My eyes fluttered open, colors blurring into focus until my bedroom materialized around me. What time was it? I didn’t even remember falling asleep. I twisted my head, glancing at the clock.
8:00 AM. Shit.
I scrambled out of bed, quickly splashing water on my face, brushing my hair, and tuging on a pair of jeggings and an army green shirt that slid off one shoulder. A quick swipe of makeup, and five minutes later I was racing down the stairs and out the door.
“Would you like some—?” my mother started.
“Not now, Mom! Gotta go!” I called over my shoulder.
I pulled into the school parking lot with seven minutes to spare. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. I usually took forever to get ready—this morning was an exception—but I never arrived late.
Stepping out of my car, I power-walked through the lot, passing couples locked in saccharine embraces and muscle-bound jocks flexing in a circle, as if it were a ritual. At least the weather was pleasant. A warm breeze brushed my face and tangled in my hair. The trees swayed with the breeze, and birds chirped a spring melody.
I pulled myself from my daydream, remembering Physics was first hour. I couldn’t afford to be late. I picked up the pace. But my plans were interrupted when I was yanked off the stairs and dragged into the alley between two connecting school buildings. I squeezed my eyes shut, ready to scream, but a large hand clamped over my mouth.
“Shut it, clutz.”
My eyes snapped open, and my face twisted in disgust as a pair of piercing green eyes bore into me.
“Mmmgmgmd,” I mumbled, unable to form coherent words.
“Hmm? What was that? I can’t hear you, love,” Damon’s voice rumbled, laced with a hint of menace.
I stared blankly at him, trying to appear indifferent. He removed his hand, but kept me pinned by my wrists.
“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
“Making you late,” he replied with a smirk.
“Why?”
“Because I can.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Again with the mouth,” he chuckled, leaning closer.
My breath hitched as his teeth grazed my neck. I tried to wrench myself free, but it was useless.
“Let me go…please,” I choked out, the word tasting like ash.
“That’s better,” he released me, “White.”
“It’s Scarlett.”
“Whatever.”
Damon glared at me, and it was the first time I truly saw him. He wore a grey Pink Floyd shirt stretched across his chest, exposing toned muscles, a dark blue plaid flannel, and black jeans. The light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles. His wavy dark hair fell across one side as he cocked his head.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.
“Don’t you wish,” I spat back.
I turned on my heel and walked away. I could hear his chuckle as I left, but I refused to look back. Damn him. He was attractive, but his appalling attitude ruined it. I glanced at my iPhone.
8:35. I loathed him.
•••••••••••••••••
The lunch bell rang and I hurried out of fourth hour. I walked down the hallway, lost in thought. Students swirled around me, but I felt isolated, as if my footsteps echoed louder than everyone else’s. TAP TAP TAP, my combat boots resonated through the hall. Why me? Why did he choose to mess with me? It had to be some karmic debt I was paying.
I scanned the black lockers until I finally reached the exit. I found Rachel, and we headed to Arby’s. Rachel looked radiant today; her thick auburn hair curled around her face, and the spring sun had deepened her freckles and tanned her skin. Spring suited her.
We ordered our food, and I began to recount this morning’s encounter.
“I can’t tell if he’s just a jerk, or actually into you,” Rachel stated.
“He’s definitely not into me. He just enjoys tormenting me. I think he’s doing this now because I punched him yesterday…”
“Yeah, hitting him probably wasn’t your smartest move,” Rachel giggled.
“It’s not funny!”
“Oh yes it is.”
“I hate you,” I said, trying to stifle my laughter. But it was no use. Soon, we were both cracking up.
I walked up the stairs towards math class, dreading each step. Mr. Garrison stood by the door; I nodded to him before entering. I glanced around, hoping Damon wasn’t there—or at least, not yet.
I rested my backpack on the floor beside my desk, turned to my friend Leila, and started discussing our baseball team’s latest game. A couple minutes later the bell rang and Mr. Garrison began lecturing about implicit derivatives. The clock ticked by—five minutes, ten minutes—then the door creaked open. I glanced to my right to see Damon casually enter.
Mr. Garrison’s voice squeaked on the whiteboard, “Where have you been?”
“Held up,” Damon replied, handing him a tardy slip.
Damon headed over to his desk behind mine, and I avoided eye contact at all cost. But I could feel his gaze burning into my back. He looked down at me, and smirked.
I rested my backpack on the floor beside my desk, turned to my friend Leila, and started discussing our baseball team’s latest game. A couple minutes later the bell rang and Mr. Garrison began lecturing about implicit derivatives. The clock ticked by—five minutes, ten minutes—then the door creaked open. I glanced to my right to see Damon casually enter.
Mr. Garrison’s voice squeaked on the whiteboard, “Where have you been?”
“Held up,” Damon replied, handing him a tardy slip.
Damon headed over to his desk behind mine, and I avoided eye contact at all cost. But I could feel his gaze burning into my back. He looked down at me, and smirked.
Warm air brushed my exposed shoulder, and I spun around. Damon was leaning over his desk, peering at me through his lashes.
“I like this shirt.”
He slowly lifted his hand and hovered it over me. His nail traced a path from the top of my collarbone to the end of my shoulder.
“Are you finished yet?” I asked, my face blank despite the goosebumps prickling my skin.
“Not particularly,” he whispered. Damon suddenly dug his nail into my shoulder.
“Ow!”
Everyone turned and looked at me; my face flushed crimson.
“Is there a problem, Scarlett?” Mr. Garrison asked.
“Not at all.”
Once everyone returned to their work, I turned my head and mouthed ‘bastard’ to Damon. He snickered and replied with a crooked smile, revealing a flash of white teeth.
After the bell rang, I stood up and headed toward my next class. As I walked, my friend Eric approached me with a wide grin.
“Hey!” I smiled back.
“Aye, Red, what’s up?”
Ever since middle school, he’s given everyone nicknames. He’d decided ‘Red’ was an appropriate rendition of ‘Scarlett’.
“Nothing, just another school day,” I lied. “You?”
“Same. Hey, you got plans for spring break yet?”
“When do I ever have plans?”
Eric laughed. “True, but everyone’s going to the lake for a few days and camping out. You should totally come!”
It did sound fun. “I’ll think about—”
“What’cha two talking about, lake trip?”
Damon’s arm draped over my shoulder.
“Hmm, no, I don’t think I remember inviting you into the conversation,” I said, glaring at him. He just smirked.
“Red, you’re too harsh. Hey Damon, wanna go to the lake next week? Everyone’s gonna be there.”
“Ooo, I wish I could, but I have plans next week.”
Damon wouldn’t be there? It felt like the heavens opened and angels descended singing praises.
Damon turned to leave, and I blurted out.
“Eric, count me in.”
I heard Damon pause for a split second, then he resumed walking down the hall.
Eric flashed his toothy smile. “Great! I gotta go, see ya!”
Two more long hours crawled by, and the final bell rang. I headed outside, kicking gravel on the way. I reached my car, grabbed my keys, but they slipped from my fingers and clattered against the ground. Sighing, I bent down to retrieve them, but a grey Converse stepped on them first. I didn’t even look up.
“Damon, get off my keys, or I swear I’ll—”
“Just making sure you don’t lose them in the gravel. Why are you so quick to assume the worst of me?” He asked playfully.
I stood up and looked at him. “Because I can,” I threw his words back at him.
His green eyes darkened. Oh.
“C’mon. We’re going out.”
Huh?
Damon grabbed my wrist and started dragging me toward a black Mustang.
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Damon Black: the guy you slapped yesterday, remember? You have some transgressions to pay up on.”
I struggled, but his grip was stronger than my entire body, which only made me angrier. The next thing I knew, we were in his car.
Then, we were off.