Untameable (Haven Falls 3)

“You don’t think we’re both too stubborn?”

“Yep,” he grins. “And you do drive me insane.”

“Yet somehow we’re making it work.”

His mouth snaps shut and I grin to myself. Point proven. I think that’ll give him a little something to think about.

We keep making our way back to the cafeteria when we pass the science classrooms. I pull back on Noah’s hand, seeing Mr. Carver eating his lunch at his desk rather than the staff room like most of the teachers do. I come to a stop in his doorway and knock gently to get his attention. “Sorry to disturb you,” I say.

“No, no,” he says, quickly wiping his mouth and welcoming us into his classroom. “What’s going on? How can I help you?”

“I just wanted to stop by and let you know that I’ve decided to go for the scholarship.”

His eyes widen in surprise as though he had expected me to reject it. “Really? That’s great news. Can I ask what changed your mind?”

“Well, apart from all my excuses, which all still stand by the way, a few people made me realize that I’d be a fool if I didn’t even try. I mean it’s better to have tried than to give up.”

“Indeed, it is,” Carver says as his eyes cut across to Noah, making it clear he knows who I mean by a ‘few people’. “Well, it’s good to see that a ‘few people’ around you seem to have their heads screwed on correctly and can lead you in the right direction.”

“Gee, thanks,” I grumble, loving that out of all the teachers at Haven Falls Private, it’s nice to see that at least one of them actually gives a shit.

“No, problem,” he tells me. “I’ll arrange a meeting with your other teachers and we’ll put together a plan to see if we can get your grades up in your other classes. You realize it’s not going to be easy, right? You’re going to have to work your butt off to prove to the administration board at Broken Hill University that you belong there.”

“Yep, I know.”

“You really mean it? Don’t waste my time if you don’t plan on putting in the effort. I’d really like to see you succeed, Henley.”

“I mean it,” I tell him with a definite nod.

“Excellent,” he says. “Then get that application form filled out and I’ll write you a recommendation.”

I give him a grateful smile before a cringe takes over. “About the application form,” I say, resisting scowling back at Noah. “Could I get another one?”

“Why?” he asks, narrowing his eyes on me. “You didn’t burn the old one the second you walked out of my class, did you?”

“I’m not going to lie,” I tell him. “The thought did cross my mind, but someone got a little too confident and started filling it out for me. Completely did it all wrong.”

“Ok,” he laughs, walking back over to his desk and rifling through his bottom drawer. “That I can deal with.” A moment later, he pulls out a brand new application form and hands it over. “Maybe fill it out yourself, this time.”

“I will,” I smile. “I’ll let you get back to your lunch.”

“Thanks,” he says as we turn and start heading for the door. “Oh, and Henley,” he calls behind us, “come prepared to class this afternoon. We’ve got a pretty exciting experiment.”

Yes. I resist fist pumping the sky. My day just got that much better.

We walk out and I close the door behind me, feeling all kinds of happy until the doormat next to me insists on opening his mouth. “Is that guy deranged?” he grunts. “What kind of idiot calls an experiment exciting?”

Ugh. Stupid boys. They just don’t get it.

Chapter 13

“So, what the hell do we do now if we can’t go to the races on a Friday night?” I ask Noah as we sit out front of his home, watching the cars go by.

Noah shrugs his shoulders and scrunches up his face. “I don’t fucking know,” he grumbles before glancing away, trying to hide the fact that the races being shut down really bothers him. The races were something he looked forward to, a place to go where he could let loose and kick people’s asses with nothing but practiced ease.

And now it’s all gone and there’s nowhere for him to release that need within to feel the tires spinning beneath him, to feel the engine rumble and being pushed to its max, to feel the adrenaline of the race and the crowd chanting his name. All freaking gone.

“We could always go and find some sorry loser to drag race,” I suggest, though I hope he knows I’m joking to try to cheer him up. There’s no way I’d let him drag race. But then, I guess if it’s something he actually wanted to do, we’d already be out there searching for an opponent despite everyone’s better judgment.