The Ballerina & The Devil

Forty One. What's His is His

Of course we were the talk of school.

I honestly never understood why high school students were so damn nosy and curious about things that had nothing to do with them. Was the fact that two people, who happened to find each other attractive (one more than the other), started dating so weird?

Then again, when one of those people was Aidan Benson, the notorious sexy, loner, bad boy with a mysterious past who had supposedly been to juvie, I guess students, and a few teachers (seriously I dead ass saw teachers doing double takes when they passed by me. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I didn't think so), felt entitled to put their two cents in.

Speaking of which, I still never found out if Aidan's juvie stint was true. He managed to skid around the question the one and only time I asked. I had to make a note to myself to bring that up again.

Anyway, it was all very annoying. Especially the way people were looking at me in particular. Through all the jealous and awed look it was clear they all had the same lingering question on their mind:

Why her?

I suppose it was a fair question. I would be lying if I said I myself didn't have the same question wandering around my head. I personally found it a little weird Aidan could have anyone he wanted, and he chose me.

I wasn't complaining though.

I stood by Kenzie's locker after third period with a sour look on my face.

"Slap a smile on that pretty little face of yours before I slap it on for you," Kenzie said cheerfully, digging through her book bag.

"Yeah, let me smile for the audience that's staring at me like I'm some type of damn zoo exhibit," I said dully.

My eyes fell on a group of a girl, all of which that looked to be sophomores, who were not so discreetly whispering and glancing in my direction from their place across the hall.

"Take a picture," I practically shouted, losing the last bit of chill I was holding onto. "It'll last a hell of a lot longer."

Kenzie burst into laughter as the girls fled in a hurry. I gave her an annoyed look.

"What?" I demanded.

"You are crazy," she giggled.

"I'm not, and it's not funny," I whined. "This is so annoying. I thought this staring and whispering shit only happened in movies. My life sucks."

"Oh boo hoo," she pouted. "You're dating the most desirable guy in the building. You poor thing. We should start a charity for you."

I cracked a smile. "Can you be serious with me for a quick second?"

"No because you, my dear, are being ridiculous," she smirked. "What did you think was going to happen when word got around you were screwing Aidan Benson?"

"I'm not screwi-"

"You certainly didn't help the situation when you threw yourself on him for the student body to see this morning," she continued, ignoring my glare. "Speaking of which I saw that, and I must say Aidan looks like an amazing kisser. We should all get together and play spin the bottle so I can take a whack at it."