chapter 1

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"just because I have a good body and don't dress like a grandma everyday of my life doesn't mean you should be able to dress code me!" you scream, bewildered that you are actually getting dress coded in the middle of math class. "its inappropriate and you look like a hooker Ms. y/l/n" the teacher replies to you. everyone in the class has there mouths open in shock over the reply. "oh fuck you, go get a life rather than just looking at my body!"  you reply with passion. "excuse me! I will not tolerate this type of language and behavior in my class! detention after school in the art room!" 

you saw this coming. 

you slam your fists on the desktop and sit down with your arms crossed. you already know that the whole rest of the day is going to suck just because of the crop top and shorts you are wearing in 90 degree weather. you need to find a way to take a few deep breathes somewhere. 

you raise your hand politely with  a smile. "what is it now y/n?" the teacher says, fed up with you. "I just wanted to know if I could go to the bathroom, lady problems." you say, lying. "whatever, take the hall pass" the teacher says, turning back around to continue teaching the class. you stand up and take the hall pass next to the door on your way out of the classroom. you are most definitely not going to the bathroom, you are finally out of that horrible classroom, and you are not about to waste it. 

you take out the lighter from the pocket in your shorts and begin to light it, rubbing your fingers through the orange and red part of the flame. you continue to do this while walking, as you pass the gym room, you hear someone screaming at a teacher. you look through the window, to where nobody can see or hear you, and listen into the conversation between the student and the teacher. its a boy with a red Mohawk, stupid haircut, and Mr. Johnson yelling at each other. 

"whatever! just because I beat that kids ass during soccer doesn't mean that I should get detention for it." the boy with the Mohawk says with his fists clenched. obvious anger issues. "it was not just because you pushed that kid to the ground! its the level of disrespect you bring to this classroom everyday that is giving you detention!" the teacher replies. the boy with the Mohawk has no response, just a face full of anger. "I will see you in the art room for detention after school Mr. Moskowitz" the teacher says. "whatever, I'm just gonna go to the bathroom" the boy says, making his way out of the room. 

you stand up and move yourself away from the window, making it less obvious that you were listening in on their conversation. the boy opens the door and makes eye contact with you on his way out. he looks at your body up and down while biting his bottom lip. you scoff in return to his sexual behavior before even getting to know you. "damn.. I mean.. its hawk" the boy with the Mohawk says, putting his arm around your shoulder, looking down at you. you scoff, look at him in his eyes, and move his arm off your shoulder "yeah, whatever Mohawk". 

"what are you doing out here with that lighter, princess?" hawk says to you, you honestly like the nickname but you wont show him any emotion. "I got detention so I'm just trying to get out of class while I still can" you say in reply to his question. "well I guess I will see you in detention, maybe its fate?" he says, trying to be smooth with you and get under your skin. "or a curse" you say walking away, lighting the lighter back up and brushing your finger through the flame. a smirk appears on his face as you walk away.

you already know he is going to become obsessed with you. 


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