Oaklyn.

Chapter 2.

Ever since my run-in with little miss "my hair is platinum" yesterday,  I haven't been able to think about anything else. I'd survived practice barely, Nick continuously smirking at me like he knew some huge secret. 

"What?" I bit harshly, glaring over at his smug expression.

"Nothing, nothing..." He shrugged, closing his locker. 
"So, Oaklyn?"  He questioned, I groaned internally. 

"What about her?" I commented, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Come on! You know she hates you man, how the fuck did you get her to stay put and have a conversation?" He questioned, Evans head had picked up quickly.

"What!?" He questioned, leaning into our space. For fuck sake.

"It was nothing," I snapped, narrowing my eyes.

"Sure.." Nick dismissed.

"She seems close with that Lucas guy, doncha' think?" Evan asked Nick, obviously looking for some sort of reaction.

"When you 2 have stopped gossiping, we better get going," I demanded, Nick rolled his dark eyes at me.

"Fine, fine. But I'm not dropping this," He winked as he walked past me, Evan chuckling as he followed close behind him. 

I was under no illusion that Oaklyn liked me, quite frankly she hated me and I never understood why. It bugged me more than I'd like to admit. Now listen, I didn't have some stupid little crush on her or anyone for that matter. She infuriated me like no other. The way she'd purposely avoid me in the hallways, constantly rushing to get away from me when I did manage to track her down (like yesterday), the way her eyes sparkled happily when she was with her friend...Lucas? She never came to basketball games, never attended a single party, or the way she didn't fall head over heels for me. Yeah, that's definitely what bugged me the most. 

Not to sound too big-headed, but I could have any girl here. One wink and they're on their knees in front of me, dying to keep my attention. Girls here swoon over me, not being able to suppress the pinkness of their cheeks when I lingered my gaze on them. But her? Nothing. All I got from her were hard stares, sarcastic comments, and eye rolls. I wanted nothing more than to turn her into a submissive little mouse like the rest of them, but that would take time and effort. Was I willing to do it? Absolutely.  

Oaklyn Santidore would be a tough one to crack, but I'd do it.

That's why I'm failing math, just to get some alone time with her. Fucking pathetic isn't it? All of this for one girl's attention, a girl who was meant to be one of my biggest enemies. Oaklyn's father ran the English mafia, he's always challenging my own father for power, constantly sabotaging each other's profits and business. I'd met Oaklyn's father on 2 or 3 occasions, each one brief and unfriendly. Before I was older and shipped off to this shithole, I was my father's shadow. I was obsessed to see him run his mafia, how everyone respected him and how he had total power. I wanted to be like him, to make him proud of me, because it was clear to a blind person, he never has been. 
There are 3 different fathers.
1, who loved unconditionally.
2, who loved only on success.
3, who never loved at all.
Over the years, I've come to the conclusion he's 3, but there's always hope, right? I mean, I am convincing myself I'll get Oaklyn Santidore to fall for me. 

"Mr. Fulton?" An annoying, female voice cut through my thoughts, my eyes snapping up to the teacher's face. I'll be honest, I can't remember her name.

"Mhh.." I hummed in reply, trying to actually remember what lesson I'm in. 

"I hope you're paying attention back there, otherwise I'll have no other option but to punish you," She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.  I take it she wasn't appreciating my uninterested posture.
 Hold up, punish? Sign me the fuck up.