His Only Exception

Volatile

“This is Sierra Quinn,” Cole begins, jumping in first. I barely catch anything else he says about her something about a summer abroad and dance training because I’m too busy staring at the notebook Adrian just handed back to me, my eyes locked on the words written across the page.



“You were both disrespectful to me and to your classmates,” Ms. Kline says after class as Brielle and I stand in front of her desk. 



“So you have a choice.” She holds up two detention slips in one hand and two sheets of paper in the other. “Either you stay after school today or you write a five-hundred-word essay on respect and hand it in tomorrow. Decide.” I grab a detention slip without thinking. Brielle reaches for the paper. Of course she does. 



“Do either of you have a problem with your assigned partners?” Ms. Kline asks. “Yes,” Brielle says at the exact same time I answer, “Nope.” Ms. Kline sets her glasses down slowly. “You two need to figure this out before the year is over. 



I’m not changing partners. You’re seniors you’ll deal with all kinds of people after graduation. If you don’t want to fail this class, I suggest you learn to work together instead of against each other. Now go.” I follow my unwilling lab partner out into the hall. “Stop following me,” she snaps, glancing around to see who’s watching us. 



Like I’m some kind of walking threat. “Wear something warm Saturday night,” I say, knowing I’m pushing her. I don’t usually bother, but she reacts and that makes it worth it. “It gets cold riding with me.” She spins around, hair flipping back, eyes sharp and cold. “Listen, Adrian. 



I don’t date guys who run with trouble, and I don’t get involved in that kind of life.” I step closer. “Good. Neither do I. And I’m not what you think.” “Sure,” she says. “I’m surprised you’re not locked up somewhere.” “You think you know me?” “I know enough.” She crosses her arms, then quickly drops them, suddenly self-aware. I step closer anyway. “Did you report me?” She steps back. “What if I did?” I tilt my head. “You’re scared of me.” 



Not a question. “People here think if they look at you the wrong way, something bad happens,” she says. I let out a short breath. “Then why are you still standing here?” “Give me a second,” she fires back. 



I’m done playing around. I close the distance, lowering my voice near her ear. 



“Your life’s too perfect. Too polished. Bet it gets boring. Bet part of you wants something real.” There’s a soft, warm scent around her sweet and distracting and I hate that I notice it. “Getting close to something dangerous doesn’t always mean you’ll get burned.” 



“Touch her and you’ll regret it,” Cole’s voice cuts in. I straighten and look over her shoulder. He’s there with three of his friends behind him like backup. Brielle exhales. “Cole, it’s fine. I can handle it.” I size them up quickly. I could take them. 



Not clean but enough. “Come back when you’re ready to step into something real,” I say coolly. “Then maybe I’ll care what you have to say.” More students gather around, forming a loose circle, waiting for something to happen. They don’t realize he usually backs off when it matters. 



This time he’s got an audience, though. Might be different. I’ve been in enough fights to know how this goes. “Cole, he’s not worth it,” Brielle says. Funny. “You threatening me?” Cole snaps, ignoring her. “No,” I say evenly. “People like you just like to talk.” 



Brielle steps between us, placing a hand against his chest. “Don’t listen to him.” 



“I’m not scared of you. My dad’s a lawyer,” Cole says, pulling her closer. “She’s mine. 



Don’t forget that.” I smirk slightly. “Then maybe keep a closer eye on her.” My friend Rafe appears beside me. “You good?” “Yeah,” I say, noticing two teachers coming down the hall with campus security. Exactly what Cole wants. Not happening. I’m not giving him that win. 



“All good.” I glance at Brielle. “See you around. Looking forward to that project.” I turn and walk off before this turns into something that gets me suspended on top of detention, leaving her standing there like I’m something she stepped in.