Partners In Crime [On Hold]

Chapter Eleven

"Mrs Dowlan?!" I shouted exasperated beyond belief, my arms going directions in unfathomable ways. "It gotta be a mistake!"

"It is not. Now please, I have a class to attend-"

My arm met the wall beside us with a slam, keeping Mrs. Dowlan in place. "I want a new partner."

"Well you can't have it. Now, please Miss Noria-"

"Sorry. I'll rephrase that. I DEMAND a new partner. You don't understand, Mrs Dowlan. I can't work with that guy."

"Actually, dear, you can. He's a good student. And he could boost up your grade a bit. You do know you're below average and last term wasn't all that good?"

"Mrs Dowlan-!"

"Again. I have a class to attend. And so do you." The blonde smiled bittersweet which I returned. I gave up on my childish wish on changing that woman's mind. She was known for her stubbornness, and boy if it showed.

"Fine."

Mrs. Dowlan nodded once and I let my arm fall back to place. She walked away cheerfully, leaving me gloom in peace.

So I was partners with Dipshit.

No big deal.

Really, I am beyond happy. Quite jolly about it, actually. I couldn't think of any finer. He was perfect.

I had to chuckle. To actually believe that kind of sick twisted game God was puzzling with had to involve me. To actually think about spending the same room with that guy for an hour was enough to make me sick. To the border of vomiting.

But being forced to work with him. Talk with him. Sharing the same classroom and talk to people with each other?

I was damn straight hyperventilating by the thought. And do mind it is not by nervousness or any kind of fear.

Okay.

Maybe a bit fear.

But it was mostly because I was pissed.

The dick was a God damn bully. And I do not doubt a second that he had ammo on me.

Fine.

Maybe I was a tad bit nervous, but could you really blame me? He had in fact hurt me. A lot.

Those blue eyes basically told me to go and jump over a cliff every time I saw them.

Those tattoos basically told me he was not one to fuck with.

And his attitude and choice of words was a no brainer. He hates me. And I hate him. We were yin and yin. Water and oil. The opposites. And it did not attract, though kudos for Nove to be light about that particular idea, rather it was the opposite.

Every minute spent with him grew a small bud of hate that would grow. And when it bloomed, it would say boom and there was one of us, lying on the cold floor in tears. We would hurt each other, or maybe more like he would hurt me. And I have no wish for that.

So to hell with the presentation. I could do without a good grade in Bio.

"How'd it go?"

I heard a familiar voice behind me and I turned around, though soon after I frowned in confuse.

"How's what go?" I asked.

Brandon chuckled, strapping his bag tighter. "I could basically hear you from the end of the wall. So you're partnered up with the, uh, that tattooed guy. Forgot his name."

"It's Zack. And yes. I am officially. But no. I'm not going to do shit with that guy."

"He seems nice."