Heaven And Hell novel Chapter 9

"I know that some of you don't like each other..." He eyed Michael and me.

Everyone began to look over their shoulders at us or just looking at their side, clearing their throats loudly, smiling. I ground my teeth together. It was amazing my teeth didn't turn to powder.

Michael raised his brows, a hand on his chest. "What, me and Keller?" he said, feigning shock. "Never! We get along very well, don't we?" he asked, turning to look at me with amusement glazed in his silver eyes. I glared.

"I assure you, Mr. Logan, that Keller and I will be the best parents to our baby flour."

Mr. Logan and the others burst out laughing. I was the only one who wasn't amused by this crap.

"Oh, I'm sure," our teacher said, wiping a tear in his eye. "But, as I said, it's not going to be that simple. I know that some of you are just going to care for the flour by keeping it inside your room or closet, letting it out after two weeks. That's not how you care for it. What if that was a real baby and you just locked it inside your closet? Yikes!"

The students agreed, then he spoke again. "That's why I called your parents and told them to watch you guys with your 'baby.' At least you get an eye watching out for you while you watch out for the flour."

I really didn't care about that, but Michael did. I heard him groan inwardly, shaking his head, muttering, "Great."

I shrugged, not caring at all. "Hey," I told him in a no-nonsense voice, "this is my grade too. So you have to cooperate with me. I get Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. You get the rest of the other days."

He shrugged. "Fine."

That was it? Fine? Huh. At least he wasn't complaining about having Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday straight. This was better than I thought.

"I'm going to call her Patcher," I said, patting the sack in front of us. Everyone was naming his or her flour, why not us right?

Michael rolled his eyes. "Fine. Roger. Whatever."

I narrowed my eyes to slits. "I said Patcher, not Roger!"

He didn't look up from his iPhone, tapping all the way. "What?"

"I said -- no, I change my mind. I want Sloan for a girl's name. What do you think?" I asked, testing him.

Michael looked up from his task. "Hmm? Oh yeah, Moan's good, I suppose. If you like moaning and all, which is really perverted of you, but whatever."

I took his phone away. He scowled. "You're not even paying attention!"

"I said Moan, didn't I?"

"You think I'm perverted! I didn't even name it Moan, you idiot. I said Sloan."

"Bone, it is, then." He tried to grab his phone, but I raised it up higher.

"Sloan, not Bone."

"SLOAN," he said loudly, rolling his cool (by cool, I meant cold-looking, not awesome, ew) silver eyes. I smirked, giving him back the phone.

"Good luck with that, honey! Your dear husband -- that's me! -- will only be gone for a second." He tapped our flour's side. "Good-bye, my dear Moan!"

"Sloan!" I exclaimed.

"I love you, honey!" Michael sang, air-kissing Moan -- I mean, Sloan, goddamit -- as he strolled across the room.

Frederick patted Viv's arm and followed Michael.

I choked on my own spittle at Michael's last words.

When everyone got out of history, I couldn't help but notice Michael and Frederick talking in hushed tones to one another in the back row of the classroom.

It totally piqued my curiosity but I tried to hold myself together because I knew it wasn't my business to interfere at all in their lives.

But really, when they'd gotten back from Mrs. Smith's office, Michael had looked somehow arrogantly smug while his cousin's lips had been twisted into a combination of a scowl and frown. I really didn't know what Michael's father had said to them in the headmistress's office, but I knew that Michael'd seemed satisfied and Frederick had looked like he was in pain.

Then I had seen Michael slap Frederick on the back heartily, saying, "You'll be petted again, cous!"

Frederick'd only grumbled.

Hmm. What did Michael mean by "petted?" I mean, it wasn't my business and all, but you know. Just my curiosity. Plus, I hadn't seen Michael's father yet. Not even once. Considering his son was rich and spoiled, I guessed he was an entrepreneur or something -- maybe a stockbroker? A CEO of a vastly booming business?