For the last week, Viktor DeGallow had looked positively languid. When he meandered into class and collapsed behind his desk. Sometimes he gazed off into the distance or became intently focused on the ceiling or the cap of his pen. Other times he folded his arms across the top of his desk and laid his head down.
Today, he simply sat staring at his phone, and the picture of Mira Linden displayed on it.
“Mister DeGallow!” Carmichael raised his voice to snap the Spaniard from his stupor. “Are you listening?”
Viktor waved the man away.
Their teacher sighed mournfully. “Would you like to join me in detention?”
“Would you like to kiss my ass?”
The man gave Viktor a sympathetic look. “Doctor Fisher’s office, Viktor. Now.”
Viktor let out an agitated groan. <<“What does it take to get…?”>> He looked to Jack then. <<“Armor up.”>>
Viktor stood up, looked at Jack, and slugged him in the face.
“Mister DeGallow!” Carmichael screamed. “Fisher’s office! On the double!”
As Viktor made his way out, he passed by the empty seat next to Violet—the seat that used to be occupied by Eve.