5

The bell rang and I picked up my stuff from the bench, throwing the leftover food in the trash can on the way inside. As we passed by the tables in the cafeteria, I noticed everyone in Jared’s table was already gone.

“What class do you have right now?” Zev asked, walking dangerously close to me.

I took out my schedule and checked. The next class in my schedule was History, which wasn’t exactly my favorite subject.

I was more than thankful for being a Legen when it came to classes I disliked. My skills when it came to school subjects surpassed that of a human. I didn’t generally slack off in my classes, but when I did, it never took a toll on me.

I snapped out of my thoughts when someone grabbed my shoulders and roughly moved me aside. Zev tugged me out of the way and saved me from face planting on a door.

“You were about to crash,” Zev said, still holding my shoulders.

I shrugged out of his hold and turned to face him.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I was distracted.”

“No worries, I noticed you spacing out.”

“I wasn’t spacing out, I was simply thinking about something,” I stated, crossing my arms.

I immediately felt bad with how bitchy my comment sounded. I was irritated with myself and how bad the day was turning out. Zev was trying to make it better and helping me out. He was the last person I should’ve been treating badly.

“You didn’t tell me what class you had.”

“Oh right, I have History with Mr. Peters,” I replied, looking at my schedule again to make sure I had the right teacher.

This time, I made my voice nicer, friendlier.

“You’re a sophomore?” He questioned.

“Umm… yeah…?”

“Well, that’s okay, I guess,” he said after a while.

I didn’t understand his response, but I didn’t question it either.

“What are you?” I asked after we continued walking.

Posters of timelines and former presidents covered the new hall we entered

“What do you mean what am I? Why are you asking that?” Zev asking, looking worked up about something.

Without asking my permission, he wrapped his hand around my arm and shoved me into a room.

“Why did you ask me that?” Zev repeated his question.

His expression was no longer playful. He was staring at me intently, and his body was closer than it had been before.

I could feel his breath blowing across my face as he stood only inches away from me.

I didn’t know why he was mad. I told him I was a sophomore, yet he was making it seem like a crime to ask his grade.

If there was a moment to panic, this should have been it. What kept me from shouting or trying to protect myself was my confusion with the entire situation.

“Answer me.”

“Let her go.” I was surprised to hear someone else in the room