What happens when you can't even recognize your own parents, but you're able to identify the most notorious playboy in school? //
Asher Thomas lives in a world where she isn't able to recognize people's faces, including those of her parents and even...
Once the bell rings, I'm the first one out of the class. Before I leave, however, I jot down my number and my name on a slip of paper and fling it at Aaron. I'll have to contact him sooner or later to meet up and work on the project, though I prefer the latter.
I leave Aaron and his crude words about Chloe in my wake, erasing his snark from my mind and burning it to ash. Then, I burn the ash.
I haven't walked five steps down the hall when there's a yell. Clenching my fist, I whip around, and Aaron is stalking towards me. I set my jaw and continue marching down the hall, hastening my pace, but his long legs catch up to me easily. Aaron grabs my arm, forcing me to stop. Gasping, I wrench my forearm from his grip, staring at my skin as if it's just been stung. My arm hasn't even turned pink; he barely touched me.
By then, a small crowd has begun to accumulate around us, which is expected. Wherever Aaron goes, another twenty people follow. It's science, rules of nature – it seems that natural selection hasn't gotten all of them yet.
"You left," Aaron says. He looks surprised.
"Are you deaf, too? Did you not hear the bell?" With a snort, I turn to walk away again. He laughs, his hand going for my shoulder. However, his finger centimeters away from my t-shirt, he retracts his arm and stuffs his hand into his pocket. When I turn to him again, he looks sheepish. Almost.
"Hey," he says. "No more running."
"Can't guarantee that," I mutter. "I have places to go."
The gaggle of people glower at me, taking in my dirty Converse and gym shorts. Aaron looks at none of that – he tips his head, peers at my eyes. I stare defiantly back, eyebrows pulling together.
"Dinner. Tonight." He says. He smiles, flashing his pearly whites. Half the girls swoon, while the other half jealously stare at the ground. I'm not sure what drugs he is on now, but this, at least, is an easy question. With a laugh, I reply with a 'no'.
Aaron seems to be prepared for this response. "You're turning down a dinner date with me?" He smirks, crossing his arms. "How delusional are you?"
I glance at the clock, making sure that I have enough time to get to class. "If you want free vodka," I retort, "Just ask your cronies. They'll give you five bottles." I tip my head, flashing him a wry smile. "Oh, wait. Maybe ten."
He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, maybe there's vodka involved, but Asher - come on. Pick you up at six?"
"In your dreams," I say. It's my turn to laugh. "You've done enough to the girls in this school, Aaron Blakely."
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AARON
No matter how hard I try, her words can't leave my head. In your dreams, she said. You've done enough to the girls in this school, she said. While I'm aware of the reputation that I've built around myself, it's still surprising to hear someone criticize me aloud. I'm not used to people making demeaning comments about me, but with Asher Thomas, there's always a first.
