"Ser", he pokes my cheek with the tip of his pencil and I pin him with an exasperated scowl. Why does he have to act like a needy puppy? Doesn't he realize his existence bothers me, the way his eyes survey every inch of my skin or the way his gaze radiates this weird intensity?
"Seraphy", he sings. Xavier is succeeding in making my first day at school a nightmare. And 'nightmare' is an understatement. "Do you have a sharpener?" He whispers and I click my tongue in annoyance. Xavier has been annoying me for over an hour. And that too for a pencil and I'm no hawk but I can see seventeen sharpened pencils in his backpack.
"Shut it", I hiss and he pouts. If he isn't such an ass, I'd say he looks cute but shitty personalities and good looks don't make men, they make boys. "Life without you is like this pencil", he holds up the blunt pencil and I grimace, "pointless."
I suppress a fangirling tantrum and school my expression into that of disgust. I forgot to add the word 'try'. "Mr. Blaze and Miss. White is there something you'd like to share?"
I gulp, couldn't he have continued teaching and ignoring our banter like he'd previously done, or is everyone out to get me? "I'm just telling Ser here, that my life without her in it, is absolutely pointless", Xavier remarks, and I second my theory. Everyone is officially out to get me.
"Quit capping, you're just mad Caitlyn's outta your life and you want another White to snag her spot", I seethe as some girls begin boring holes in my skull while others simply gush about how much of a sweet talker Xavier is.
Sweet talker my ass. He has a god gifted talent of filling my ears with cheese every time he opens his mouth. Xavier smirks. Translation; my world is over. Like O-fucking-ver. "Is my gorgeous angel jelly?" He mocks and I contemplate throwing him out the window or shoving his pinky finger into my mechanical sharpener. It's not like that'd do any damage since his fingers are long and slightly thick and won't fit.
I bet they'd perfectly fit elsewhere.
Why is my mind being so traitorously dirty this morning? A strange sensation fills the pit of my stomach and a flush creeps onto my cheeks as I push my legs closer. Xavier notices my unexpected reaction, on cue his smirk widens. Oh lord of the heavens please please, please! Please make him think he was hallucinating. God, I'm sorry for not attending church but can you kill this piece of trash. You said no sex until marriage, he's a walking STD. How isn't he in hell as yet?
"Settle down class. I've finalized your assessments for this semester and you have a group project. Your partner will be the person sitting next to you."
A chorus of groans fills the class and I plot Xav's murder. God really has it in for me. I should consider adding Church to my Sunday schedule especially since Xavier is my Bio partner. On the brighter side, it is just one project and since Xavier and I spend so much time around each other we'll get truckloads of work done. Prof goes on to list what is expected of us as well as explaining the project but I can't concentrate courtesy of Xavier. I whip my head in his direction, preparing an entire speech but the words die on my tongue.
He's leaning back in his chair, cross-legged and head tilted. His blond locks are disheveled and the first two buttons on his shirt are undone showcasing enough skin to make girls drool. His exposed skin and unkempt hair aren't causing the gears in my head to stop or the words to die on my tongue; his eyes are.
The intensity of his gaze is what bothers me, just how he makes me feel is clawing me up from inside. It's making me feel things I'm not supposed to feel as if my entire body is on fire. And I'm burning but it's a pleasurable sensation that has me addicted.
"You may begin discussing your project", and with that Prof leaves the classroom and instantly the class becomes the nosy fish market it once was. I sigh, shrugging off the unfamiliar sensation brewing in the pit of my stomach.
Lust, lust, lust.
The last thing on my To-Do List is to hook up with the bad boy and become a high school cliché. Another belt on his notch, another toy, and another heartbroken delusional girl. Mascara is too expensive to waste on a guy.
Before I can talk myself out of feeling anything more than lust his body looms over mine and a hand slams down on my desk, caging me between his body and the wall adjacent to the desk. His breath fans my neck and then my earlobe as he shifts his head.
The sudden screeching of a chair snaps me out of my reverie and the realization that we're all alone in a classroom hits me in the face like a punch. "Xav!" I exclaim. My hurried movements cause me to slam my head into his chin and pain explodes. He falters away, slamming his hip into the corner of a table and I wince.
Ouch.
That shit's a real bitch.
Apologies for all the profanities.
"Are you okay", wow Brook. Of course, he's not okay, he injured himself twice. He rolls his eyes at me and I pin him with an apologetic look.
"Sorry", I mumble reaching forward and caressing his chin. I slowly massage his jaw, trying to soothe the pain. "Ya' know", he whispers suddenly, causing me to jump in surprise. He chuckles at my reaction and I pout, "you could always kiss it better if you're feeling too guilty", he jokes and I lightly smack his chin. He breaks into a playful howl and I can't help the grin ghosting over my lips. He looks so much better when he's beaming.
The sheer happiness radiating from him makes my heart combust and the butterflies in my stomach run rampant. And it's supposed to terrify me, but right now, in this very cliché moment of my life, where time has stopped; I don't care. Right now, I want to encase him in my arms or kiss the living day lights out of him because right now, he looks normal, like a bubbly teenager, not a depressed asshole with problems as big as Jupiter.
And I can't help but fall for him.
All of him, the ugly scars and the wounds, the jovial grins and the smug smirks even his teasing, his chivalrous attitude, and his obnoxious remarks. I think I even love the cliché parts of him, the crazy, insane parts too.
I think I like him.
I think I really like Xavier Blaze.
But I know I have to let him go, Caitlyn likes him and she's my sister even if she's a Mean Girls Parody, she's my sister and we share something deeper than puppy love, we share blood.
I'm not a fan of bittersweet endings but as quickly as a crush begins it has to end. You can either get over your crush or get crushed. I'm too much of a coward to chose the latter so you know my choice.

YOU ARE READING
Black Sheep
Teen Fiction"You're the guy from my dreams!" I absentmindedly blurt out, instantly clamping my hand on my mouth as the realization hits me. "I'm the kinda guy every girl dreams about. Xavier Blaze, pleasure ", he extends his hand, a thick English accent coating...