He laughed. “Yeah, but I’m an awesome dork.”
I shook my head at his antics and looked back at my computer. The previous week, we’d gotten together after our classes to study at the local deli, and we really hit it off as friends. He hadn’t brought up the whole incident with Mason again, but I could tell he watched my expressions as I looked down on Mason in class.
Brian was a good guy. The type of guy I’d probably be in to if my body wasn’t still yearning for Mason.
And just as his name flowed through my mind, he walked into the room. My breath hitched as he strode to his desk with briefcase in hand. He was dressed in a grey suit, his hair a tousled mess, and his face donned the five o’clock shadow he never seemed to shave off. Not that I was complaining, because it was sexy as hell.
He stood behind his desk and set his briefcase down before lifting his head and meeting my gaze.
I pressed my lips together as my stomach did a flip. Every time he looked at me, it was as if my world was tilted on its axis. I could feel my ears flush and averted my eyes back to my computer.
“Homicide,” I heard Mason say, as the clicking of chalk on the board ensued.
I looked up to see the word written on the board. He set the chalk down and shoved his hands in his trousers.
“Homicide,” he stated again as he walked around the room. “When most people hear that word, it’s automatically assumed that someone killed another human being intentionally. But that’s not always the case.” He walked back toward the board and picked up the chalk. “Murder, manslaughter, and justifiable homicide,” he stated as he wrote the words on the board. “These are the classifications. Every state in the US has different types of homicide classifications, but it usually falls into these three categories.
“Murder is typically broken down further into two categories: First degree and second degree. First degree is the most serious of all homicide charges. It’s reserved for situations where the person accused of the homicide planned the killing and intended for the victim to die. It was intentional. The killer wanted that person dead, and they did it.
“Second degree is for cases where it can’t be proven that the killer planned the kill, but where the killer still intended that the victim die.
“Manslaughter. These charges usually arise from accidental circumstances where a person died because of an event. The crime was not planned, nor was it intended for the victim to die.
“And last we have justifiable homicide. This is when an individual killed another in self-defense or similar circumstances. Technically, this isn’t a legal charge, but rather a classification for which authorities can register that the individual died, but no crime was committed.”
I wrote note after note as he continued with his lecture, all the while noticing he didn’t once look at me again as he spoke. Actually, his gaze never went to the center of the room at all, as if he was purposely avoiding me. Which he probably was, but why? He was the one who told me to leave that day and hadn’t talked to me since. He was the one who treated me the way he did when all I wanted to do was help. He should’ve had no problem looking at me. He’s the one who didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.
I was the one who should’ve been avoiding him at all costs. Instead, I was pining over why he wasn’t looking at me when I should’ve been focusing on the lesson.
“Are there any questions?” Mason asked as he leaned against the front of his desk, his arms crossed over his chest.
He looked around the room, avoiding my gaze, then nodded when nobody raised their hand.
“All right. On Wednesday, I’ll be bombarding you with questions to evaluate what you know. Make sure you review everything we’ve gone over. This is in no way to judge anyone. This is to help those who may not have known the answer. This is not a grade; however, participation is encouraged.”
He gave a small smile as he walked around his desk and took a seat. “Class is dismissed.”
A collective sound of conversations and students stuffing their bags ensued as I pulled my things together.
“Did you want to meet up again after classes today?” Brian asked as he stood up from his seat.
I looked over at him and shook my head. “I’m having dinner with my sister tonight, but let’s shoot for Wednesday, okay?”
“Okay, sounds good.”
We both walked down the steps in silence. I did my best not to look over at Mason, but it was easier said than done. Our eyes locked for a brief moment before I quickly looked away.
I need to get these feelings under control before I regret not taking Mel’s advice on switching teachers.
Brian and I were making our way to the door when Mason’s voice halted my steps.
“Ms. Blake, may I speak with you for a moment?”