The Starbucks Contract

"It's simple, really. We become your boys, you become our girl."

That's what was said. Just a "simple" contract. What would happen if I sign it...

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2. Chapter Two

I dropped my binder.

By being tripped, making me crash onto the floor, scattering all of my homework and notes in the hallway.

I swear I'm not the clumsy type. I have never broken a dish before in my life. It was really because a foot that was in my way while I was trying to find some homework in my binder. I tried to ignore the laughter and comments of me as I crawled around the floor trying to pick up my stuff. People passing by kicked it farther away from me and walked over it leaving their shoe prints. It was barely a week of school here in Dartwell High, home of the Dragons, and I'm already being bullied. As I reached for my A+ English project I worked so hard on, a shoe was placed on top of it.

"Why hello there, Nerdy Naomi," he said with a smirk.

I gritted my teeth, my papers crumpling in my clenched fists. "Hello, Raymond."

His hand grabbed my collar, forcing me to stand up. Then he pinned me to the lockers, making me drop my binder and everything in it once again.

I smirked. "What's wrong Raymond, you still hate the name your mommy gave you?" I cooed at him.

He glared at me, and lifted me off the ground with my collar. This only let me stare into his cold, brown eyes.

"I never knew this is how you lift a girl off her feet."

He came closer to me, inches away from my face. My brown eyes looked through my glasses and into his own. "Yeah sure, if I can even call you a girl."

At the final word, Raymond suddenly let go of my collar and made me crash on the floor, landing on my butt. I winced in pain, landing right on the coccyx. I did my best to stand up, but he knocked me on the ground again with his foot.

"Gee Raymond, you sure know how to knock a girl off her feet."

He didn't reply.

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "What's wrong? Can't come up with any comebacks lately, Raymond?"

"Shut up Naomi. Just be sure to stay where you are," he growled at me lowly before adding, "At the bottom." With that, he left to rejoin his friends, laughing along with them.

I sat there on the floor. People passed by whispering and giggling at me and my state. They kicked, stepped, and even picked up my papers just to rip them to shreds. I knew what they were doing with my papers, is what they wished they were doing to me.

I quickly went back to focus and picked up everything again. This time I put my binder in my backpack and walked through the hallway. I was shoved at walls, pushed around, and almost tripped by other feet that magically appeared in my path. When I reached my locker, I removed the Kick Me sign off my back and threw it into my locker. I heard "boo's" and "aw's" from a group of guys who must have put the paper on my back.

This is the average day of Naomi Lorraine, also known as Nerdy Naomi. The seventeen year old, nerdy, good girl with straight A's, a poor wardrobe, and always at school. The perfect victim to bully when you feel blue or so angry, you just want to hurt someone. They all just come to me. And what do I do? I let it come at me. I don't try to tell anyone about it. My parents and teachers won't solve anything. They might even make it worse. And I have no friends. I mean, come on. Who would want to be friends with me, just to lower their social status?

Honestly, I don't know what I did to make this happen to me. I'm just an average looking girl, with my own eyes at east. People are always caring what they look like, while I'm too busy caring about my grades. I felt that if I didn't care about my looks, it wouldn't matter. Yet it did. Why else am I still bullied?

Maybe it's because something is just plain wrong with me. It's because of that, that I've been bullied for so many years, that I'm grown hostile with anyone, everyone. How can you trust anyone when everyone has treated you like a piece of gum stuck at the bottom of a shoe? 

 

 

The bell rang for fifth period, AP chemistry. I sighed. A great way for people to "accidentally" pour dangerous chemicals on me. Everyone already left the halls as I exchange my books. I'm probably the only one left. Even though I'm late, at least no one would pick on me on the way there. I headed to class and took a sharp turn around a corner, only to crash into someone, knocking me to the ground a second time.

I groaned.

"Thanks so much."

I looked up and saw who I bumped into. Bennett Frazier. He's a new transfer student, who came to this school a year ago, along with two other guys. Transfer students are pretty rare. When he bumped into me, he was startled, his blue eyes widening in surprise. Then, he put on a blank face. When he saw it was me, of course.

"Sorry. I didn't see you there," he told me, monotone, making me suspect he was being sarcastic.

I glared at him. "Sure you didn't."

Bennett blinked. "No really-"

"You know, just because people pretend I'm invisible, doesn't mean I'm going to act like it."

He recoiled. "Wait I-"

"And just so you know," I continued. "Just because you have a higher social status than me, doesn't mean you can just walk over me."

"I don't even know what you're-"

I cut him off again. "Whatever," I snapped. "I'm already late to class because of you."

I quickly got up from the ground, bending down to pick up my binder. And he reached down to do the same.

"Here, let me-"

I grabbed my binder before he could and glared at him. "I didn't ask for your help," I snapped, making him flinch at my harsh voice.

I quickly got up on my feet, then shoved past him for good measure, before walking away.

Quite a good first impression, don't you think?

 

 

I arrived at class, which was chaos. Kids were out of their seats, talking as loud as they could, using their phones, chewing gum and sticking it under the desk. When I came in, they all ignored me. Thankful for this, I sat down in my seat. My lab partner groaned at the sight of me.

"Right back at you," I growled at him.

Mr. Ford, my AP chemistry teacher, cleared his throat, though it was useless, since everyone continued to talk. But despite the fact, he talked. "Class, we'll be having a seat change. You don't have to sit alphabetically anymore. But I'll be choosing your partners, which you'll be going to have for the rest of the year."

Some kids cheered, some groaned at the thought of having to sit next to me, and my lab partner pumped his fist into the air.

"Freedom baby!"

"First," the teacher said, looking down at a piece of paper, which I assume is the new seating chart. "Lorraine and Wallace, go to table one."

I got up from my seat and sat at the desk near the window. Jordan Wallace, another one of the new transfer students. He looked up at me when I was walking towards the table. He gave me a big smile, probably doing his best to hide a frown, instead. He had these mischievous eyes. Eyes I know too well, from all the past bullies who have played countless pranks on me. I plopped down onto my seat, deciding to ignore him while the moment of peace was still there, before he irritates me.

He held out his hand to me as if he either wanted me to shake it, or he wanted to slap me with it- It's most likely the latter.

"Hey, the name's Jordan."

I gave a small glance at him. Is he actually being nice to me? What will he do? Give me false hope that we'll be friends, then pull his infamous pranks on me? So instead, I looked back at the board.

"Naomi," I muttered. 

"You're dirty?" He asked in confusion.

I turned to glare at him. "It's Naomi," I corrected.

He grinned from ear to ear. "Well, I couldn't hear what you said, so I thought you said dirty. You don't seem like the type, though."

"Why would I say that?" I asked in disbelief.

He shrugged innocently. "Beats me. You shouldn't mumble."

"Well you should get a hearing aid," I retorted back.

He raised an eyebrow. "Wow, feisty."

I opened my mouth for another comeback, but Mr. Ford cut me off.

"For today's lesson, we'll be mixing different solutions and watching their reactions."

"I know my reaction for this class," Jordan announced.

The whole class turned to him, then he dramatically yawned.

"Boring!" He exclaimed.

That got a few laughs, even Mr. Ford managed to chuckle. Jordan looked at me, and looked disappointed to see I didn't even smile.

"What do you have, Botox?" Jordan asked. "If you can't show expression, blink twice."

"That was so funny, I forgot to laugh," I said with a blank face.

As everyone started to talk among'st themselves, I started on the classwork. I quickly jot down notes and formulas needed for the experiments we would be doing. But I suddenly stopped and looked up to see Jordan, watching me.

We just awkwardly stared at each other.

He scratched his head, his shaggy dirty-blonde hair shaking as he did. "So... I take it you're not the sociable type?"

I scoffed and returned to writing. "I am, but others just choose not to socialize with me."

He chuckled awkwardly. "That's kinda sad."

"I don't need your pity." I snapped.

"Didn't think you did."

I stiffened, pausing in the middle of a formula. What did he mean by that?

"Yo teach, when will we get this party started?" Jordan called out.

Mr. Ford sighed. "Soon, Mr. Wallace, soon."

"Patience is virtue," I mumbled to myself.

Jordan blinked. "What does pa-teince mean?" He asked as he cocked his head to the side.

For some unknown reason, I managed a small smile, causing Jordan to give me another grin. It's so contagious, I had to fight back.

"There you go," he said, winking at me with a green eye. "I knew you weren't a robot."

I blinked. "Excuse me? A robot?"

"Yeah, you know. Why is that human leaking?" He said in a robotic tone as he waved his arms like a robot.

I couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Why is he doing this? Why does he try his best to make someone like me laugh?

Jordan laughed, and playfully punched me in the arm. "There you go! Being stuck with a serious partner would make it a pretty boring year, you know?"

"And you don't care who I am?"

"What do you mean by that?" He asked.

Okay. I didn't know if he was joking this time, or not. I opened my mouth to reply, but Mr. Ford cleared his throat. Once again, cutting me off. The nerve teachers have these days.

 

 

The rest of the class period, we had to do worksheets. From time to time, Jordan would make a big show of asking the teacher for help, even when he clearly didn't need it. Then he would make long glances at my work, making me cover my paper with my sleeve. He should get his grades on his own. When class was dismissed, I quickly packed up my things and left the room. Jordan seemed to try so hard to befriend me, and even if his motives were good, I can't let him do that. It's best not to ruin his reputation because of me. Even I can be surprised by my compassionate side.

But Jordan was either really oblivious of the fact, or he just didn't care.

"Hey Naomi!" Jordan called out as he pushed other kids out of his way. "Wait up! Let me walk you to class!"

There were a few gasps here and there, as kids had heard what he just said. Fingers were pointed and snickers were shared at the two of us. This is exactly what I didn't want to happen. I blended into the crowd, and ran as fast as I could, out of Jordan's sight.

Stay away from me. For the both of us.

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