Vicious Bet: Don't fall in love! (Sinners and Saints Book 1)

by Alice Ann Wonder

  I pricked up my ears when I heard them add, "He also teaches literature."

  She giggled and swept the copper hair off her shoulder with a shake of her head. "Lectures get hot!"

  Chloe joined in with her friend's giggles, whereupon I rolled my eyes.

  "I hope he's not as strict as Turner," muttered Chloe, sucking on her straw.

  She was holding an orange and cinnamon lemonade, the brand of which was registered last year by two graduates of Thorn.

  Since then, it has been available at every vending machine on campus.

  In addition, the organic drink containing sugar has already been imported into six other countries.

  Thorn's students were ambitious.

  While the members of the rowing team ran to their boats, my eyes suddenly fell on him.

  James Wyatt Cole.

  He was late, just like at almost every rowing event.

  And he was the last person who could afford to be late.

  He had a scholarship and, unlike most other students, he couldn't just suck up to Principal Campbell with a generous donation if he was too far out of line.

  If we were still talking, I'd have definitely already washed his head. Several times, if necessary. Because those events were very important to Harper Campbell.

  James wore a worn leather jacket, his hair was tousled - but not like Madox's, which I was sure he styled on purpose.

  No, James Wyatt Cole did not care if he was considered cool. He just was.

  His pants were dark and his sneakers grey or beige, I couldn't tell from my place up here.

  Cole had something of the young James Dean, only with brown hair - and he didn't smoke because he was sensible.

  Unlike me, he hadn't changed much in character.

  James was still the decent, nice boy next door.

  Only with more muscles, more distinctive features and bigger - much bigger.

  "So, are you stalking your childhood sweetheart again?" Madox teased me in a cynical tone.

  "He's not -" I started, but then I waved. "Oh, forget about it."

  I didn't have to explain myself - especially not to Madox Hanson!

  I just took a look over there, which was no crime!

  "Who is that over there, next to James?" Sky asked.

  She pointed to a slender girl who wore flashy cowboy boots with washed-out, tight-fitting jeans and creole earrings.

  She had blonde, damn short hair and big blue eyes. She reminded me a little of Taylor Swift.

  I shook my head, lost in thought.

  I'd been trying to get away from all these comparisons for some time. But somehow they kept creeping back into my head.

  Mom always annoyed me with the fact that I should use my imagination for something sensible - for example, to find a good job and the right - definitely filthy rich - man, instead of my mind games.

  As much as she annoyed me most of the time, she was probably right about that.

  "I don't know", I answered and checked the Swift-version again from top to bottom.

  She was quite pretty and laughing at something James had said.

  At that moment I felt a twinge in my heart.

  It was not about James, I didn't care about him anymore.

  All right - not completely indifferent, but he no longer interested me.

  Oh, what did I say - I had never been interested in him!

  We had once been friends, had grown apart and gone our separate ways. That's how it was sometimes in life.

  "Freshman," Madox remarked.

  "Oh, yeah?", I asked casually as I watched her and James looking for a seat in the bottom row of the grandstand.

  That's where the Thorn's few losers used to sit, but James probably didn't even know that.

  Or he did know and he didn't care.

  Either way - it was social suicide to sit in one of those seats.

  But I didn't have to care about that. I was sitting right, and that's all that mattered.

  "Do you know what the theme of Josh's party is going to be?" I asked the group to bring up another theme.

  "Bittersweet disaster," Sky explained, and gave Madox another angry look, because after her previous attack he had simply pulled a new joint out of his jacket pocket and set it on fire.

  Josh Hamilton wasn't one of us - his family wasn't rich enough, not even remotely - but that didn't change the fact that he threw a legendary party every year at the beginning of term.

  "That doesn't exactly leave much room for imagination," Madox joked, taking a deep breath from his smoking rod.

  When he blew the smoke in Sky's face afterwards, she slapped him.

  ... only to have Madox stick his tongue down her throat a few seconds later.

  They were a kind of a couple ...

  In the competition, four teams competed simultaneously.

  The boats were straightening up when someone covered my eyes from behind.

  I could tell by his aftershave that it was him, but I was still confused.

  A stupid habit!

  "Hey! What are you doing?" I shouted.

  "Surprise!"

  Liam gave me one of his wet kisses after he revealed himself to me.

  "Well, gorgeous, how's the situation?"

  "As usual," I replied, glancing once more at James and the new girl, who were chatting animatedly.

  "Will you make room for me?" Liam asked with a raised eyebrow, tearing me away from my thoughts.

  I averted my eyes from James and said: "Yes, of course!

  Then I slipped a bit to the right.

  The benches of the tribune were painted royal blue. It matched the colour of the Thorn jerseys perfectly.

  "What are you going to Josh's party as?" Sky asked when Liam sat down.

  The blond giant shrugged.

  "I don't know yet," he replied, eyeing me from the side. "What is my sweetheart in the mood for? Partner look?"

  I sighed inside.

  He knew I hated it when he called me that.

  But he did it again and again.

  Liam was incredibly sexy, with his tanned skin, snow-white teeth and the Ferrari he drove, but he had nothing more to offer than his good looks and a fat bank account.

  That was not bad, because with that he fitted exactly into my prey scheme. Guys like him were easily satisfied. Besides, they were usually good in bed. What more did I want?

  But Liam was starting to annoy me. It was time for me to dump him!

  Maybe Josh's party would be a good opportunity for that.

  I could get him drunk and reveal to him, just when he had the right amount of alcohol in him, that our paths would now part.

  "T-H-O-R-N!!!", we all chanted in unison one last time just before the starting signal.

  It was no big surprise that our team won first place again this semester.

  Benji held up the cup with one hand and was surrounded by dozens of women and shrieked.

  Rash, who was also a popular destination of love-hungry female students, stood casually next to him and drove his way through the black hair.

  Observing the scenario, one had the impression that Thorn's rowing team consisted only of these two muscle-bound athletes.

  For hardly anyone paid attention to the two remaining men.

  One could almost feel sorry for them.

  On the other hand, that was the pecking order at our college.

  Either you were beautiful, rich and popular - or you weren't.

  "What are we going as now?" Liam asked and put his arm around my shoulder.

  I barely rolled my eyes when I said, "Best pair of lovers ever."

  He smiled broadly and I was looking forward to getting rid of him.

  ***

  After the competition the newcomers got their introduction.

  Some of the older students - all of them nerds - led the newcomers around the area, holding up blue and gold flags.

  At the end all participants would get a free orange-cinnamon-limo.

  I
n contrast to most colleges, the first day for the newcomers resembled a class trip - only without the travel aspect.

  Thorn made his own rules - as did some of his students.

  The grey brickwork, which reminded a bit of a miniature edition of Hogwarts, was located in the immediate vicinity of English Bay Beach.

  In addition, it offered his just six hundred students an enormous, park-like green area lined with sugar maple, red and white pines, and yellow birches.

  "Remember," Sky began with a dreamy look as a bunch of young people passed by - most notably Chloe with a waving flag in her hand.

  Sky Penelope Evans grabbed my arm and leaned her head against my shoulder. "It feels like a lifetime since we were freshmen."

  She tinkled her black eyelashes and made a maudlin expression.

  "Like it was yesterday," Madox remarked.

  His voice dripped with irony.

  Sky ignored him and went on, "This semester is going to be phenomenal, I can feel it!"

  I nodded faintly, for at that moment in front of us, James and his blond cowboyboat companion turned onto the cobblestone road.

  Why didn't she join the tour? Perhaps she did not study here after all?

  "Your applause was more enthusiastic at times," Benji muttered behind us.

  I turned around and saw that he and Rash were being followed by a horde of whispering students.

  "If it weren't the same every semester, it would certainly be easier for us to show more enthusiasm," I answered and punched Benji on his steel-hard upper arm.

  He didn't care if we or anyone else cheered at his performances.

  He just wanted to tease us.

  Except for Madox, who once again stepped out of line, we all had the same classes.

  Right now, literature was on the agenda.

  Rash and Benji said goodbye to Madox with a handshake, while Sky and I nodded to him.

  It was only after I sat down in my usual place, between Benji and Rash, that I remembered that a new lecturer would be teaching us this semester.

  Artie Turner had died of a heart attack shortly before the semester began in September. My sister Lu had told me about it.

  She had heard about it at the Vice Club during a horse show.

  I had had to sit down immediately while I listened to Lu's explanations, because the news hit me hard.

  I liked Mr Turner very much, both as a person and as a lecturer.

  He was a good teacher who was always keen to help us as much as possible. He was also warm and he often made jokes that were not so funny. But because he was Artie Turner, people laughed anyway.

  I missed him, and the thought of him being gone hurt.

  "My name is Logan Edwards: E-D-W-A-R-D-S and I will be teaching you literature from now on."

  The new rowing instructor was actually our professor.

  Apparently, Melissa and Chloe were very well informed.

  I watched the young handsome man write his last name across the board in oversized letters.

  What an egomaniac, I thought to myself, while my gaze fell on his shapely butt, dressed in khaki trousers.

  Golden October lived up to its name this year.

  It was unusually warm and still allowed the wearing of short clothes.

  I was happy about this, but I was sure that the winter would be even colder.

  "I'm sorry for your loss," said Mr Edwards, looking me straight in the eye as he turned around.

  I swallowed and slipped restlessly in my chair.

  It was a reference to Mr Turner, I knew it. Yet the forcefulness of his gaze, together with the emphasis in his voice, made me think of my father as well.

  I was usually confident. Nothing - and no one - could upset me so quickly.

  But something about the way our new literature professor looked at me made me shiver.

  I was used to cold looks - Madox and not least Benji were real masters at it.

  It was unmistakable that behind their beautiful faces there were parts of a black soul hiding, with shallows that one would rather not get too close to.

  But Logan's azure blue eyes, with a hint of ashes mixed in, looked like those of a fallen, demonic angel bent on revenge.

  I couldn't figure out why he was staring at me so angrily. Maybe it was just my imagination, but...

  A ball of paper found its way to me.

  Rash put it in front of my pencil case and pointed hardly noticeably to Sky.

  She threw a conspiratorial glance at me.

  I frowned as I slowly unfolded the ball.

  "The way he glares at you!" was written in Sky's trademark scrawl.

  I looked at her. She raised and lowered her eyebrows in a quick rhythm, her eyes first on the professor and then on me.

  I pressed my lips together and moaned softly.

  "He's only just out of diaper age," I wrote back and pushed the crumpled piece of paper back towards Rash.

  "I didn't know Mr Turner, but be assured that I will complete his unfinished work to the best of my ability," Edwards said in a loud voice, and I was startled when I noticed that he had come up the stairs by now.

  He was now standing in our row, right next to Sky, who tried to push her fingers protectively on the message in micro movements.

  Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Benji grinning devilishly as Mr Edwards reached for the note in Sky's seat and read it silently.

  "Starting with last term's homework," he said slowly, looking up again

  Once again his eyes met me.

  I looked back at him, though I'd like nothing better than to be evasive.

  He wore a three-day beard, which was quite inappropriate for a lecturer and probably just to hide the fact that he was only in his early thirties, if at all.

  With his hair casually waxed back, he looked like the heartthrob par excellence.

  But despite his good looks, a dark aura surrounded him.

  Nobody but me seemed to notice it. The other students were so blatantly pining over him that it was almost embarrassing.

  They fluttered their eyelashes, pushed their breasts up and applied lip gloss every second as if they were Reese Witherspoon in Naturally Blonde.

  I was glad when Mr Edwards turned around and went back down to his desk

  He tossed the note neatly into the wastepaper basket beside the entrance

  But not without giving our row one last stern look

  Thank God, this time it did not fall only on me!

  "Ouch", Sky formed with her lips as he bent down and took a thick stack of notes out of his brown leather bag.

  I rolled my eyes and whispered "Idiot!" to her while pointing my pen in Edwar's direction.

  "Blaire Ella Spencer?"

  Of course he called my name first!

  I bit my lower lip and raised my hand.

  Professor Logan Edwards came up to me and handed me my stapled paper

  When I reached for it, he said, "Looks like we have a lot of work to do this semester, Ms Spencer."

  I arched my eyebrows and looked at him with a skeptical look.

  My paper was first-rate - as were all my papers - and I knew it!

  I pulled at the stack of notes as I glanced at the red-curled note in the top corner.

  For a split second I had the feeling Edwards wouldn't let go. I looked at him irritated, whereupon the corner of his left mouth twitched upwards.

  "If you want to succeed with me, you'll have to try a little harder," he said and gave in.

  I literally froze when I saw how he had graded me.

  "C Minus?", I shouted stunned.

  "Sit down," Edwards replied sternly.

  I didn't even know I was out of bed.

  "But -" I stammered, still holding the work in my hand. "It can't be."

  Could he have switched names?

  Carelessly, I leafed through the notes. It was clearly my handwriting.

  "Sit down, I said," Edwards asked me again, this time in a much sharper tone.

  "
Blaire," Sky hissed from the side as I made no move.

  "It can't be," I repeated in a firm voice once more.

  Logan Edwards turned his back on me and went to the blackboard.

  "Pack your bags and report to Principal Campbell."

  "What?" it shot out of me. "Why?"

  You got to be kidding me! What was wrong with that pompous, pretentious professor?

  "No talking back in my lecture hall," Edwards remarked, unimpressed, and reached for the next paper in the pile.

  "Where are we here - with the Nazis or what?", Benji came to my aid.

  "Go right along, Mr King."

  Benji laughed hard.

  "I'd love nothing more, Mr H."

  I was confused that he knew Benji's name and could place him in the pile.

  But I was too upset to think about it any further.

  After the professor called the next one, I opened my mouth again to protest loudly. But Benji grabbed my wrist with a jerk and pulled me behind him, down the outside stairs.

  I snorted.

  "What was that," I asked angrily, as if he could give me a satisfactory answer.

  "Looks like we have a new favorite teacher," Benji replied amusedly, making the door slam with a loud bang.

  "That's not funny!"

  I gently slapped him on the back with my flat hand.

  "In a way," he remarked dryly.

  "My paper is a straight A!"

  I was boiling with rage. "Mr Turner would feel the same."

  "Why don't you call upstairs and see if he has a moment for you?" sneered Benji in a harsh voice.

  "You're disgusting," I returned with a sigh and rolled my eyes.

  "I'll sort it out, don't worry, B."

  Benji held the door open for me to the secretarial pool - the antechamber of Mr Campbell's office.

  Ms Patel, a sun-kissed half lndian, was smiling as we entered the room.

  She knew who we were and never bothered to ask about our business. Instead, she waved us straight through to Mr Campbell's office.

  Benji knocked twice until a loud "Come in!" sounded from inside.

  Mr Campbell was sitting behind his elaborately carved desk, holding a copy of Sports Illustrated in his hand.

  He was a tall man, with square shoulders, grey hair and a slightly forward leaning posture.

  For as long as I knew him - and that was quite a long time, since he was not only the rector of the Thorn but also a native of Vancouver - he wore sweaters with all kinds of patterns on them, summer and winter.