I sat in detention, my head in very close proximity with the desk.
Actually, I felt like banging my head against it in frustration.
My fingers curled around the edges of the desk.
I was angry.
Only then did I realize that my nails were actually creating grooves in the wood. I loosened my grip, now grasping my hand so tightly that it turned blue.
And then, suddenly, a voice was whispering something to me, warm breath tickling the shell of my ear.
“What are you doing in detention, Kay?”
My head shot up, colliding irately with a chin.
“Ow! God, what was that for? I know you’re not happy with me for some reason, but you shouldn’t hit me!”
I turned my gaze disbelievingly on the person I did not want to see.
Well, I don’t want to see lots of people, don’t I?
“What are you doing in detention, Prince Charming?”
Everett flushed scarlet at my new nickname, and then withered under my glare.
“I was delivering some documents for Mrs. Ramsey.”
“Keep being a good boy, then.”