Derrick's sudden declaration hit the hall like a tidal wave, sweeping through the air and leaving gaps of stunned silence broken only by bursts of disbelief and excitement.
Even I almost wasn't exempt. Macho Derrick had just thrown the shit straight into the fan.
"What?" A voice snapped from the arena—it was Deandra.
The red-haired princess furrowed her brows, her bright crimson eyes darting to Elijah and Williem, both wearing the same puzzled expression.
And there Derrick stood, his monstrous frame looming like some mad colossus, arms spread wide as though he were basking under stage lights with the entire world beneath his feet—
…or at least, that's probably how the muscle-brained instructor with his generous streak of narcissism felt.
Macho Derrick's grin stretched wider, brutal and unrestrained, flashing rows of bold teeth. His eyes burned with a dark, infectious excitement.
"This is good."
