Small snippet of the chapter being posted tomorrow:)
He leans against the wall, crossing his arms, and finally seems to actually look at you. His eyes move from your hair, to your top, and then down. They stop, and his expression changes.
"Absolutely not."
"What?" you frown.
Isaac gestures vaguely at your outfit.
“You are not going to break into the school dressed like that," he says. "I explicitly told you not to wear heels."
"These are wedge sandals," you correct. "Besides, what's wrong with heels?"
He exhales through his nose.
“Everything.”
“It’s an outfit.”
“It’s not a crime outfit.”
You cross your arms.
“First of all, there is no such thing as a crime outfit.”
“There absolutely is.”
You point at his sweatpants.
“Oh please. Like that is any better.”
“At least I can run in it,” he defends.
“I can run,” you argue.
“In sandals?”
“Yes.”
He stares at you. "No you can't."
"I can!"
“You’re gonna twist your ankle,” he deadpans.
“I will not twist my ankle.”
“You’re going to twist your ankle and then I’m going to have to carry you out of the school like some kind of criminal Cinderella situation,” he explains.
"Okay, first of all, that metaphor makes no sense," you retort. "And second of all, I look amazing."
Isaac rubs a hand over his face like he’s already exhausted.
