Because my stepmother insisted I didn’t need one.
