The Stoic Nurse's Obsession: My Secret Queen

weat through their starch-stiffened shirts, but Dallas Ruiz just felt cold. She pulled the cuffs of her faded gray hoodie down over her knuckles, th

r aisle. She could feel the eyes on her. They felt

as

rship

hool char

huffling of feet. Dallas found a desk at the very back, in the corner where the shadows from the high vaulted ceiling pooled the darkest. She

field mouse. Her eyes, sharp and bead-like behind rimless glasses, snapped to Dallas immediately. Her lip curl

effortlessly across the hall. Try not to disturb th

dn't react. She didn't stiffen. She didn't look up. She simply pulled the wooden chair out. The metal legs scr

spine down until her neck rested on the back of

blanc pen between his fingers with a dexterity that spoke of years of piano lessons or perhaps just nervous energy. He turned his head, just slightly, catching

at would determine the academic trajectory of every freshman

pped the b

ar logic puzzles and pattern recognition matrices designed to test cognitive processing

s ado

the world at bay. The answers presented themselves to her instantly, floating over the paper like augmented re

stic ballpoint pen. She spu

she y

She folded her arms on the desk, creating a pillow. She pulled her hood up

closed h

e frantic energy of three hundred students trying to prove their worth vibrating in the floorboards. D

s the only place in this school where she wasn't Dallas th

of heels on wood

Click

was angry

sk. The smell of expensive, cloying perfume-l

didn'

with false concern, loud enough for the entire back section

t her cheek. She slowly sat up, her spine popping. She blinked,

er paper. It was pri

. Her voice was rough

sk. She flipped through the pages, the pape

iece of evidence in a murder trial. You have handed in a b

ed. The room went dead silen

r shoulder. She adjusted her sunglasses, sliding them onto he

to waste the in

d out into

will finish this exam or you will be placed in the remedial track

ment computer lab. The only place in the school with hardline ethernet ports that b

fit right in,

alked

ormed down the aisle, intending to report this immediately. As she passed the third row, her grip loo

as a hyper-realistic, anatomically perfect sketch of a skeletal hand raisi

ast. He looked at the retreating figure of the gir

and into the blinding sunlight. Her phon

r cal

Her thumb hovered over the re

er on the steps. One of them, a linebacker with a neck

trash, h

g her weight so that he was the one who bounced off sli

down the st