Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Riva wanted to drop her head to the desk and hide her face in her arms, but she couldn’t afford to give the others the satisfaction. She folded the note into the tiniest square possible, shoved it deep into her jeans pocket, and did her absolute best to pretend she’d suddenly developed a keen interest in the pluperfect.

Now, of course, the clock hands slowed way down. She could almost have believed someone had frozen time. Hell would certainly be a place where she was trapped forever in this moment, getting stared at by people who knew about the most mortifying thing she’d ever done, trying to figure out how she could ever show her face in French class again, totally uncertain of what to say later when Benton texted her.