Playing The Bad Boy's Game

"So, who sits here?"I whispered, noticing the other empty seat beside me.
Blondie glanced to the clock. "Him," he said just as the time clicked 10. The door opened and I looked up.
My pencil dropped to the ground, eyes wide.
Oh. My. God.
It's him.
The first drug dealer that began my parents addiction.
The player that stole my best friends virginity.
The wicked monster that sent my cousin to rehab.
The hottest guy I've ever seen.
The reason why my life is hell.
And he's coming to be my English partner.

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1. Chapter 1: Really. -_-

Chapter 1: Really. -_-

I slung my weight-less leather hobo bag as I skipped two steps at a time up the long staircase to American Chester High. I placed a gum stick in mouth and blew a quick bubble, snapping it loudly. I smirked at the rude glares from pedestrians as I continued to face forward.

Being late on the first day of school isn't exactly a good impression. However, I clearly didn't care. My life was already a spiral staircase to juicy hell. This was an easy step upwards.

"Watch it you scumbag!" yelled a drunk homeless man as I jumped over his box of beer bottles. This place isn't exactly a high security area either.

It was because of my friendly neighbour Satan. In other words, the devil. Well, the human version of the devil. He certainly acted like a demon. Now that I think of it, the damn hot version of the devil. I know, why do ALL the bad boy's have to be so gorgeous?

I swung open the seven feet glass door and followed my way to the office, acknowledging the cameras from each end of the corridors.

I was here because of him. As expected, I was pissed. My therapist said I had to get away. Move out of Canada. To live with my aunt, the only member left that he hasn't screwed around with. She was the only one without a jail record so it seemed reasonable.

Then again, what was reasonable anymore?

A sweet woman greeted with a warm smile. "How can I help you, dollface?"

"RivynDeLor, the new student fr-"

"Ah yes, I heard about you. One of the top 20 most intelligent teenagers of Canada and award winning MVP soccer player. You have a very high record of accomplishments, Miss DeLor."

I plastered a fake smile, deeply hating that fact that she thought she knew everything about me. "Well, that's me!" I gritted bitterly through my teeth. I stole a sudden glance at the office clock.

9:20 Forty minutes gone out of the day; not bad for the first time.

"Well, here's your schedule and information sheet about our programs and activities," she said, handing me a few papers.

"Thanks," I said, actually meaning it this time.

"And soccer season is starting soon too! I'd love to see you on our fields!" she added.

I reached for the handle and hustled around the corner, pretending I didn't hear her. "Doubt it," I mumbled. I scanned through the papers and found my locker, number 2595 on the second floor.

I sneaked into the elevator and went up, easily finding my locker. My fingers spun the combination and popped open the door. I attached my mirror inside and checked to make sure everything was in place. I nodded with an approving grin as my eyes lingered along my denim vest, black crop top, white short shorts and black stripped knee socks. I looked bad-ass. Just what I was going for.

I got a quick flash of my subjects.

Period 1: English

Period 2: Phys. Ed

Period 3: Science

Period 4: Visual Arts

What an easy semester. All academic except gym which is open and visual arts, of course.

I threw in my extra books for the other subjects and plugged in my ear buds as I closed my locker. I changed the music to a club beat as I banged the lockers like drums. I did a little dance in my furry boots and spun around, just to find my English class down the hall. Room 261.

I knocked a sick beat that matched the song, waiting patiently for the teacher.

No response. I knocked again, this time, the beat a little more complicated.

No one came. I sighed and brought the volume down a bit from my iPod and barged in.

"Good. Now mould into a rock, feel the wind shape around you as your body blocks the gentle gust. Find your Zen."

"You have got to be kidding me," I groaned. Yoga class. Great. I quickly turn my vision to the side, blurred from the twelve ass' pointing towards me. Where the hell was my English Class?

"Excuse me," I interrupted, taking out an ear bud. "Is this Mr. Gillian's Grade 12 English class?"

A freckled ginger looked up and shook her head. "They're in the library, miss. Look at the bottom of your schedule."

I skipped to the bottom, near the fine print.

'Mondays and Thursdays: English class in the library'.

"Oh," I said stupidly as I turned around, closing the door behind me. And why didn't the secretary tell me this?

I took out my phone and checked the time. 9:40, I'm officially one hour late. One of the janitors walked by and I quickly asked where the library was. He gave me the directions and I began half walking and half dancing my way, the music blaring into my ears until I reached the library.

I opened the doors, thinking to myself why people would be doing yoga in an English room, completely not even noticing the library was absolutely silent. I ignored the twenty pairs of eyes locking on me and several whistles, heading for the empty row at the back.

Just as I'm about to take a seat, the teacher, Mr. Gillian, cleared his throat and said something but I couldn't hear him. "Pardon?" I blurted out, pausing the music.

"And you are?"

"An eighteen year old women that just walked in, blaring music from a very expensive iPod," I said smiling.

"Can you tell me once more except without all the details?"

"The new student from Canada."

"Ah, yes." He pushed his black framed glasses up with a frown. "And why are you late?" His stern gaze made me slightly shudder. I hate those kinds of people.

"I'm not used to waking up so early," I said sitting down and continuing with the music.

He mouthed something again but I couldn't hear. "Pardon?" I asked stopping the song. What does he want now?

"Come sit here," he said pointing to a seat in the front row. "And your name?"

"It's RivynDeLor," I answered making my way to the empty chair. I swear I could see a small bit of dry gum on the bottom. Gross.

A cute blonde boy beside me checks me out, glancing all over. "Well, hullo Rivyn. You're looking fine," he flirted.

I smirked sitting down. "Honey, you ain't getting nothing of this."

Everyone laughs, enjoying the entertainment. He grinned and glanced back at his work. The excitement simmered down as Mr. Gillian continued with the lesson. "So, who sits here?" I whispered, noticing the other empty seat beside me.

Blondie looked to the clock. "Him," he said just as the time clicked 10. The door opened and I looked up.

My pencil dropped to the ground, eyes wide.

Oh. My. God.

It's him.

The first drug dealer that began my parents addiction.

The player that stole my best friends virginity.

The wicked monster that sent my cousin to rehab.

The hottest guy I've ever seen.

The reason why my life is hell.

And he's coming to be my English partner.

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