I'm in shock.

Absolute shock.

I was in shock yesterday when Jason carried my stuff to class, but today's shock takes the proverbial cake. Even if you shake me or slap me at the back of the head, I don't think I can fully register what or who is in front of me.

God has some serious explaining to do because this week is turning into a bundle of surprises.

''We have a new student,'' Mr Franklin says monotonously, gesturing towards the person standing next to him. Student? ''Everyone, this is Theodore Clayton, a new senior at our school. He just moved to Bridgewood and he's a transfer from Beepskate High over at South Carolina.'' Theodore Clayton?

My shock turns to full on amusement and I barely contain my laughter at the mention of the name Theodore Clayton. Is this supposed to be a sick joke because if it is, it's not funny. Paris turns to give me a questioning look but I shrug absent-mindedly, my focus being on this new 'student'.

''Something funny, Miss Jones,'' Mr Franklin asks, his tone disapproving. All heads turn to me and I become slightly embarrassed at being called out. I shake my head and give a small wave. ''Nothing, sir. I'm sorry.'' He gives me a weird look while Theodore Clayton gives me a smirk, the type I had never seen him dawn before.

''Do you know the guy?'' Paris whispers to me. I take one long look at him again, not paying attention to what Mr Franklin is saying.

''Yes and No.''

''…Theodore why don't you take a seat next to Miss Jones at the back and then we'd begin.'' He saunters over to the spare desk at my right, whispers following his every step. Considering the fact that we're eight months away from graduation and given the exclusivity of the school, I didn't think that Adelaide allowed people to 'transfer', if I can even call him a transfer.

Theodore looks like a student, and that's the part that is so baffling; white shirt with the Adelaide logo on it tucked in grey slacks, white socks, black shoes, a satchel bag. Hell, he even had on the school's wine blazer!

He settles down on the chair, places his writing materials on the desk and tucks his bag under the table. I watch him with great intrigue and stretch my brow further than I've probably stretched it before in my life. He places a hand to his lips and points forward to Mr Franklin who is talking about World War II.

''Pay attention,'' he whispers.

......…..

''Theodore Clayton?'' I question sarcastically. Much like other days, school is finally over but I had to stay back because I have a Music Club meeting. Paris offered to stay back with me so that I'll have a ride home, but I told her I'll order an Uber. She has done enough for me already and I don't want to push it or be a burden.

I've gotten used to walking in crutches already and learned to ignore the ignorant whispers and stares. I make my way to the room dedicated for our Music Club meetings, and lo and behold, I find Theodore Clayton sitting on a chair and waiting for the others to arrive. No one shows up early for this meeting, not even Mr Owen, who is supposed to lead by example considering he's the head of this club. He always shows up thirty minutes late and uses some lame excuse as a cover up.

''What exactly is going on here? Why are you a student at my school when you and I both know that you haven't been a student in like six years!''

''Seven years,'' he corrects.

''Does the timeline even matter, Officer James,'' I sass. He puts a finger to his lips again, his eyes telling me to shut up. ''Why are you posing as a high school student?!''

I haven't heard a word from the police department about my case which I know is far from being over, and all of a sudden Officer James shows up at my school, posing as a student and coincidentally happens to be in ALL my classes and my extracurricular.

His good looks be damned, I want answers!

Students have started trooping in, some giving questioning glances at Officer James-Theodore Clayton.

''All will be explained soon, Miss Jones.''

''It's just Melody.''

He nods. ''Right. All will be explained soon, Melody. For now, let's focus on the music.''

I have so many questions I want to ask him, most of them Bob related but the words die on my lips as soon as I see Mr Owen burst through the double doors with a few papers in his hands.

''Sorry I'm late guys,'' You're always late, only this time you showed up ten minutes earlier than usual. ''Staff meeting.'' A few of us snicker and he clears his throat, trying to mask his embarrassment. ''We have a new student amongst us.'' He gestures for Theodore to join him in front. ''Some of you may have met him in your classes, but if you haven't, this is Theodore Clayton, a new senior at our school and he will be singing baritone. As you know, I've been holding tryouts to fill the spot and Theodore happened to arrive at the right time.''

Aren't we lucky?

''Once I heard him sing, I knew he'd be the right fit and you all would agree with my decision soon enough,'' he gushes. Who put the happy pill in his water? ''He'd be singing at the annual Adelaide charity event coming up in a few months.'' Theodore, or should I say Officer James, looks embarrassed by the compliments, but maybe this is all just part of the act. '' You may take your seat now, Mr Clayton.''

Mr Owen continues. ''Speaking of the charity event, practice starts every Saturday from 12:00pm till 4:00pm and it will be held at the school's gym.'' A few people groan in annoyance and disapproval. Saturday is meant to be a day of rest and relaxation from the madness of Adelaide. At least that's how I see it, but most of them are just groaning because they won't be able to attend one party or the other.

''I know Saturdays are not part of your normal school schedule but you have to make an exception, he says apologetically. ''I talked to Principal Grande and we decided that Saturday is ideal since we don't want the rehearsals to clash with your academic activities.'' A few people are still dissatisfied but he ignores them. If he talked to Grande, then the decision has been made so there's no use crying over spilled milk.

''We have a scheduled performance and as such, your voices must be in tip top shape. By the time we're done, you all would be able to belt like Mariah Carey.'' That incites a laugh from all of us and he claps enthusiastically. ''Let's begin.''

As Mr Owen leads us through warm ups, I couldn't help but notice the deep, melodic sound next to me. Mr Owen was definitely not kidding when he said Officer James was good. I have never heard a voice so heavenly. It sounds like a warm blanket and I want to wrap myself in it and bask in its cocoon.

If I could taste his voice, I'm pretty sure it tastes like melted chocolates and strawberries. That's how good it is.

I whisper a wow to myself in awe. How can someone be so good looking, be an upstanding citizen, judging by the fact that he's a police officer, and have such a beautiful voice?

Life is so unfair.

......…

''So, are you headed home?'' Officer James asks as we make our way to the student's parking lot. It's empty, with the exception of a few fancy cars owned by some students who also had extracurricular activities.

''Are you going to tell me why you're at my school?''

He narrows his eyes. ''Soon, Melody.''

''I can't believe they think you're a high school student!'' He does not look like a highschooler! Is Principal Grande blind? This is a full blown man who somehow managed to enter the police force straight out of high school, maybe, and now he's the youngest officer I've ever seen.

''Looks can be deceiving.'' he answers smugly. At this point, I'm tired of the roundabout answers.

He looks at my crutches and frowns deeply. ''My assumption is you didn't bring your car.''

Ding ding, we have a winner.

''My friend gave me a ride to school.''

''The redhead?''

I nod. ''Her name is Paris.''

He gets a set of keys from his pocket and walks to a Kia Sorento parked next to a Bugatti. ''You're coming with me.''

''And I should because?'' Just because he's a police officer, doesn't mean I trust him. I've already caught him in one obvious lie already.

Obvious to me but not to everyone else apparently.

He opens the passanger side of the car and motions for me to get in with a smile. A smile I really want to smack off with my hands. ''You want answers, don't you? Well get in and you'd find what you seek.''

Answers it is.