Free Malik (Carter Brother Series Book 1) by Lisa Helen Gray Page A

that my eyes wander over to Malik to find him still talking to the bimbo across from him. I grit my teeth together for reasons I can’t fathom.
    Shit, I’m jealous!
    I hardly know him and yet here I am acting like I’ve got some sort of claim to him.
    When I don’t answer Denny, she gives me a curious look before looking over my shoulder to where I was looking. She must click on about who I was looking at because her eyes go wide with surprise, looking between me and Malik.
    Leaning towards me she whispers near my ear so no one else can eavesdrop, “I wouldn’t bother Harlow. Trying to please someone like him is like trying to please a gay bloke in the bedroom, it’s never going to happen. You’d have more chance of catching the eye of a gay man to be honest. Malik doesn’t date anyone. I’ve heard about him hooking up with girls, but none from this school, despite what I said yesterday about him I’ve never actually seen him with a girl from this school.’’
    Too shocked to answer, I’m relieved when the bell rings for the first lesson. Not wanting her to see my flaming red face, I grab my stuff before waving bye over my shoulder, just wanting to get the hell out of there fast.
     
    I’m the first one to arrive to the art room. The teacher greeted me happily; glad to have me in her class. According to what she was saying my old school sent some of my work over for them to look at which I am grateful for. Grayson High are strict on who they let take their art program for a G.C.S.E., as many pupils think it’s an easy ride when it’s not.
    Since no one else has arrived, I choose a seat at the back nearest the windows. I love being able to look outside when I’m working or to find some sort of inspiration. This is the perfect spot for me as I get to see outside and what all the other students are doing. Watching people when they don’t know they’re being watched fascinates me and not in a creepy stalker kind of way, but in a way where you get to see the person for who they really are. Every day people put on a facade, only showing you what they want you to see. It’s like my mom always said, a smile can mean a thousand words, but it also hides a thousand problems.
    When only a few students arrive my face must show confusion because the teacher walks over to me explaining.
    “We only let a selected amount take this class. Most students thought of it as an easy class to pass, a few stick figures and they’re done. So a few years ago we did an exam for when they first start high school, picking out the talented and who takes it seriously. Most people we pick don’t even pick the class, but it saves time wasters coming in and disrupting the kids who actually want to learn and take it seriously.’’
    Once she explains she walks over to the whiteboard gaining everyone’s attention. While the teacher writes on the board I take in the other students in the class, not recognising any from the day before. There are only a few work benches available and I’m the only one with a table to myself, at least, that’s what I think until the door flies open and Malik walks in looking out of breath and kind of annoyed.
    “Sorry Miss, my brother needed to lend a pen off me,’’ he tells her. I’m most certain he’s lying from his body language. Don’t ask me why, I hardly know him, but something tells me that neither of his brothers would need a pen that bad; they could have just asked someone or used it as an excuse not to write any work down. The excuse part meant for Max.
    “Take a seat please Malik,’’ she smiles.
    My body freezes when I realise he has to come sit down next to me for the next two periods. Oh God, I have to do this twice a week with him sitting so close to me. I have double art on a Friday afternoon too.
    This is going to be torture.
    “Hey,’’ he says when he sits down next to me, his tone sounding off.
    My face is already flushed when he takes his seat next to me. I’m too scared to