After Clara made that comment, she sat on the couch and started scrolling through her phone. I kept standing, waiting for what would come next.
At first, I assumed she was reading something important, maybe preparing notes for whatever lesson Zayne wanted her to start with. But then the corner of her mouth curved, her thumbs moving fast across the screen, and I realized she was chatting.
I shifted on my feet, irritation sparking hot. “I’m still standing here, you know.”
That finally got her attention. Clara lifted her gaze, slowly. “So?”
The single word dripped with disdain.
“Are we starting, or are you just going to sit there?”
Her lips twitched, the faintest curl of a smile that wasn’t a smile at all. “Do you want to be the teacher instead?”
“No,” I replied.
“Exactly. So don’t te
