Part 16 (1/2)

I raise my fingers to my head and they flutter about like the movement can help him understand the organized chaos. ”I don't know how to describe it, but when my mind doesn't have something to work on, I feel like someone's peeling off my skin. My mom says I never relax, but how do I explain that crossword puzzles and those mind games on my phone are what help me unwind?”

I wish I would learn to shut up around him. I've spent too many years trying to keep this part of myself locked tight so no one can use it as ammunition against me and here I am handing it out freely.

”You're the coolest d.a.m.n person I've met,” he says.

On the inside, I'm smiling like an idiot. I may also be smiling like an idiot on the outside.

”If you're working on my code,” he says, ”then I'm still your bodyguard. Deal's still in place, and if it makes you feel better, then I won't involve the club.”

My happy moment withers. ”You know the whole bodyguard thing was a sham.”

Razor's mouth edges up and my breath catches. Good G.o.d, he's gorgeous with a frown, but he's perfection with a smile. ”I thought you were trying to hire me last week.”

”Would you hate me if I told you that you scared the h.e.l.l out of me last week and I said some stupid things I'm sorry for?”

”I'd like you more than I already do for being truthful. There's not too many people who can do honesty.”

The way he stares at me, as if he likes who I am, causes me to become shy. I run my fingers through my hair and pretend I'm crazy interested in the ends, because I have no idea what to do with myself now.

Razor doesn't propel the conversation along, so I do what any other self-respecting seventeen-year-old would do: change the subject. ”Mr. Duncan told me about this cla.s.s yesterday and he let me take the book home, so I read the syllabus and-”

”You memorized it,” Razor cuts me off with a grin.

I bob my head back and forth. ”Maybe.” Yes. ”Anyhow, there are projects and Mr. Duncan said we can do them together, but I'm not sure you'll want to work with me, because-”

”I do.”

I blow out a frustrated sigh. ”Razor-”

”We're working together. You're smart, I'm not.”

”You're one of four people who tested into AP physics. I'm not buying what you're selling. But anyhow, you need to remember how I explained I'm not good at math, and there is math in physics, so-”

He slices his hand across his throat, ending the discussion, and I snap my mouth shut. While me and big, bad hot biker guy may be forming some sort of strange friends.h.i.+p, I'm not pus.h.i.+ng him into conversations he doesn't want to have.

”Back to the deal.” There's a glint to Razor's eyes that's a hundred percent mischief and I'm tempted to play along. ”You crack my code and I'll continue to watch your back, and I'll even sweeten the pot. If you and your friends want to go out dancing, I'll be DD, mop the floor with any boys that try to cop a second-base feel, then I'll make sure you get safely home.”

I swallow at the thought of Razor being the guy stealing a second-base feel. I haven't been that far before. Bet he has. I bet he's full of all sorts of fun, fascinating moves. ”Thank you for the offer, but my clubbing days are officially over.”

”That's a shame.” His eyes wander the length of my body like he sees beyond my clothes. ”I loved the blue dress.”

Um... I've lost the ability to speak or to think or to do anything, so I flip through our textbook. Words. Words would be good. Any word. Preferably words that make sense.

”If we're working together, then you'll need to read the syllabus today. The first video is tomorrow. Did you know that everything falls at the same rate? Like if someone was to chuck you and me off a building at the same time, we'd both fall at the same rate of motion because of gravity? It's called acceleration of gravity. If you exclude wind resistance, everything, and I mean everything, falls at the same rate of 9.81 meters per second. You, me, cats, dogs, hedgehogs. We'll be doing a project on that.”

Yep, words.

”We're going to toss hedgehogs off a building?” he asks.

I try not to giggle at his bad joke and fail. ”An egg.”

”Good on the hedgehog. That could get messy. Speaking of throwing people off buildings, we have two options of how to handle Hewitt.”

And the conversation was going so well... ”What do you mean?”

”I can try scaring the h.e.l.l out of him,” he says, like we're discussing the weather.

”You already tried that and he said if you get involved in any way someone else will post the picture. I was in the bathroom, remember? Scaring him didn't work.”

His mouth twists up in a deadly way. ”That was me being friendly.”

I s.h.i.+ver despite the heat of the cramped room. ”What's the second option?”

”We get rid of the picture.”

”How?”

”By being smarter than them.”

It's like he's set out a puzzle and my mind is desperately trying to sort the pieces. ”Only way to get that photo is to know who is in the group a.s.sociated with the site and then hack into their computers and phones to delete it or destroy the hardware.”

He doesn't even blink at my words.

”I'm not a computer hacker,” I say. ”And I have no clue who he's working with.”

”You're not, but I know a few things about computers and you're smart. Together we can figure this out.”

I fiddle with the corner of the syllabus. ”I don't want to write the papers. If I do it for him, it's a lie he could hold over me forever-just like the picture.”

I could lose my chance at a scholars.h.i.+p or admission into my colleges of choice for cheating. My skull starts to feel as if it's collapsing in and I rub my temples as if that could help. I wish this problem would go away. I wish none of this had ever happened.

”Breanna,” he says, then goes quiet. I glance up and he continues, ”You won't write the papers and that picture will be deleted, okay?”

I nod and Razor seems to accept my answer. His eyes dart around my face as if he's waging an internal war. ”It's going to be h.e.l.l on you to be seen with me.”

It's not a question. It's a statement. A very, very true statement.

”If we're sharing,” he says, ”I'm going to catch h.e.l.l being around you.”

My eyebrows rise at this. ”Because I'm the epitome of trouble?”

He laughs and it's a glorious sound. One that warms my insides. But then the laugh turns a bit bitter and dies out. ”I've been warned I could hurt you without meaning to.”

My stomach sinks and my posture deflates along with it. Addison said the Terror have to follow orders or there are consequences. ”Have you been told to stay away from me?”

Razor's expression gives nothing away and in the silence I can hear the whispers of the boys on the other side of the room. I clear my throat and try a different question. ”Are you going to get in trouble for hanging out with me?”

”I'm running out of allies. Hanging with you might p.i.s.s off one of the few I have left.”

It's not really an answer. A million questions spring to mind about his club and who his allies are and who is warning him away from me and why, but the one single thought that wins out is... ”I don't want you to get in trouble over me.”