Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Also, she very clearly didn’t give a damn about what I was saying.
“I’m sorry, Miss Latimer,” she said with a shrug of her plump shoulders. “That’s the only spot I have open. Honors classes aren’t normally available to Nulls. Besides, there are only fifteen seats in our honors English class and all of them are filled.”
“But…but this is going to affect my college applications. I’m going to major in English Literature—how can I do that if I’m in remedial English?” I exclaimed.
“Well now, a degree like that won’t get you very far,” Mrs. Vernon objected. “You should forget about honors English and take something practical honey, like Home Economics,” she told me, with the air of someone older and wiser imparting valuable advice.
What so I can wind up as a school secretary? I wanted to ask but somehow I bit my tongue.
“I want to get a doctorate and teach someday,” I said stiffly. “I want to concentrate on Fourteenth Century English Literature. You know—Chaucer? The Canterbury Tales?”
“Ah yes, The Canterbury Tales,” a sarcastic voice murmured behind me. “Scintillating reading with the emphasis on sin.”
I whirled around to see a boy about my age or maybe a little older leaning against the door jam. There was something about him—something that momentarily took my breath away. He was tall and had a swimmer’s physique—muscular without being bulky—but that wasn’t what drew a little gasp from my lips.
He had the face of a fallen angel—perfectly chiseled with an angular jaw and cheekbones that looked like they could cut glass. I felt like I had seen that face before—perhaps in my dreams.
Or maybe in my nightmares.
For whatever reason, I couldn’t look away.
Despite his model looks, his beauty was somehow purely masculine. The hair that fell carelessly over his high forehead was so black it was almost blue but I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were because of the dark sunglasses he was wearing.
“Very funny, Griffin,” the secretary snapped at him with obvious dislike. “I was just explaining to Miss Latimer here that getting a degree in English isn’t the most practical career path.”
“Well it’s the path I’ve chosen,” I said, turning back to her and trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “And I need to be in AP English to get to it.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Latimer, but as I have explained that class is full.” Mrs. Vernon crossed her arms over her ample pink-flowered bosom and glared at me.
“You could let her sit in the back,” the boy called Griffin said, still lounging against the door jam. “She doesn’t look like she would bother anyone. Let her find out the hard way that AP English isn’t nearly as exciting as say, being a school busybody—I mean, secretary. After all, the greatest scholars are not usually the wisest people.”
I glanced at him, frowning. Had he just quoted Chaucer?
If he had, it clearly went right over the secretary’s head.
“That’s enough, Mr. Darkheart,” she huffed, her doughy cheeks turning an angry red and her tone going formal as she reverted to his last name. “I make the class schedules here and I won’t tolerate any sass about it.”
“So you’re in charge and what you say goes, even if it ruins someone’s future. Is that it?” he taunted. “Who are you, Mrs. Vernon, to stand between someone and their dream of higher learning? Who are you to ruin her futile little fantasy of getting out of this dump of a town forever?”
Mrs. Vernon’s face got even redder. “Mr. Darkheart! That is enough. You will shut your mouth at once if you don’t want more demerits than you can handle.”
I cast another quick glance at him. He was saying exactly what I was thinking, but he wasn’t helping my case at all.
“It’s okay,” I told him. “I can handle this myself.”
“You can, can you? How potent is the fancy!” he murmured, giving me what I assumed was a sardonic look from behind his dark shades. “People are so impressionable, they can die of imagination.”
This time I recognized the Chaucer quote at once. “You’re hilarious,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Mrs. Vernon didn’t appear to agree.
“Leave now, Mr. Darkheart,” she said, pointing at the door. “And since you’re so interested in her fate, you can take Miss Latimer with you to remedial English.”
He gave me a disinterested look.
“Now why would I want to do that? Let her find her own way.”
But despite his mocking words, he held the door open for me and nodded me through it.
I was reluctant to leave with my schedule still screwed up, but a look at the secretary’s red, angry face convinced me I wasn’t getting any further in my quest to get into the honors English class. Not at the moment, anyway. With a sigh, I left the office, which meant I had to pass within inches of Griffin’s tall frame.