I concentrated on the work for the remainder of the lesson. Don’t you just hate the passé compose? We were told to stop working – not that I’d done much of that – and pack away, then to leave. None of us could get out fast enough. Gwen took me by the arm and led me to the lockers. She watched me as I shoved my French stuff into the locker and got my things for history and double English.
“So what’s up?” asked Gwen as I was shutting my locker.
“Lara, can I talk to you for a minute?” asked Seth from behind.
I stopped and thought, Perfect timing, sarcastic of course. I turned and smiled at him nevertheless.
“Sure,” I said, glancing at Gwen. Seth seemed to understand and led me to a much quieter corner.
“I need your help,” he whispered.
“My help? With what?” I asked quietly.
“I want to find out what killed my dad, but I don’t know where to start. Could you help?”
“Of course. I’d be happy to. I mean, not happy that he’s dead, but you know what I mean...” He smiled. “Remember our earlier meeting? Where you had me up against the lockers...?” He just grinned mischievously in response. “Mr. Jones thinks you’re trying to ‘pressurise’ me into something.”
He moved closer to me. “And what would this something be?”
“I think you know what the ‘something’ is,” I said, sort of accidentally flirting with him.
“Of course I do, Lara,” he grinned.
“Right, I need to go; Gwen’s probably extremely pissed off with me now.”
“She looks it. Be careful,” he laughed quietly.
“You really are my favourite blood demon, Seth,” I said absent-mindedly. He raised an eyebrow playfully.
“You know others?” he asked, still smiling.
“Well, not really, which kind of makes you favourite by default,” I pointed out.
“In that case then, you’re my favourite Grimm.”
I grinned and walked back to Gwen.