Such a Good Girl by Amanda K. Morgan

Author:Amanda K. Morgan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse

SEVENTEEN

To Play

French class is French class.

Alex is Mr. Belrose.

I am a student. A straight-A student and head cheerleader. Someone who made a mistake and knows it.

I am a student who does not put up with anyone flirting with other girls. Especially not right in front of her.

Mr. Belrose hands out our essays. I haven’t let myself e-mail him or see him. I am good. I am the good girl everyone always thought I was.

He pauses a millisecond longer at my desk. A millisecond only I notice. I face straight forward. Thea giggles and tries to draw his attention.

He doesn’t even look at her.

“Verb forms,” Mr. Belrose says. “Let’s start with, uh, Miss Stone. Riley—‘to love.’ ”

“Oh. Hmm. I think it’s jouer.”

I fix him with an icy stare.

I have given him the French word for “play.” Because that’s what he’s done to me.

Play. I am his little game.

“Aimer, Mademoiselle Stone. Incorrect. Surprising.”

I stare at him, arms crossed over my chest, daring him to question me further.

He doesn’t. He moves on to Keatra, and then to Cay, then Garrett, and Teri Von Millhouse.

He doesn’t come back to me.

I don’t meet his eyes.

And when the bell rings, I pack up my books.

“Riley, I’ll need you to stay after class, please,” Mr. Belrose says. He’s not asking, either. His voice is a quiet command, and I want nothing more than to walk out the door with the rest of the students.

“Why?” I ask. My tone isn’t the respectful one I save for teachers, either. But he isn’t just my teacher anymore.

He doesn’t answer, only watches as the students file out of the room. I watch them too, my backpack slung over one arm. I drop it on the floor as Mr. Belrose follows Thea to the door and closes it after her.

And then we’re alone.

In his classroom.

During school hours.

Alarms go off in my head.

“You’re ignoring my e-mails,” he says.

I tilt my head at him. I had thought Alex Belrose was a smart guy. But he’s not acting like one. Not at all. “Well, I haven’t wanted to respond, particularly. Or see you.”

“Can I ask why?” His voice is quiet. And a little dangerous.

“How many special students do you have?”

“Excuse me?” He leans in, his hand next to his ear.

“How many goddamn girls are you inviting over?” I ask. “One for every high five?”

He smiles, his mouth pulled up just a little farther on one side than the other. “Is that what all this is about?” He motions at me.

I stand up a little straighter. “What do you think it’s about?”

“You think—you think there are others, Riley?”

“How am I supposed to know, Alex?” I snap, and then hate myself for using his name. Damn it. He’s not Alex anymore. He’s Mr. Belrose. My teacher.

Not someone who is fun to kiss.

He takes a step toward me, and I fight not to step back. I have to be strong.

“You’re the only one, Riley,” he whispers. “There’s no one else. I swear to God. There’s no one else in the world.

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