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Smooth Criminal

three.

I adjusted the black infinity scarf that hung loosely from my neck once more as I descended from the stairwell, grabbing my backpack that sat neatly on the couch where I had left it the night before to make sure that I didn’t forget it during my usual morning rush.
“Took you long enough,” Parker sighed as he opened the front door.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, shuffling past him to his green Chevrolet Trail Blazer. “My first alarm didn’t go off. I was in a bit of a rush.”
“It’s fine. I just don’t understand why Dad won’t let you get your license yet.” Parker rolled his eyes at our father’s ridiculous mindset as he started the car and rolled out of the driveway. “You look very nice today, Stells.” I smiled over at my brother and gave him a very quiet ‘thanks.’ I plugged my iPod into his aux chord and let the sounds of The Ramones play throughout the vehicle as my brother lit up a cigarette.
“Dad’s going to kill you when he finds out that you smoke,” I say nonchalantly.
“If he finds out, Stells. If.” Parker smirks in retaliation and makes a sharp turn. “The speed limit is 40, moron!” he shouts at the car in front of us that was barely moving. I was so not ready for this week…

“Good morning, Sunshine!” Amanda greeted me at my locker. I pulled out my science textbook and my English textbook and close my locker to talk to my friend.
“Hi,” I grumble, the tiredness very apparent in my voice.
“Oh no. Did you not get coffee this morning?”
The fact that she was able to notice such a minor detail truly amazes me.
“My first alarm didn’t go off so I didn’t have time to grab a cup. I was up until, like, midnight doing this stupid English paper.” As if to further prove my point, a small yawn forced it’s way through my lips. “I’m dead inside.”
“Well you definitely don’t look it,” Amanda gushes at me. I take a second look at today’s chosen apparel - a black Peach Blossom printed pleated skater skirt with an off white t-shirt tucked into it, held together with a black leather belt with black leggings underneath to keep my father from having a heart attack. My makeup was minimal, just light pink and brown eyeshadow with small, black liquid lined wings and mascara and a soft matte, pink lip gloss to add some kind of pop to my awkward lips. The scarf was a last minute decision to distract everyone from having to deal with looking at my nappy head all day since I didn’t have time to do anything with the mess I’m forced to call my hair and ended up having to throw it up in what could pass as the world’s messiest bun.
“I literally rolled out of bed and threw this on,” I admitted lamely.
Amanda gawked at me for a second in disbelief, followed by her dramatic eye rolling. “It took me basically an hour to get ready this morning and all I’m wearing is a stupid Blink t-shirt and skinny jeans. I would kill to just ‘roll out of bed’ and throw something like that on.”
“To be fair, your makeup is spectacularly amazing today,” I offered as the two of us made our way to our first periods. “Good luck on your test, babe!” I called to her as she disappeared into her classroom, “shooting” herself with her index finger and thumb as she dramatically plopped into her seat.
The journey to my first period is usually one I use to compose myself for the day, going over my agenda for the school day, making sure that I did all of my assignments due for that day, and mentally preparing myself for the list of chores I had waiting for me at home. Today, however, my walk of solitude was interrupted by a certain shaggy, sand-colored haired boy who towered over my five foot four inch (today, though, my heels added another two inches) figure.
“Good morning, Miss Underwood,” he cooed sweetly to me. I kept my gaze forward, refusing to give him any of my attention.
“Alex,” I addressed him, my eyes remaining forward.
“You look quite lovely today.”
“Thanks,” I said shortly. I didn’t have time for this nonsense. This dude has got to leave me alone.
“Not a morning person?” Alex asks with a chuckle. I don’t even make an effort to respond to his stupid small talk and keep my strides long and steady. “I’ll take that as a ‘no.’”
“Go away, Alex,” I practically snarl at him as I retreat to the safety of my first period aquatic science class, knowing that Coach Burns doesn’t allow other students into his classroom.
I’m not quite sure what Alex’s infatuation with me was, but I wasn’t about to have any of it. I do not have time for whatever games this kid was trying to play with me. And everyone at Dulaney knows how strict my father is. So please explain to me why the biggest player in the history of ever was suddenly fighting for my attention. I bet it has something to do with the fact that I’m most likely the only girl in the school he hasn’t made out with or hooked up with… I really don’t care. Like I said, I don’t have time for these games. No matter how attractive the player is.

I had made it through a decent part of my day without anymore Alex run-ins, but unfortunately, I had to go to fourth period eventually. I could physically feel the annoyance oozing from my pores as my black wedge ankle boots carried my unwilling body to the English classroom. Fortunately, I was always early to this class, so I had a few more minutes of peace before the inevitable bombard of cheesy pick-up lines and torturous efforts of small talk were forced upon my poor ears. The bell soon rang and there was absolutely no sign of Alex and I felt myself relax a bit.
Mrs. Krumm quickly began her lecture and I hastily took notes, marking things down in the novel we had just wrapped up for notes on the project I knew we were about to be assigned. Fifteen minutes into the class, and the door swings open and a sheepish Alex walks in.
“Sorry, Krumm,” he says with an apologetic smile. “They needed me in the office.” He hurriedly placed his office note on the teacher’s desk and placed himself in his seat.
“Honestly, why am I not surprised, Alexander?” Mrs. Krumm sighed from her post in front of the class. The students around me giggled at her joke. I rolled my eyes. Typical. “So, you guys probably know by now, that after every novel I assign one of my infamous projects.” The class groaned in protest, despite the fact that this was absolutely nothing new. We had already been assigned four projects by this point. These people knew this was coming. Good lord. “However, I have decided to be gracious enough to let this next project be a partner project.” Cue the hushed whispers of excitement and friends amongst the classmates already proclaiming themselves as partners. “However, I will be assigning you to your partners so that I know everyone will be doing their own share of work.” Cue the disappointed groans and protests.
“That’s bullshit!” Billy, some basketball jock who sits in the very back corner says loudly and everyone laughs at his outburst.
“Yes, Billy. I’m aware that it is ‘bullshit.’ But some of my children - some meaning you, Billy - think that group projects mean that other people get to do all the work while you get to do nothing but sign your name on the top of the paper. Not this time. My deepest apologies, dear heathen.”
And with that, Mrs. Krumm raises her glasses to her face and began listing off the names of partners. I began going over the sheet that was passed to me, racking over in my brain ways to do the project.
“Alexander Gaskarth and Stella Underwood.”
My blood runs cold and my heart stops beating.
No. Fucking. Way.
No.
Absolutely not.
This is not happening.
I look to the front of the classroom and stare at the teacher I once held so much respect for and give her the most desperate look I could possibly muster. Krumm gives me an apologetic look and continues reading off names of partners. My eyes shift from her to Alex who was looking back at me with a knowing smirk. My face remained emotionless as I blinked a few times, trying to wake myself up from this God-awful nightmare.
“You have one month to get this assignment done and turned in. I suggest you use the rest of this class period to get with your partner and start discussing ideas.”
Students began shuffling around the room, moving desks together to be closer to their partners, while I just sat, lifelessly, in my desk.
“So I didn’t actually read the book,” Alex admits as he plops himself on the surface of my desk.
“There’s a shock,” I retorted spitefully.
“So are you just, like, not a Monday person in general?” he pokes at me. I grab his index finger that was touching my shoulder and harshly remove it from my personal bubble.
“I already have an idea for the project, so I’ll just do it myself and you can just put your name on it. It’s fine,” I grumble at him, making more notes in the margins of my book.
“Or I can help you get the project together and not be an asshole about it?” Alex offers, a look of true offence etched on his face. “We can start after school. You can come over when we’re out. I’ll give you my address and you can just follow me home.”
I suddenly became very self conscious of the fact that I didn’t have a car, or a license for that matter, and shook my head. “Just come to my place at five thirty. Here’s my address. Do not be late or I will start without you. And I will not catch you up to speed.” I scribble my address on a piece of scratch paper and shove it in his chest.
“Ma’am, yes ma’am!” He saluted me, earning an eyeroll that caused my eyes to momentarily stick to the back of brain. This is actually the worst Monday in the history of ever.

Notes

Comments

This was one of my absolute favorite stories. I am very curious to know if you are going to continue with this? Because I have to know what happens next.

BreaClift. BreaClift.
6/14/21

I want to know if there is going to be sequel to this story?

BreaClift. BreaClift.
3/26/19

I don't remember anything. I need to restart this. Damn, all I remember is loving this. Only more reason to read it all again.

Haha, keepin' it real. :) No worries, the only one that was kind of concerning was the Blink-180 because I think that's the first time I've ever seen that. XD But I figured it was a typo.
:)

Nanook Nanook
1/4/19

@Daydreamers her big reveal will be in the last chapter ;) hang tight.

katybear18 katybear18
1/4/19