The Slut's Story (#wattys2019)

Chapter 3

"How about another time? I have to go now. You know how strict Mr. Larry can get." I bit my lip while tracing my acrylic nails over his jawline. He had a very impressive jawline; not gonna lie. But I know that he is not my type. If Liam was a person who was meaningful in my life, I would definitely love him as a friend, in the most platonic way possible.

"When will that be then?"

"You know when." I winked and left him alone. In the library. With a boner.

As I walked to the fifth period of the day, I took a look at the door. It was so tempting to just open it and run out of this school, where I would be free. But what can I say? Mr. Larry, my Spanish teacher, just happens to be one of the many guards that Chris (my kidnapper) has appointed. Honestly asking, am I really worth this much of his money and time? If he wanted to make me suffer, he could have just killed me already. I mean, that's kinda what I want as well. But it can't happen. Because life sucks. And so does destiny and fate.

I opened the door to the classroom, to see that everyone was staring at me. I looked to the front of the class to see that Mr. Larry was writing on the Promethean Board with a worksheet in his hand. Shit! I forgot to do that.

"Miss Dawson. Any reason for being late?" Mr. Larry asked me. I ignored the lust-filled gazes from the guys and the annoyed glares from the girls.

"Yes. I do." I replied.

"May I ask what that reason is?" I shook my head in denial.

"No. You may not." I sat down in my seat, hooking the straps of the bag to the back of the chair.

"And why is that?"

Because according to the fifth amendment of the United States Constitution, I have the right to remain silent when I want to.

I wished I could say that. Come back to my sassy self. The one that I was over two years ago.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I was interrupted when the door creaked open. I wasn't able to see the person as the door was behind me. I didn't want to be rude. Do you know how awkward it is when the whole class looks at you as if you murdered someone just because you came late?

"Who are you?" Mr. Larry asked.

"Um." He cleared his throat as soon as he heard it sound a little hoarse. "I'm a new student. Sorry, I'm late. I couldn't find my way around. I just came to school, too." He sounded English. Hmm. New accent.

Mr. Larry thought for a second before his face it up in realization.

"Clyde Beaumont, is that right?"

"Yes, it is."

"Come in. Stand in front of the class and introduce yourself." I heard the footsteps coming closer and closer until they stopped. I looked up from my paper as he started talking.

He was... I didn't even have any words. He was tall. A little less than six feet. He wasn't like any other guy that I've known other than really bulky and tall, or somewhat tall and fat. He was different.

He was lean. His first appearance didn't show too many muscles, but I knew that he would have them, though. His brown hair was a little shriveled, but spiky, which gave the look. His black nerdy glasses matched perfectly with his hair and pale skin tone. His heart-shaped face went well with his body physique.

His smile made me feel comfortable about the fact that I'd be in school.

"Well, that's all about me. I hope to know about you a little more in the year." He smiled at the class.