The Bad Boy Hates Me

Chapter 10 - Hunger Strikes

Sara Paxton as Victoria McWicht

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"Ann, who are you smiling at?" He asked, his gazed fixed on the direction I was before looking.

"Nothing." He looked at me skeptically. His brows furrowed, as if he was calculating all of my moves. I raised my brow at him, and he smiled. I blushed as he tucked the loose tendrils behind my ear.

What is he doing? In the corner of my eyes I saw Mia and the others stared at us searchingly.

"Come on, we'd better hurry up or we'll be late," he said as he wrapped his hand around my wrist and we walked to our first class.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" He stated.

I stared at him oddly. A warm smile never leaving his face.

"Are you on drugs, East?"

Easton laughed.

"No. Why?" He said, still chuckling.

"Nothing. It's just that... you seem a little weird." I admitted.

We walked into the room and took our seats. He sat beside me. Everyone was preoccupied doing their businesses. I took out my notebook and pen and set them on my desk.

"Is being happy a crime now?" Easton mused. He supported his elbow on the desk and rested his face on his palm, facing me.

"No. No. It's just that you are not you."

"You don't know who I am, Ann," and that made me shut up.  It's as if someone slapped me in the face with a durian. But what can I do? Reality hurts. Who am I to tell him that the way he acts now isn't him? I'm just a transferee he knew in two weeks.

"Right," I said, smiling. "Um, it's a lovely day." I chuckled awkwardly. I turned away from him and focused on something else. I started scribbling random words and emoji on my notes until I begin to doodle.

I'm not very good at drawing. What I enjoy doing the most is playing instruments. Among all instruments, I think piano is my strongest suit. In my previous school, w e were taught that we should master at least one field of instrument. I'm not particularly skilled at this. Lucia... was more skilled at it. In fact, she excels at everything.

There my insecurities go again.

Suddenly I felt a warm hand enveloped my hand. "Hey."

"Ann?"

"What?"

"You doze off." Easton said and I shifted on my seat.

"Don't think of me too much." He smirked.

I rolled my eyes at him. "You wish."

"Oh please, you don't have to deny."

"I don't deny because there is nothing to deny."

"Now you're denying it." He pressed and poked me on the ribs.

"Know what? I'll keep denying it because I didn't!" I grumbled. Why does that line sounds familiar?

"What are you denying, Annathea?" he asks, his brows knit together, but a goofy grin appears on his lips.

I whipped my notes at his shoulder, but he didn't even flinch or budge; instead, he seemed amused, which added to my frustration. The class gave us a strange look. I pursed my lips and placed my notes back on the desk. Easton laughed.