undeniable

10| liar

I'M PUTTING MY things in my locker on Tuesday afternoon when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around to see some dude I've never met.

"Hey," he says, flashing me a smile. He has blonde hair that's artfully disheveled, and that you can tell he spent his time on, and steely blue, almost grey, eyes.

I nod before shutting my locker and pressing my back against it, looking up at him.

"Did you need help with something?" I ask, definitely not going for the polite tactic. I need to get to History and I don't have time for pleasantries.

"Yes actually, I never got your name." He gives me what I think is suppose to be a flirty smile but it honestly just comes across as creepy.

"Oh my bad, I thought you already had one." I deadpan, tilting my head at him.

His confident smile wavers, but he quickly recovers. "You're funny."

I nod again.

"So, I actually haven't seen you around here before and I know for a fact I would've noticed someone as gorgeous as you. Did you just move?" He says, pressing his hand to the lockers right next to my head, and standing uncomfortably close to me.

"Can you like, back up? It's called personal space, dude." I say, pushing his hand away from my head, which makes his fall forward a little.

He steps back and lets out a small laugh. "So, did you move here?"

"Unfortunately." I reply, giving him a bored look.

He tries to hide the fact he's obviously getting annoyed with me, and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"I'm Christian, by the way." He tells me, and I sigh, running my hands through my hair that I left down in a soft wave.

"Well, as lovely as it was talking with you Christian, I have to be in my history class in five minutes. Bye." I say, pushing past him, but he grabs my arm and turns me around.

I quickly pull away from him and shoot him a murderous glare.

"I never got your name."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. Now I'm leaving. Did you get that?" I reply, talking to him like he's five. Maybe that'll get something through his thick skull.

He grabs me again and before I get the chance to pull away, someone grips his hand that is clamped uncomfortably tight on my wrist.

I look up to see Sam. Mad doesn't seem to cover the look he's sending his way.

I can see him squeeze his wrist tight enough that Sam's fingers go white, and Christian quickly lets go of me.

I pull my hand back, rubbing my red wrist. What the hell is wrong with that kid?

"Don't touch." Sam snaps. He looks borderline scary.

"Sure, you have fun with the little bitch. She's more work than she's worth anyways." Christian says, making Sam tense beside me.

Only now do I realize he's holding my hand tightly in his. Not like Christian did at all, more like a gentle yet firm grip.

Sam puts one foot forward but I quickly tug him back, squeezing his hand once. "The piece of shit isn't worth it." I tell him.

Christian sees this and lets out a small laugh. "Good puppy," he says, still laughing as he walks away.

We watch him walk down the empty hall. When he turns the corner and is out of sight, Sam quickly looks to me.