"Bad boys- They're cocky, arrogant, and distracting... but maybe that's just what I need."
Jess is your not-so-typical teenage girl with a genuine heart and punk style. She's not fond of bad boys and Brett is the worst of them. He always seems to kn...
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Chapter 3
Meeting A Bad Boy
I could hear Mar's footsteps, following closely behind me. I knew her, and knew she had a million words sitting on the tip of her tongue. I internally thanked her for not saying anything though. I replayed my outburst in my head, over and over as I make my way to the gym hall. My words came out strong, like I wanted to feel. But I couldn't help but feel a little bad, for saying everything I did. I had meant it, but it didn't mean I should of said it.
My brain was under siege, opposing viewpoints tousling for the upper hand. In the end, a feeling of righteousness won over guilt. We hit a fork in the path, one leading to the gym, the other to natural sciences. Mar gives me a look, and I nod, "We'll talk at lunch." With this confirmation, she heads down the hall, and I in the opposite direction. The thought of being with Andy now, as a couple, made me angry. I couldnt believe the way he'd tried to manipulate me with that jacket. I knew exactly what he was hoping would happen. I'd shyly say yes and wlak off. He'd get to smooth things over without having to deal with my questions, knowing the crowd would make me timid and docile.
This just wasn't something I could easily forgive. I sigh, "Well I guess that's one way to get over someone." I make it to the gym, which was split into two levels. the upper level was for weights, the lower level had changing rooms and gym floors. I slowly make my way down the stairs to the changing rooms, not bothering with the railing. I was lost in frustration and thought. I felt a tap in between my shoulder blades. It wasn't forceful, but it was enough to throw me off balance. As I found myself free falling, I reached for the railing, but it was too far away to help me now.
Luckily there were only about eight steps between me and the ground. I hit hard on my knees, felt the cold sting, and winced as I held my knee. I whip around to see who'd bumped into me.
I looked up to find the shocked face of an utterly gorgeous guy, around my age. He had blemish free skin, light freckles along his nose and cheeks, and very angular features that were somehow soft all at the same time. He was tall and he had the most wonderful hair. It was strawberry blonde, almost red. And the best thing? His eyes. they were a deep Ivory green and stared into your soul like he knew exactly who you were and what you've done. After the initial moment of shock subsided, he slid down the railing, plopping his feet beside me. He reached down and offered me a hand, still wordless. I waved him off as I pick myself off of the floor. I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell him off. But I'd had enough outbursts to last me a lifetime. I decide against saying anything and turn to my left for the locker room.
I look down at my wrist, to see him holding it. I stop for a moment and look at him. I could feel the heat radiating off of him. Perhaps he was just that warm of a person, or perhaps I was standing in a basement gym in winter.
"You didn't hit your head, now... did you?" He asked. he seemed concerned, searching my eyes for signs of concussions or whatever other head injuries required direct eye contact.
