Sharpe’s lips narrowed as he sneered. One hand was clenched around a cup filled nearly to the brim with water and the other hand was loosely fingering a long stick. He whipped the stick up against the chalkboard, scattering chalk dust throughout the classroom. Several students gasped. No one said anything; it was silent with the exception of the clock ticking in the back of the room.

Out of everyone in the room, both Emiko Takahashi and Michael Liu seemed to be the only ones who even remained slightly calm after seeing Sharpe’s reaction, and neither of them for a good reason. Kiran Shasthri was sitting in the back corner of the room, her eyes wide with fear; Samantha’s eyes were gently closed, showing a resolved expression on her face. But it was obvious she was angry… and obviously so. Scott gritted his teeth together and clenched his right hand into a tight fist. Whatever was about to happen was not going to be good and he knew it. He had known his best friend long enough to know when something was going on and Emiko was better than just about anyone else at irking any one of them in the homeroom of twenty people. And today, she was at the top of her game.

“Miss Takahashi.” Sharpe’s words were cold as they cut through the air, even amidst the warmth of the air that September morning. Emiko glanced up at him, a nauseating smirk playing on her face. Michael’s steady glance shifted towards Sharpe, then back to Emiko as quickly as it had left. “Mr. Liu.” It was now that the Asian boy frowned slightly. “A word with both of you. Outside. Now.” He motioned to the door that led into the nearest hallway and turned to pace towards it.

Emiko smirked at Michael. “Look who’s in trouble now,” she commented, careful to keep her voice low enough so that Sharpe wouldn’t easily be able to hear. After shooting a feeble smile over at Scott, Michael turned to leave and follow Sharpe. Scott felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. It was not very often he believed in what his sister often called a sixth sense, but the sophomore was sure that this was one of those times he did. And this sixth sense was yelling at him to do something. Because it just wasn’t fair.

It hadn’t been Michael’s fault… nor had it been Emiko’s. It had all happened so fast that even Scott had possessed some difficulty keeping up and knowing exactly what had come to pass. One moment, Michael was swapping history notes and talking about chess strategies with Evan Saunders and the next moment, it was like Michael and Emiko were in some sort of stalemate, Sharpe looking on with a sinister expression of both intrigue and loathing in his eyes. Only one thing had been said and Scott hadn’t been paying enough attention to tell what that something was. And now, all three of them were outside, except for Saunders, who was now passing notes back and forth with Victoria Chapel.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Scott leaned over and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. It was rare to see Scott devote even most of his attention to one person or one thing; often Michael had commented that Scott could easily be quite a bit more brilliant if he’d only learn to concentrate on one thing at a time. The younger twin had always brushed his friend’s remark off without even as a second thought.

Sam nodded. “They have to be,” she replied, her rough voice hardly even a whisper. “It’s out of our hands now and the best we can do is trust that Sharpe won’t let either of them react.” There was a short pause and Sam waited for the conversation between Kiran and Tyler to resume before she continued. “And that he won’t bait either of them in the process.” She shifted in her seat so that she could see outside, but Sharpe’s back was turned towards the window; she couldn’t see his face at all.

“Mr. Liu, I have given you plenty of chance to explain yourself, yet you have chosen not to take advantage of this.” Sharpe’s voice was considerably lower in volume, but higher in pitch than was normal for him. “Same for you, Miss Takahashi.” His voice dropped to a hiss as he spoke Emiko’s name. “Perhaps both of you should come up with a way to solve your problems without creating as much of a commotion in my classroom.” One of his eyebrows arched slightly.

Emiko met Sharpe’s steady gaze with a smirk. “How about a duel of wits?” A smile still playing on the corners of her lips, she turned towards Michael. “Well?”

The Asian boy thought for a long moment, then nodded. “Name your terms,” he replied, his voice slightly tentative.

“Ackerman’s classroom, after school.” She glanced up at Sharpe for a moment, but he said nothing. “You bring one of your friends and I’ll bring one of mine. Other than that, we both come alone.” There was the slightest pause. “Agreed?” She stuck her right hand out and twirled a long strand of dark hair around the fingers of her left hand.

Michael reached to shake Emiko’s hand, a showing a slight wince as he made skin contact with her. “Agreed, but we allow Mr. Sharpe to be present, as well.”

The girl smirked. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” She let go of Michael’s hand and dropped her voice to a low whisper. “Four o’clock. See you then.” With that, she turned and flounced back into the classroom, leaving Michael to wonder what he had gotten himself into. But he would have to wait and see. Right now, it was Emiko’s turn and it was little use to predict what she was planning to do next. He’d just have to sit and wait it out.