Bad Meets Good

A Lucky Guy

About thirty minutes or so into us fooling around in gym with one another, Carter moves his neck over to the side briefly and slips his big hand inside the neckline of his muscle shirt before scratching his back. I stare over at him amusingly before my face contorts up into one of disgust once I catch glimpse of the various markings on his skin. I suppress myself from gagging at the sight of them and peer at my nails instead.

I’d be lying I was to say that I’m happy for them because I’m not. I don’t even know what they are but I want it to go away and never return. She’s no good for him and I’m pissed off that they even share a weird connection with one another. My hatred for her is thriving.

Three ear-splitting whistles sound throughout the area in which all the scattered students reside—talking amongst each other, doing yoga, and playing basketball—and I find myself inwardly cringing at the annoying sound on the bleachers. Majority of everyone turns to look at her, giving her their undivided attention. “There’s seven minutes until the period is over. Go get changed.”

She drops the whistle from her loose grasp and lets it fall freely against her light pink cotton shirt before retreating off. I’m quite astounded at the fact that I literally did nothing this whole period but just talk with Carter. I just hope she lets us do want me want for the rest of the week. I don’t feel like exercising and doing any activities.

Standing up from my once seated position, I cautiously walk down each set of bleachers gradually until I’m almost ground level. Just as I had somehow expected, my foot skips one of the mustard colored benches and a low shriek leaves from my mouth as the pit of my stomach drops to the bottom. I can already feel my body lurching forward and I initially start to close my eyes, as if bracing for the fall. When it doesn’t come after a couple of seconds, I reopen them and realize that both of Carter’s hands are around my shoulder, stabilizing me.

He chuckles from behind me before removing his hands slowly. “Yep, you’re still the same klutz I’ve known for years.” He teases.

This is why I should have walked down the stairs instead. I’ve never went up or down a set of bleachers without wobbling and losing my balance. Maybe my equilibrium is off or something or I really am the clumsy person everyone claims I am. However, I’ve gotten better over the years, if I must admit. I literally use to stumble over air when I was younger.

I guess you can say I experience my episodes occasionally.

“Oh, shut up! That was an accident and I wouldn’t of have tripped if that bench didn’t get in the way.” I say while walking alongside him.

“Correct me if I’m mistaken but you’re trying to imply that the bench mysteriously got in your way the moment you went to take a step?” he says and I nod my head up and down.

“Yes, that is exactly want I’m saying. That bench purposely got in the way and I almost died!” I say and I try my hardest to keep a straight face but a grin breaks out on my face and an obnoxious laugh comes out afterwards.

He shakes his head at me amusingly before we both part our own ways and stroll towards our designated locker rooms. It takes me about a minute or so to reach the two doors and I finally push my way through it. Almost immediately, the various aromas of body mists overtake my sense of smell, making me scrunch my nose up. I hate when people bathe in their body sprays.

Brushing the topic off, I retrieve my stuff from my locker and place it on the bench behind me. I lazily pull my shirt over my head and take my pants off afterwards when all of a sudden I hear snickering coming from behind me when I go to grab my skirt from the bench.

“Nice panties, London!” an all too familiar whiney bitchy voice says when I turn around. My eyes narrow at her as the smirks spreads further across her face. “Who got those for you? Your grandmother or did you pick them out yourself seeing that you have no type of style whatsoever?” she asks, earning a chuckle from one of her friends and the attention from some bystanders.