This is the sequel chapter to "The Mysterious School."
Click the series icon (the stack of squares under "Story Info") to see all the chapters.
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"Castella, come to my office," said Mr Bolton.
I jolted at his command, and became acutely aware of how few people were left on the college campus. But I wouldn't let him intimidate me.
He knit his brows as if perplexed. Despite all my doubts and fears, he was still so handsome with his glossy black hair and green eyes. "Surely you don't really believe the nonsense that Odette said."
I got strangely defensive. "How would I know? It's not like you would tell me the truth." I wasn't friends with Odette, and I didn't exactly trust her, but neither would I put my faith in Mr Bolton.
The man sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Odette is a rebel and a troublemaker. She is very clever, no doubt, but unfortunately doesn't put her smarts to better use. Don't believe what she says. She would say anything to trigger a reaction."
I considered it, though I still didn't want to go to his office alone. At least here in public he wouldn't dare do anything, right? Though a part of me wished that he would try. "What happened to the student who had an accident?" I asked.
"What?" He sounded mystified.
I gave him a look. "You know, the student who had an accident that Odette asked you to save?"
"Oh," said Mr Bolton. He furrowed his brows. "It wasn't an accident at all." He hesitated. "Odette clearly set it up to get me away. A part of the building was damaged, but thankfully nobody was hurt, just a few were in shock." He crossed his arms over his chest, looking stiff and tense.
I weighed my options. It wasn't like I would say no to a romp with him, but I had hoped it would be private and outside of school. Yes, I saw the hypocrisy of having the hots for my teacher, while condemning him for possibly fucking his students. Yet...
Mr Bolton glanced at me again. "Look, if you don't want to come to my office, you don't have to. And I'm genuinely not trying to lure you or anything, as Odette suggested." He rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to give you extra help with the course work, as you're clearly struggling."
As nice as he was to look at, he wasn't so nice to talk to. I pressed my lips firmly together, and stood my ground. "I can handle it myself." Or I could ask Odette for help, as disagreeable as she could be.
Mr Bolton appraised me for a moment. "I get that you're not comfortable with me, but you can't just keep plodding on, banging your head against the wall. Tell me, Castella. Why did you even decide to take this course?"
I flushed. I fingered my crystal pendant while I wondered how to navigate the question. "My friends recommended it to me," I told him as a neutral, yet true response.
Mr Bolton gazed coolly at me. I felt so judged and patronized in that moment, that I'd rather he pounce on me and tear my clothes off.
But my instructor was not done with me yet. "That's not a reason. Friends can recommend you to do all sorts of things, but you must have something else you're looking for if you agreed to take my course."
I puckered up my lips. I couldn't believe we were debating about my motives. I gave a noncommittal shrug.
Mr Bolton didn't budge, though. "I'm not trying to be difficult. I'm trying to help you. What in particular did your friends recommend the course for, and why did you like it?"
That was a great question. I shrugged again and played with a strand of my black hair. "My reasons are mine."
Tense silence stretched between us. Then Mr Bolton let out a sigh. "Fine. But don't be afraid to tell me or ask for my help, all right? I wish for your success, too."