Dearest, Bad Boy

01

Aspen's POV
I gazed at my alarm clock, waiting for my digital clock to hit 6:00. Just 3 more minutes.

The alarm finally rang and I hit it before climbing out of bed. I stuffed my feet in my furry slippers. I walked to my closet and picked out a black crop top, a pair of gray high waisted shorts, and black knee high socks. I zipped on my combat boots and brushed my hair. I did my makeup and brushed my teeth.

I rushed down the hall to my sister's room. "London, wake up!" I banged on the 14 year old's door that shares the same blood as me, also known as my sister. "What do you want?" The door swang open, revealing my sister's bare face.

"Get ready. I'm leaving in 20." I said before turning my back on her. "Why do I have to go with you?" She asked in a disgusted voice. "Because, Ashton already left for a early lacrosse meeting." I spun on my heels to face her again. She threw her head back and groaned before closing the door. I just turned and walked back down to my room. I grabbed my black leather bag and my phone and keys and rushed down the stairs.

I climbed into my silver Jeep and fixed my lipstick and hair in the overhead mirror. I started my car and my sister climbed into the car. She was wearing a black choker, a tight red and black shirt, ripped black skinny jeans, and black boots. I just looked her up and down before letting out a sigh and driving to school.

We both climbed out of the car and I locked my car. "Be careful and don't do anything dumb." I pointed at London before she rolled her eyes and turned around. I walked away and went to my first class, art.

I took my seat in the middle of the class and opened my binder and started on the activator. "So, class. This is a simple question. Who drew the Mona Lisa?" Ms. Bail asked us. I quickly raised my hand.

"Leonardo da Vinci." I spat out. "Which famous artist was born in 1881 and died in 1973?" She asked us. I raised my hand again. "Aspen." She chose on me. "Picasso." I shot at her. "Good job! Now, which artist was born in 1853 and died in 1890?" She asked. Easy, Vincent van Gogh.

I was going to raise my hand before the door swung open. A tall, male figure stood at the door with a hoodie hanging over his face. "Sir, can you please remove your hoodie?" Ms. Bail asked him. He took off his hoodie and I saw his beautiful features. We made eye contact for a split second before I shot my eyes a different direction. "Ah, you must be the new student. Class please welcome our new student, Axel Jacobs." Ms. Bail spoke out loud. Axel Jacobs, as in, my best friend from elementary school, Axel Jacobs? I quickly shot my eyes towards him, only to realize he was already staring at me. He handed the teacher his schedule, paying no mind to her large breasts or perfectly curved body. He just walked towards the middle row. The only other seat that was empty in the middle row was next to mine, of course. I'm not ready for this... This rebel to be my partner for the rest of the year.

He isn't the boy I knew in third grade, he isn't the boy I had a massive crush on in fifth grade, he isn't the boy I used to play man hunt and Call of Duty with till 1 in the morning.

He isn't... Him.

*****