𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙 𝐵𝑜𝑦 | 𝐽. 𝐾𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒 |

~ 2 ~

I jumped, splashing the small tray of paint that I had all over my smock and jacket. Seeing as paint on my clothes was not my top priority, I ignored it and spun around on my heels, pausing my music and yanking out my earbuds.

In front of me stood a boy my age, who was just a little taller than I was.

He had chestnut brown hair that was swept to one side, a jawline that could almost cut diamonds, the most unique blue eyes that I had ever seen.

He also had a huge adorable smile on his face, but I wasn't going to admit that I thought that out loud.

"What the hell?!" I asked him, suddenly remembering that he had nearly given me a heart attack.

"You can't just walk up on people and scare the shit out of them like that," I said.

His smile faded a little, making a small part of me feel bad.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. But the teachers sent me to help," he said in kind voice.

"It's okay," I said. "Wait, help? And who are you? Are you new here?"

He nodded. "My name is Jack Kl- Killian. And yeah, I'm new. Instead of going to the trouble of assigning me classes for three days, the counselors just agreed to have me help you."

"Oh. That makes sense. Well, incase they didn't tell you my name, I'm Bexley King," I said.

I started to offer him my hand so he could shake it, but pulled it back once I realized that it was pretty much covered in half-dry paint.

Jack's eyes wandered down to my jacket, widening.

"Your jacket," he said.

"Huh?"

"Your jacket- it has paint all over it."

I looked down, then groaned and rolled my eyes when I remembered that I had jumped and splashed the paint all over myself.

I sat down the tray of paint on a table that I had set up, wiping off my paint-covered hands.

I took off my jacket, and laid it out in the table.

"Damn. Now I'm gonna get cold," I muttered, shivering a bit.

"Here," Jack said as he began to take his tan colored jacket off, leaving him in a solid dark red flannel and a navy blue and white striped shirt.

"Oh, you don't have to. I'll probably just get paint on it anyways," I said.

Before he could insist that I took the jacket, one of the old metal double doors to the room swung open, hitting a wall with a bang.

In walked Willow, the class slut and head cheerleader, her two henchmen; Jacey and Emma, following right behind her.

"I thought I smelled trash," she said, a smirk on her face,

Jacey and Emma sniggered.

I shrugged in response. This particular comment didn't get to me.