Ok here is the next part.
It's no use. I couldn’t take my mind of it. This is the guy that had sworn he'd 'hunt' me down and kill me. Slowly, I look over at him and see his full attention towards the book. Nevertheless, maybe, he was secretly wondering how he'd do away with me.
I shivered again and looked at Mrs. Caldwell, who looked up at the exact moment and said.
"Nicole, is there a problem?"
"No Miss," I answer and quickly pick up my book, ignoring everyone else looking at me. I know it's 'Mrs.' Caldwell, not 'Miss', but everyone's gotten in a habit of calling all the lady teachers 'Miss.'
Mrs. Caldwell raised her eyebrows but didn’t question me anymore. Did she secretly know she just put the person who swore they'd kill me right next to me? All he'd have to do is look at me and I thought I'd die.
I tried to look over at him a couple of times, expecting to see his attention wander like a bored punk boy, but instead, he was really engrossed in his book.
That’s good, at least he isn’t staring at me.
I let out a sigh at the sound of the bell, and quickly get my stuff. As I go to walk out the door, Mrs. Caldwell called me back in. Turning slowly, I fake a smile. What does she want? I think exasperated.
"Nicole, could you come back a minute?" she asks. "Now, you've now meet Conner probably not to face. Anyway, this is Conner Hallet. He's dyslexic and since this is history and all, he needs help reading and writing. Although I hope, it doesn’t affect your study. So, what do you say?"
I couldn't help but look at Connor. He stares at me, long and hard. His bright blue eyes, moving every so slightly over my face.
"Nicole, you've gone pale," Mrs. Caldwell said, "and I've got another class to teach. Why don’t you think about it and get back to me after school?"
"Y-Yeah, sure," I mumble and quickly walk out. I don’t look back, but just hurry to my next class, praying that he won’t be there as well.
"She suggested you tutor him?" Meredith yelled at lunch after I'd informed her about history.
"She doesn’t know it's him," I argued. "Look, it's not like I'm going to do it."
"She's absurd," Meredith shook her head, "I wondered why you went so pale after history. Although, in history you looked fine."
"I know, I hid it," I shuddered. "I just don’t want to be near him."
"So tell the teacher," Meredith sighed, "you have too. This isn’t helping you recover from this."
"I'm fine!" I protest, "It was just a shock."
"He tried to kill you," Meredith cried, "Girl; you need to talk to someone-"
"Don’t start!" I interrupt, "please, I just want to get on with things." “You would too, if you had gone through what I did with him.â€Â
"Alright, I’m sorry. But if I think your not coping..." Meredith stops and stares behind me. I turn slowly and let out a scream when I see Conner. Meredith quickly jumped up and in stood in front of me.
"What do you want?" she asked. "You don’t have any right to-"
"I just wanted to talk," he shrugged causally; "You can stay like that if you want, but I'd like to say something."
There's a minute of silence, and since I don’t answer, he talks anyway.
"Look, I really need some help in history-"
“You have no right to-“
"I know help is the last thing I should ask from you, but I'm asking all the same. You know my darkest secret."
"Darkest secret?" Meredith spits. "You stupid little! You-"
In a matter of seconds, Conner has his hand around her neck and pushes her against the tree. Meredith eyes widened with fear and after a second, he let her drop.
"You just tried to hurt my friend," I say slowly, and take a step back in fear. Conner looked at me and shrugged.
"She ticked me off."
"I never did anything to you," I say slowly, "but still, you-"
"Shut up," Conner yelled, "forget about history all right?"
I watch as Conner walked away. His hands in his pockets, I sat back next to Meredith.
"If he ever so much as touches you, I will kill him." I wouldn’t have believed it from Meredith, but her voice was so cold. I believed every word.
Dumping my bag on the floor, I walked straight into the kitchen and began to make myself a sandwich. A minute later, my mother came in.
"Uh, Nicole," when I turned, I saw her biting her lip, "could you come into the living room? You have a visitor."
"Who?"
"Conner Hallet."
My whole body went numb, the knife I had in my hand, fell to the floor. My mother sighed.
"I can get him to go away if you like," my mother said, "the police escorted him here, in case he tries anything."
I nodded my head. "I'll see him."
"Do you want me to stay in there with you?" my mother suggests, her face softening.
"No," I said, surprised by my answer. "I don’t think you should."
I walked past my mom and into the living room, wondering if I was ready for this. Most likely not, but I was about to do it. I closed the door behind me and Conner stood up.
He was wearing baggy pants and a ripped sleeveless top. His bright b
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