Bomb in a Wildfire

He gave me a heartfelt kiss on the cheek and said, "Go with him; it's too dangerous for you to stay with me." "Well, maybe," I glanced away for a second, fighting off an intense blush, "I like danger?"

0Likes
0Comments
817Views
AA

1. Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

A/N: Hola! I hope u enjoy!  Pls, like, favorite, comment, and support this story and my profile on Wattpad as well! Thx for reading! <3

Corrupt Me With Each Kiss. Copyright @ February 2017. All Rights Reserved.

...

My stomach lurched with panic as I cupped my sweaty palms over my mouth.

What am I supposed to do?! I asked myself. How did I even get involved in all this?!

My friend, Cornelia, barked threats and words of defense for me on the opposite side of the row of desks from one of the two people, who would come to be my official bullies.

"Don't bully a freshmen, you coward!" she angrily barked, clutching the desk before her with intense fury.

"She 'da one who started it!" the aggressive, brown eyed girl, named Mimi, retorted, pointing an accusing finger at me as her troublemaking sidekick, Simon, stood next to her with a huge grin on his face. He was enjoying every second of the drama that he'd helped start. More confusion and fear filled me.

What the heck did I do?! What are they talking about?! I did nothing to them! I barely even talk to them! I went through my history with Mimi and Simon and still couldn't see what I had done to be pulled into this ridiculous show they were putting on with Cornelia.

"I'm from South Central, and we don't play 'dat there!" Cornelia yelled. I had been standing next to her, praying to God that this all would just stop. I was still confused as to how it had even started. It was then that Cornelia began swinging her powerful arms at Mimi.

"Cornelia!" I tried to scream some sense into her, but she was livid. I held her back with a light hold on her sides with my bony, strawberry toned arms. Thankfully, the desks created a boundary between her and the two corrupt cowards on the other side. Soon, a security guard came and managed to get control of her. He escorted her away from the scene, while Mimi and Simon were called to talk to the teacher. I ran to the bathroom in the hallway, hoping I wouldn't be summoned by a resource officer for more questioning.

The bathroom was rundown, its worn out appearance complemented by broken stall doors and sinks with broken faucets. So far my first year at Michael Park High wasn't the best, but I had held my high through the whole first semester and tried my best to stay positive. Even if I wasn't completely honest with myself about how I was feeling about my new, insane, unpredictable school, I didn't want to believe that I was miserable almost every other day that I went home. Besides, it could've been so much worse...

My other friends were conversing in the bathroom. When one of them turned around and noticed me, a domino effect occurred and they all looked at me like I was Jesus Christ himself.

"VICTORIA!" Just when I came to the bathroom to flee interrogation, my friends were now doing it to me, turning my actions vain.

"What happened to Mimi?!" "What happened to Simon?!" "What happened to Cornelia?!" "Did they hit you?!"

"STOP IT!" I roared with frustration. The whole bathroom went silent and one of the girls took a few steps back, stunned by the aggressive side of me that they'd never seen before. I was surprised security didn't find me right then and there, considering how loud I screamed. I then closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Can you guys please just tell me what the heck is going on?"

"Oh, yeah, Mimi and Simon are mad at you," Sadie said simply as if her explanation wasn't totally obvious.

"I got that!" I snapped. "WHY?!"

"Geez, chill, Victoria," Lila tried to calm me with subtle hand motions. "A few months ago, you remember when you told us you're biracial?"

"Yeah?" I rose an eyebrow in question.

"They basically think that you think you're better than all the black kids in our class and want to be completely white because you're mixed." I was ready to stab someone at that point.

WHAT?! THEY PUT ON THIS WHOLE CIRCUS ACT BECAUSE I'M MIXED?! Angry thoughts were swarming through my head.

It all made sense, though... Mimi had always avoided me and Simon had always indirectly bullied me: physically pushing me around, calling me names, saying standoffish things to me, and calling all of these harsh gestures "jokes". They were immature fakes.

I started giggle like a psycho and tried my best not to explode right then and there. "Oh," I chuckled, "just because I'm mixed? Isn't that hilarious?" I forced an innocent laugh. "It's just a little misunderstanding, right? I'm sure we can talk it out."

"They've been talking behind your back for the whole semester now. We heard them and tried to get them to talk to you, but they said that they don't f*ck with you."

THAT IS THE PETTIEST FREAKIN' THING I'VE HEARD UP TO THIS POINT! THEY'RE LIKE THREE YEARS OLDER THAN ME AND THEY'RE STILL ACTING LIKE TODDLERS! HOW DO I GET MIXED IN WITH THESE CLOWNS?!

"Victoria?"

I'M GOING TO KILL THEM!

"VICTORIA?"

I'LL GUT THEM LIKE FISH!

"VICTORIA!!!" I snapped out of my angry trance, jaw agape, and quickly came back to reality.

"Yeah?" I softly replied.

Lila pointed to the door where an officer stood outside of, patiently calling my name. "Security wants you."

...

I set my book bag beside my room door and crawled under the thin, pink comforter on my bed after an ironically long half day at school.

How and why did something so ridiculous happen to me? I didn't do anything wrong, did I? I made sure to hang around only people I can trust... A large lump formed in my throat as hot tears welled up in my eyes. I blinked one away. I just wish someone would've told me that this has been going on for months on end... Why would they go assuming that I think I'm better than others just because of my race, not even ask my true feelings on the situation, and go starting all of this trouble over their own petty, self esteem issues? I sniffled and let my tears moisten the small patch of my pillow next to me before I shut my eyes and took a long nap.

The Next Morning...

I hurried up the loud and busy stairwells, being gently pushed and shoved as I made my way to school by the others kids, who were on their way to their designated homerooms as well. I let my body lifelessly be forced around by them.

What's the point of trying to fight for myself anymore if nobody's going to listen? I hopelessly thought. I'm too soft spoken and physically weak to be able to make people listen to me. 

...

I knocked on the door of my World History class. I had arrived late because I had gotten lost and was too scared to ask for directions, like the timid sheep I was. A student got up from his desk and opened the door.

"Thank you," I mumbled, my head tilted down nervously. He nodded and turned to go back to his seat by the door, displaying his dirty, red underwear above his sagging cargo shorts. It's weird how everyone knows the true origin of sagging pants now, and yet they still do it. I hope they're not preparing for prison-

"Goodmorning, you must be..." the middle aged man looked on his attendance list for my name, "Victoria?"

"Yes, sir." My words were soft and delicate like a rose as I shyly nodded and found a seat in the back of the classroom where a course syllabus had already been placed.

"I'm Mr. Drow. Right now, we're just going over class rules." He directed his attention back to the rest of the class and continued what he was saying. "As I was saying, please don't come to school under the influence or bring any alcohol or drugs on campus...."

"Yo!" I turned my head to the side in the direction the whisper came from. A pretty girl with extremely long platinum blonde hair that she wore a pretty African headwrap over, ocean blue eyes, and fair skin sat next to me with a curious look on her face.

"Yes?" I replied in a matching whisper tone.

"You got some pretty hair." She spoke with a likeable urban dialect. She went ahead and ran her fingers through my long, curly/wavy, red locks that met my shoulders, as if I'd permitted her. She then retracted her now oily fingers from it and rubbed them together, feeling the coconut oil on them. "It's so oily!" Right before I could snap at her and tell her that I wasn't just some black doll, whose hair she could feel when she pleased, she followed her bold comment up with something even more unexpected. "That's how you know it's healthy!"

My eyes widened and muscles relaxed. Maybe she wasn't so bad? "You mean you're not going to say, "Ew, it's all greasy!", or anything like that?" I asked with much confusion. She folded her arms on her desk and hid her face in them to stifle her laughter before she could reply, "Nah! I put grease in my hair too, girl!" What kind of crazy school am I going to? "Now, I know what you gon' say, "But you a white girl!" No, I'm black." I tilted my head to the side, trying to figure out this puzzle of a girl.

"Um...okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "So, what yo' name is, Ginger?" Why the heck should I tell you? You already act suspicious! How do I know that this weirdo isn't going to betray me like the others, who I thought were my friends?

I shyly shrugged and looked away. "Tell me yours, first."

"I'm Heather."

"'Such a pretty and...gentle," I tried to wrap my head around her. How could someone so open and peculiar have such an ironically fragile, "name,"?

"Yeah, so what's yours? Oh wait!" She clapped her hand over my mouth before I speak. "'Da teacher dude said it's Victoria, right?" I nodded my head, "yes", and she took her hand from over my mouth. "You cool, Tori."

"Thanks," I forced a giggle. "You too." God, help me! This school is full of crazy people!

"Heather, Victoria, pay attention, please!" Mr. Drow ordered from the front of the classroom. We stopped talking immediately and continued to listen to him.

...

"Hola, mamacita! Lemme cop a feel!" I whipped around, hoping that whoever this rude loser was wasn't talking to me like that! Thankfully, he wasn't, but the girl that he was talking to seemed pretty flattered. She was a beautiful girl, seemingly Hispanic, with tan skin, long, wavy, jet black hair that reached her hips, and brown eyes. He tried to grab her butt, but she playfully slapped his hand away and gave him a shy, perky giggle, "Meet me outside after class, 'kay?"

He deviously smirked, "Alright, then."

I found my seat in the back of the Spanish class. The same girl who was actually flattered by that jerk treating her with no respect sat beside me, a huge, invisible cloud of fruity smelling perfume hitting me as she sat down. My nose quickly began to burn. I tried to turn my head away from her to avoid the smell, but it still crept up into my nostrils.

(A/N: I love speaking and learning Spanish, but I'm still learning so if you're a spanish speaking reader can you pls tell me if my grammar or spelling is off? Thx!)

"¡Buenos dias, clase! ¡Bienvenidos a Español Dos! (Goodmorning, class! Welcome to Spanish 2!)" Our teacher was a short, but pretty woman with an evaporated Puerto Rican accent. She started passing out syllabuses. As she did so, the girl next to me got out a small notepad and flipped to a page with a beautifully elaborate dress design on it. She began working on it, adding more colorful patterns and accents to it. I didn't think it was too obvious that I was watching, but she still noticed my curious green eyes on her work.

"'You need somethin'?" she sternly asked, not taking her brown eyes off of her work for even a second to look at me.

"N-No, I'm sorry." I looked away with embarrassment from being caught. "I just really like your work."

"Thanks," she replied monotonously.

"¡Hola, chicas!" The teacher gave us our papers. "Te gusta español?"

"Si, a mi me gusta mucho. Es muy interesante (Yes, I like it a lot. It's very interesting)," I happily replied.

"Ah," she nodded with a proud grin on her lips. "Veo que tenemos una estudiante muy inteligente en nuestro clase durante este semestre (I see that we have a very smart student in our class this semester)." I took a moment to fully translate what she'd said.

"¡Gracias, senora!"

"¡De nada!" And with that, she went on to the other students.

"Alguien está feliz aprender español," the girl muttered with a small, taunting smirk on her lips.

I blushed and tried to translate her words again. "Yes, I really like Spanish. I see that you speak it?"

"Who said that I speak it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in question. "Are you assuming that because I'm Mexican?"

"No, but you said that sentence without hesitance and with a full on Mexican accent. That made me think that you know-"

"Who said I'm Mexican?"

"Y-You did..." I was becoming a bit irritated now.

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!"

"'You have proof?"

I sighed and accepted defeat; there was no understanding these crazy kids. "No, no, I don't."

"Eso es que pensé (That's what I thought)."

"Oh my gosh!" I buried my head in my arms on my desk as she victoriously chuckled to herself. After a moment of recollecting myself, I looked back up at her.

"Since you know Spanish so well, can you please teach me more about it? More than what they teach you in the textbooks. I want you to teach me like," my eyes pondered as I tried to think of the right words to say, "Mexican slangs and more about the culture. Please?..."

Her eyes wandered to the ceiling as if she were thinking about it, then her eyes fell back on me. "Money talks, and you're completely silent right now."

I huffed and turned away from her towards the board. "Nevermind. Thanks anyway."

"I'm kidding, Roja Pequeña (Little Red). Calmate, calmate (Calm down). I'll teach you."

"Okay." I turned back to her. "When?"

"Are you free after school?"

"I can make time tomorrow after school, if that's okay with you."

"That's good. What's your name?"

"I'm Victoria."

"Chanel. You're really tiny, Victoria."

"Yeah, I know. I'm guessing that's why you call me Little Red?"

"Exactly," she chuckled.

...

On my way to the English building, I decided to take a quick route in between the gym and the auditorium, but my route was blocked by a very entertaining scene. Chanel and the guy that was flirting with her in class were there, flirting once again, or at least I thought...

"I'm a big fan of Hispanic girls, mamí," he said, pressing her up against the brick wall.

She wore a mischievous grin and spoke seductively to him, "Right, now on your knees." I cringed at the nasty occurence and watched as he did as she said. I was about to leave and forget all about meeting up with Chanel after school the next day, until she grabbed him by his hair and slammed his head into her knee. His nose was spurting out blood as she pinned him down on the ground and began relentlessly punching him.

"Don't call "mami", because I'm not your mom! Your mom is giving head to any dude she can find on the streets right now! And I don't appreciate you trying to grab my butt earlier! I am a princess, and you will treat me as so!" The extreme violence scared me horribly. This chick was loca...in the coolest way possible! I didn't want to see anymore, though! I quickly sprinted off to English class.

...

The bell had rung and the teacher still hadn't come to class. This was so weird, but at least I was starting to feel better since yesterday. I went up to a tall guy and tapped on his shoulder. He's pretty cute, I thought.

"Excuse me, do you know where the teacher is?" I politely asked.

"You're speaking to him," he said as if it were nothing.

Oh my gosh, I just called the teacher "cute"! Ewwwwwwwww-

"Oh," I tried to awkwardly laugh off the look of pure terror on my face. "I thought you a student as well."

"It's okay, I get that a lot," he chuckled. He must be fresh out of college. Poor guy...young teachers always get walked all over by their students.

After a short introduction, I sat alone in the back-just the way I liked it, and he started class. Halfway through class, I got up to go to bathroom. Sitting beside the water fountain, I found a boy with raven hair and light olive toned skin holding his head as if he were having an intense headache.

"Hey!" I called to him, not too loudly for fear I'd make his supposed headache worse. I made my way over to him and knelt down next to the guy. "Are you okay?" I asked, a hint of concern in my voice.

"I'm fine," he said with a deep voice, wincing from the pain.

I wouldn't listen. "Do you have a headache? Do you need to go to the nurse?" I took his pained groan as a "yes", gently pulled him up by the arm, and started for the nurse's office. "Did you hit your head on something?" I asked him.

"No. It's nothing..." I studied him long and hard. What had this dude been doing to end up like this?

After I got him to the school nurse, I was sent straight back to class with an excuse. All the while, that mysterious guy was still on my mind.

On my way to lunch, I spotted him with a group of girls from my English class coddling and asking him why he didn't come to English in the courtyard.

So, he's in my English class, huh? That explains why I'm missing a partner in that class....

I didn't wave as I passed him or anything; he wouldn't want a loser like me making others think I knew him. He seemed pretty popular, my opposite. As I walked passed the group, I felt something sliding into my back pocket and immediately slapped my hand there to feel what it was, accidentally feeling his warm, gentle hand as it quickly slid away. A five dollar bill?

Did he just-? I looked back at him. He was still talking with his friends as if nothing had happened.

"'Sup, Tori?" Suddenly, Heather was walking next to me, and we were conversing about random topics.

A smile of comfort and pure happiness rested on my face. I guess not all the kids here aren't as bad as I thought they were?...

...

A/N: Sup, guys? Don't forget to like, fav, and comment this story on here and Wattpad! I hope you liked it! I deeply appreciate the support! Comment who ur fav character is so far and what you think will happen to Victoria in future chapters! Cheers! <3
 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...