After speaking with Quinton's roommate, Langley and I discover that we got away with it. Quinton returned to his dorm, found his things missing and, as expected, went to ask security if they had seen anyone come in. They said no. Quinton pushed it no further, telling his roommate that his missing notebook wasn't worth an investigation. It appeared he didn't have back-ups because he hasn't seen Quinton studying the last week.
He said nothing of Langley or I, so he must have assumed it was some kids with bad grades who needed his notes in order to pass. The next day, a few of the guys Langley and I spoke with broke into Quinton's locker and water damaged his textbooks to the point that they were unreadable. He got new ones, but none are high lighted or marked, so he has to start over from scratch.
Quinton sent me a glare during class that day. I assumed that he would think it was my doing, but he had no proof so he said nothing. Even if he proved who had damaged his books, it wouldn't have been me. Technically, I wasn't the one who did it… I simply suggested it and the guys did it for me. Seeing him glare at me like that sure brought a smile to my face, though.
I wake up the morning of the test feeling more excited than ever. This is the first time I've ever wanted to go to class knowing there would be a test. I want to see if our plan worked. I want to see how worked up Quinton is going to be, looking at the test and realizing he doesn't know any of it. Okay, so he probably would remember some of it, but the panic of not studying accompanied by having not studied in a week will surely affect his grade some way!
I find myself in class almost ten minutes early the day of the test, which is a miracle. I should get an award, but I don’t exactly have the best reasons for being there, so I suppose an award would be a bad idea. There are four other people in the room, Quinton being one of them. I knew he arrived early to take that seat in order to piss me off. Well, today he will be the one pissed off.
Grinning from ear to ear, I make my way over to him, ready to tease him about the upcoming test when...
"You're staring, Princess."
My eyes somehow manage to tear themselves away from the notes on his desk. Hell, he even has a stack of note cards full of information. They don’t appear scribbled or half-assed, either. They are proper notes that he took time to make. How did he...? We took everything! I even got his flash drive! We got his laptop. His roommate told us he hadn't seen anything, so… when could he have...
"Just wanted to ask if you were ready for the test. It's worth 20% of our grade, you know," I say, managing to force a grin in hopes of seeming less suspicious. Or maybe that makes it worse? My insides are churning. I can't believe he got notes! Who did he get those off of? I made sure to tell everyone not to give him a damn thing, not that he bothered to ask anyone.
"Shouldn't you be asking yourself that?" Quinton hisses, his eyes never leaving his note cards. His lips move as he silently mouths the questions and answers to each one. His dark eyes are so focused on the cards he doesn't notice me leaning in closer to see if the notes are really his, or at least I thought he didn't notice. "You're too close, back up."
I snort. "Why should I listen to you?"
"You ask such a question, yet you order others and wonder why they do not listen. Are you stupid?" His voice oozes superiority. My fist shakes with the desire to deck him, not that it’s a new feeling. I am surprised I don’t immediately punch him out of pure instinct alone.
"Is there a reason that you're such an asshole, or do you just like making others uncomfortable?" I hiss. He still hasn't looked at me. Damn it, look at me! It's like he doesn't even care that he's speaking to me, like I'm nothing to him. My biggest pet peeve is people not looking at me when they speak. It's common courtesy, and I will admit I have my asshole moments, but even I look at someone when they're speaking!
The boy actually smirks as he replies. "I do get this fuzzy feeling in my stomach when I see you uncomfortable around me, kind of like I won a prize."
"You dick."
"Tsk, watch your language, Your Highness. Daddy would not approve."
Holy shit is it hard not to hit him right now. Do not hit. Do not hit. Do not hit.
I take a deep breath. I did not come over here to fight with him. I came over to ask about the notes. I must know why my plan did not work so in the future I can fix it. That's right, Aron, you can do this. Take a deep breath...
"Where did you get those notes? Everyone's heard about those kids breaking into your dorm and taking them. You have back-ups or something?" Maybe I'm asking too many questions. This could make me look suspicious, but I don't care. I want to know where we went wrong. I know we got everything!
Quinton scowls. His dark eyes finally remove themselves from his cards to fall onto me. I can feel the heat from his glare and suddenly I feel like he knew all along that I had taken his notes. I don't know how to explain this feeling, like somehow he can see right through me. It's as if he's waiting for me to fess up… or maybe I'm crazy. How could he know?
"Why would I tell you that?" he says through clenched teeth. A lump forms in my throat. My hands are shaking. I grasp onto the siding of my pants in hopes to stop them. His voice is like a blade. "I hear you have a tendency of taking things that belong to others."
"Aron!" Langley's voice pulls me away from Quinton, who is now back to eyeing his note cards one after the other. It takes a moment for me to get my breath back. Huffing, I decide not to bother with him anymore. I don't want to mess up and end up admitting that Langley and I are the culprits.
“What... why does he have those?" Langley whispers once I am at his side. He's eyeing the notes suspiciously, probably also wondering if he had gotten them off someone. Those notes looked too elaborate to belong to anyone else, though. He had to have back ups somewhere, but where? His locker? The guys didn't find anything other than his textbooks...
"I don't know but… I think he knows we did it," I mumble. Although Quinton's eyes aren't on me, I feel like he's still staring at me. My skin is itching. It's weird. I suddenly have the desire to rub all over, to get his gaze off me physically, and it's almost maddening. Part of me wonders if that's what being guilty feels like.
"No way, how could he? No one would have told him."
"Whatever, even if he did know he would have done something about it already, right?" I ask.
Langley nods. So what if he knows? Good, he should know! Maybe now he'll stop messing with me… why would he stop messing with me, though? Our plan didn't work. He had more notes stashed away somewhere. All I did was break into his room and take things he already had more copies of. Damn it, how else am I going to ruin his grades? If he has a shit ton of notes stashed away everywhere, this is going to be impossible.
I slam my fists against the desk, catching almost everyone's attention. I don't care though. I'm pissed.
"Aron, why don't we just give up? He isn't worth it."
"No way in hell!" I holler. People are beginning to whisper until I shoot them all a glare that clearly states I will throw them all into a dungeon if they don't stop. Wait, first I would need a dungeon. Whatever, I'll get one, then! Growling, I turn back to Langley. "He needs to know his place. He acts so cocky when he doesn't deserve to… I'm going to prove to him that I am capable of taking care of my own problems."
Langley stares at me oddly, like he thinks I'm crazy. Maybe I am, but… but I can do things on my own! I don't have to go to my dad for everything. I am the prince. I can fix my own problems. I can defeat my own enemies. I will think of this as my first battle and I will win.
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