Love Punched | COMPLETED

05. Universal Signs

"Replace the beautiful with cold and add a few more adjectives like pissed, doesn't-give-a-damn and really-good- at-ignoring-nuisances-like-Derek-Greyson."

I was glad I didn't have to stop by my locker since I already had the books for the first four classes in my bag. I wasn't looking for a tardy slip, you know. And nor did I want Derek to know where my locker was. 

The dark-haired boy chuckled from besides me and put his arm around my shoulder.

I eyed it like it was a tentacle of a slimy octopus.

An octopus headed for it's death and becoming the dinner at some Chinese restaurant.

I internally chuckled.

Man, I'm evil.

Not bothering with saying anything, I shot him a frosty glare and he smirked, wiggling his brows. 

"What? Feeling tingles? Blushing? Heart pounding?" Derek brought his face close to mine and whispered. Staring back into his copper eyes, I feigned indifference.

I snickered at his words. "No, more like murderous plans going through my mind so if you don't want to end up handicapped for the rest of your life I suggest you remove your arm from my shoulders."

He ignored me like I hadn't said a damn word, still cockily grinning and I clenched my jaw.

"Sorry, Kitkat. No can do." He smirked arrogantly and then I released an agitated breath before throwing open the door to History class in Room 16.

•♤•

After two periods with the lunatic, I was trying to act cool. Trying because he was certainly pushing my buttons. 

"Catch you later then, babe!" He called out to Phoebe Duncan and then hurried after me. I rolled my eyes.

Derek cleared his throat and followed me as I weaved my way through the crowds to third period Biology.

"So, Kitkat, you seem especially sour. Why."

He didn't even say it like a question. Nope, it only had arrogance and the expectation of an answer.

"Your presence has that effect on me."

"Nah, I think it's stemmed more from something like jealousy." He smirked and wiggled his brows.

I gave him an amused expression at his delusional words. "You really are a loon. Keep dreaming, Greyson."

"I will." He gave me a look like 'what made you think otherwise?' and I barely managed to not groan. 

Then with twinkling eyes, he appraised my fluffy white sweater. I felt a hand tugging on the hem of it and I shot him a nasty look. He smirked and then gestured to the sweater.

"It's so soft!" He cooed about my favorite sweater.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the moment I was certain that Derek Greyson had indeed lost his marbles and was a certified loon because no badboy in his right mind would coo over a fluffy white sweater a girl was wearing.

Or maybe they would. Wattpad lied.

"Um, yeah. It is. Very soft." Don't blame me for the lack of response.

"Did your grandma get it for you?" His eyes were shining with childlike mischief and I blinked, fumbling with my words.

I shot him a preposterous look. "Why does that make me feel old?"

He chuckled and as he looked around us, taking in the new surroundings, his hand trailed to the sweater's arm and he started stroking it.

I suddenly felt myself backing away.