The Bad Boy's Charm

CHAPTER ONE

"We're closing in about ten minutes," I say to Dylan Blakewell, the most popular and hottest guy at my school.

He looks up at me from his books and then to the clock on the wall above me. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "I thought Starbucks closes at 10pm on a Sunday?" he asks.

"Oh, it does. Today though we are shutting at 6pm due to the music festival that starts in an hour. There is a notice on the door. Didn't you see it when you walked in?"

He looks to the door then back at me. "No, I didn't. I just tried to get in here as quickly as possible."

"Because of the rush hour?" I ask, but never get a reply from Dylan. Instead, he just looks down towards his books on the table, which I suddenly realise are school books. Dylan Blakewell studying? That's something I thought would never happen. Actually, everyone thought that would never happen. Most people believed that Dylan Blakewell was going to fail in life when others thought that he would pass with flying colours because of his good looks and charms. "Studying for the Maths test on Tuesday?"

He looks back up at me with embarrassment written all over his face, which kind of makes me feel guilty. I wish I would have kept my mouth shut and never asked anything.

He brings his hand to the back of his neck and rubs it while probably trying to come up with a good enough excuse to why he's studying. "Yeah," he responds.

I find myself wanting my jaw to drop to the ground in shock. That was not the answer I thought he was going to give me, I thought he was going to make up some excuse.

"Only because my parents said if I don't get a C on the test I'll be grounded and I won't be seeing my phone until I do get that C." Well, I'm not surprised that my shock lasted all but two seconds with Dylan. I just knew it was too good to be true. Bad boys don't study. Bad boys don't get good grades.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind packing up and going someplace else so I can lock up and go do some studying myself, I would much appreciate it," I say with a smile.

"Yeah, sure," he says. I watch him as he grabs his math book, notepad and a pen and just stuffs it into his backpack. If I was him I would be afraid to get them out. They're all probably damaged now. But that's me, a little bit of a control freak, nothing that Dylan will ever be.

Just as Dylan makes it to the door he turns back around to face me. "What time does Starbucks open tomorrow?" he asks.

"It will be closed all week due to the music festival," I reply.

"Oh..." In this moment I see the bad boy appearance just crumble apart. Right now I stare at Dylan Blakewell, a guy trying to impress his parent and probably finish High School with good grades.

"Is everything alright?" I quickly ask as I see him about to leave the coffee shop.

"Yeah, of course. Well, bye." And then he left.

I immediately went over what just happened and the same thing kept repeating over and over in my head. I wasn't sure if I was right or not but I sure wanted to find out.

Grabbing my stuff from the little cubby-hole in the staff room and making sure everything was shut off and all the windows were shut, I swiftly made my way out of Starbucks and locked the door. I look in the direction I saw Dylan walking and move as fastly as I can down that road.

Rounding the corner of the street I saw him about to cross the road. I quicken my pace towards him shouting his name to get his attention. At first, he doesn't seem to see me but I shout his name again when I get closer to him. This time, he does see me.