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tried to engage the class, asking them deliberately simple questions and making them laugh with his corny jokes whenever possible. I didn’t once crack a smile.
    Blake ignored me for the bulk of the class, but as it was winding down, my luck ran out.
    “So, Ms. Lake, why don’t you tell me what you think the appeal of digital technology is when it comes to journalism?”
    He was baiting me. I just knew it. “I think it’s easy to get your message out to the masses,” I replied, purposely keeping my tone flat.
    “That seems like a simplistic answer.”
    “Would a decorative one make you happier? Maybe I could put a ribbon on it or something.”
    Blake furrowed his brow. “I just thought you might want to expand on the topic.”
    “Not really.”
    Blake crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the desk at the front of the room. “Most people believe that information is the most important thing to build a strong civilization. Don’t you believe that?”
    “I believe that it depends on who is spreading the information,” I said. “Just because someone puts something out there and says it’s fact, that doesn’t mean it is.”
    I knew my answer was pointed. I’d meant for it to be.
    “Do you agree to the stipulation that there are two sides to every story?”
    I shrugged. “Sometimes. Of course, just because one side has a story, that doesn’t mean it’s right.”
    There was a general murmur going through the assembled students. They could pick up on the animosity between Blake and me, but they couldn’t figure out what was fueling it.
    “Well, by that same argument then, the side that thinks they’re right could very well be wrong,” Blake said.
    “Isn’t that true for both sides of an argument?” I countered. “One side thinks they’re right, and the other knows they’re right?”
    “Yes,” Blake said. “One side still has to be wrong.”
    “I agree,” I said. “The most important thing is one side realizing they’re wrong. I don’t see that happening very often, especially around here.”
    “I guess not,” Blake said, glancing around the classroom. “That’s all for today. We’ll get into this in more depth on Wednesday. Ms. Lake, can you please stay after class for a second?”
    I made a face. Who didn’t see that coming? I remained in my seat while everyone packed up their belongings. A few of the girls in the front row shot me curious stares as they left. If I had to guess, they were hoping to stay late themselves so they could spend a little extra “quality” time with Blake. Asking me to stay had thrown them for a loop.
    When it was just the two of us, Blake fixed me with a hard look. “How was your summer?”
    “It was great,” I said. “I made a lot of money, and I hung out with some friends. There might have been some beer, too.”
    “That’s good,” Blake said. “I’m assuming that Mr. Winters was up there with you.”
    “You’re not assuming anything,” I said. “I’m sure you had someone check up on us. That’s what you do, isn’t it?”
    “Why would you say that?”
    “I’m not playing this game. In fact, I’m done playing games with you. Period.”
    Blake pursed his lips. “I understand you’re probably upset … .”
    I arched an eyebrow. “Upset? That’s putting it mildly.”
    Blake held up his hands to placate me. “I’m not trying to start a war here.”
    “You already started one last spring,” I said. “I think trying to enslave vampires to wipe out hundreds of werewolves constitutes a war.”
    Blake wrinkled his nose, glancing to the open door between the classroom and hallway. After a moment, he strode toward it, pulling it shut and cutting me off from the milling brethren only a few feet away. That might have been cause for concern before, but Blake didn’t scare me anymore. Not even a little.
    “You’ve always been immature, Zoe,” Blake said, moving so he was standing in front of me. “That was even more