We were all sitting at her table at lunch. Wyatt and Daisy were working on sketches and Clara and I were talking. She's getting obsessed with the whole darkling thing. Maybe I shouldn't have told her anything about it.

"So, darklings are the only ones that can control electricity?"

My eyes met Wyatt's who raised his brows at me, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. Then I looked at Daisy who was frozen and staring at her sketch wide-eyed before looking up at me.

I cleared my throat, "Why don't we talk about this later?"

Wyatt shot me a pointed look.

"Why? What's wrong with now? I want to know, please?" She grabbed my arm, shaking it.

"Clara, maybe I shouldn't have told you," I chuckled.

"Why not?" she pouted.

"Because if you know everything before Mr. Billy can teach us anything, then you'll ace the class. I can't let you get better scores than me, come on. I told you enough."

"But I want to know more," she mumbled.

I sighed, looking from her to Wyatt. He subtly shook his head at me. I lifted a brow at him and he shook his head even harder. I looked at Daisy. She shook her head too.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Clara asked, looking at the two of them.

"Let's get muffins." I grabbed her hand and pulled her up, taking her to the lunch line.

"But they don't have chocolate muffins today, those are my favorite," she said, peering over the shoulders of the people in front of us. "I don't want a muffin, let's go back." She turned to leave but I grabbed her hand and pulled her back, causing her to crash into me.

"Let's just see what they have."

"Why? Do you want a muffin?"

"No, but you want the chocolate one."

"They don't have the chocolate ones today."

"Yes, they do," I argued, pushing her further in the line.

While we were standing in line, I glanced over and saw Daisy and Wyatt talking very intensely. So I tried to work on my hearing abilities and eavesdropped. "Do you think she likes him?" she whispered.

"He likes her too," Wyatt shrugged nonchalantly while sketching.

"No, I mean do you think she likes him?"

Wyatt turned to her in confusion. "What's the difference?"

"There's a huge difference! There's liking someone and then there's liking someone. Y'know?"

"No, I don't know," he replied.

She huffed, slumping in her seat. She glanced over and I looked away just in time.

Yeah, I like her. But what is the difference between like and like? I don't quite get it.

"Here." I looked down where she held up two chocolate muffins. "They weren't written on the menu, how did you know they were made today?" she asked while I took one muffin and left the other one for her.

"They always make chocolate muffins," I replied while we slowly walked back to our seats.

"Well, these were the last ones, actually," she chuckled, peeling the paper.

Atticus and his friends were coming from her right and Finn crashed right into her, sending her muffin tumbling to the floor. She frowned, staring at it.

She glanced at Finn, rolled her eyes, picked up the muffin, and looked at it sadly. "Are you kidding me?" she mumbled, going to throw it in the trash.

"Clara?"

She stopped when I called her name. "Yeah?"

"What do people generally do with muffins?"

"Eat them," she shrugged.

"Or?"

"Or what?"

I lifted a brow at her.

Her mouth formed an 'O' before she nodded. And then laughed. "You're funny," she grabbed my hand before throwing her muffin in the trash. "But no. I'm not looking for trouble."

"I am," I shrugged, ready to smash my muffin into Finn's stupid little face.

"No!" She snatched my muffin and took a bite out of it. "Don't waste it, if you do that, it's as good as throwing it in the trash."

Finn glared at her but blinked away when I lifted a brow at him.

We walked to our table where I grabbed my bag and hers.

"What's going on?" she questioned while eating the muffin.

"We're leaving."

"But—"

"Come on." I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the cafeteria.

"Where are we going?"

"Away from the cafeteria where everyone is probably talking about us, and somewhere else. Because you and me both are done with all our classes for today."

"How do you know I don't have any more classes?"

"We have all our classes together."

"Oh, yeah. Are we going to study French now?"

"If you want to."

She pulled me to a halt near the trash can where she threw the rest of the muffin paper away. "I really don't like Mr. Robert. He's so mean, he always picks on me."

"He wouldn't if you learned a little more, you know."

"It's not my fault I had to move after the year already begun," she frowned. "And how will I learn if he keeps asking me questions and stressing me out."

"He only asks you questions to see how much you've learned."

"Are you siding with Mr. Robert over me?" she scoffed, both of us freezing by the staircase when Mr. Robert came down with a folder in his hands.

"Hello," he nodded at us, looking at Clara in amusement.

"Hi," she stuttered. "Did you by any chance hear what I was just saying, Mr. Robert?"

"I'm afraid I did," he nodded.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry, please forget about it, please," she groaned.

"I'm not your teacher outside our classroom, don't worry. Enjoy your day," he smiled and then kept walking.

She let out a string of curses under her breath while glaring at the back of his head. I leaned against the wall, watching her. It's really entertaining, you know. She started fake crying, dragging her hands down her face. "Why me? Why does shit like this always happen to me?" She turned to me, throwing her arms around me and hiding her face in my neck.

I froze, my body went stiff, my breathing stopped, and my heart most certainly failed. Almost.

"Don't you hug your friends?" she asked without retreating.

"I don't hug Wyatt, no," I cleared my throat.

She clicked her tongue and then pulled back, grabbed my wrists, and put my arms around her waist. "This is how we hug, okay?" she grinned, hugging me again.

The people walking up and down the stairs looked at us weirdly and started whispering. She didn't seem bothered at all and surprisingly, neither was I.

"Do you plan to keep hugging for the rest of the day?" I asked, trying not to mention how her hair smelled like flowers. It was nice. Like really nice.

She laughed, pulling away. "No. Come on, let's go study French." She started jogging upstairs and I chuckled to myself.

I pushed myself off the wall as Atticus came into sight. He arched a brow at me. "Looks like there's a new friendship developing here," he said, walking over.

"Looks like she chose you over me," I said smugly.

"Callum!" her voice reached me. I looked up, seeing her head poking down the stairs. "You coming?"

"Be right there!" I smirked at Atticus and then left, running to catch up with her.

"Were you talking to Atticus?" she asked, taking her keys off her belt loop.

"He was talking to me," I corrected.

"About what?"

"You," I answered bluntly.

"What about me?" she asked, unlocking her door and stepping inside.

I followed her, closing it behind me. "Nothing."

She looked at me suspiciously as we sat on the floor and took out our French notebooks and textbooks.

"It's irrelevant, don't worry. Right, chapter one. Introductions," I grinned, sliding my notebook over to her. "You can copy all my notes first, then we can have a conversation in French using those notes and the textbook."

"And what will you do while I copy these?" she asked, opening my notebook to the first page, letting out a chuckle.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, smiling at the page.

"What is it?" I huffed.

"You doodle."

I sat beside her, looking at the notebook and the doodle of a pig that I made. "Yeah, so? What about it?"

"Nothing, it's cute," she shrugged, grabbing a pen and started to copy all my notes.

I watched her while she studied before taking another book from her shelf.

"Did you finish the one I gave you?"

"Yeah, Serpent & Dove."

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah, it was okay," I lied, not wanting to admit that I loved it and that romance novels just might be better than some of the others I've read.

"You loved it," she sang, glancing at me, chuckling. "Try that one," she pointed. "Delirium. It's part of a trilogy but you can read it by itself."

"What's it about?"

"A girl who lives in a society where love is actually a disease."

I raised my brows, observing the cover.

"You'll like it," she smiled and then looked back at her notebook, concentrating on her notes.

She's cute. And I do like her. Maybe I could clarify what kind of like if I actually knew the difference.

Do I like her? Or do I like her?

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