𝐎𝐡, 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐡è

Chapter Three: Walking Clichè

Scanning the hallway, I pretend to know where the hell I'm going but it's no use. I'm still pretty fresh around here so I'm clueless in where I'm going. Thankfully, I manage to know where my classes are at least but the lunch cafeteria doesn't help my case. I guess I have to follow the crowd for the first time. As you guessed, I'm not like other girls.

As I clutch my bag to my back, my heels click against the floor and I strut proudly down the hall where majority of students are headed to. Lunch was something I enjoyed. I loved food and interacting with people because why not? Why should I be like the goody-two-shoes who always has her nose stuck in a book? Yeah, no thank you.

"Hey baby," Alex greets me and slings his arm around my shoulder. However, I don't do men like him. I do older men for sure. More civilised and smarter but it's hard to come across someone like that. I roll my eyes fustrately and I was on the stage of slapping him. Who does he think he is?

"As if!" I exclaim. I push his arm off me and I finally felt free, yet, dirty with his touch. My lips form in a tight line, one that I don't like showing because I prefer smiling. Always smile even if you're hurting inside, I say. My eyes remain glued onto Alex as I make sure he's far away from my body.

However, to my dashing luck, I bump into someone's hard chest and I fall flat onto my ass. Well, isn't this great? I feel like a damn character in a wattpad book. What next? I meet the schools bad boy?

I groan in pain, the impact on my ass completely catching me off guard and look up. Hot is an understatement, more like a freaking handsome and dashing dark Prince. Okay, okay, I'm looking into too much stories and fairytales. Do I really think I'll get that? Hah, in my wildest dreams.

"Watch where you're going, blondie," he snarls, his deep and raspy voice echoing through my ears and I gaze into his pale green eyes. He pushes his curly jet-black hair away from his face and he then extends his hand for me to grab. I happily accept and rise from this disgusting floor. "That's the last time I'll be helping you. I mean it, watch where you're going next time, blondie," he seethes as he bares his pearly whites.

Snapping out of my trance, I eye him. "Hey, hey, hey, that's no way to speak to a lady," I argue as I cross my arms across my chest. For a man with such good looks, I shouldn't of gotten my hopes up with his attitude.

He snickers. "Lady? I thought a lady would know how to walk," he says as he brushes his thick curls from his faces frame once again and sighs in complete irritation. Is he serious right now?

"I do know how to walk, you idiot. Maybe if you listened instead of assumed you would've understood why I bumped into you!" I exclaim and roll my eyes. How stupid could one be? Why did he annoy me so much?

"Whatever you say, blondie," he smirks and I silence him with the flick of my wrist.

"I don't have time to talk to people like you," I say, trying to end our conversation but he didn't budge. He held his ground.

"People like me? You need to get off your high horse, your Highness before you end up six feet under instead," he argued and I roll my eyes. Who did he think he is talking to me like that? Even though he has the gorgeous looks, his attitude isn't helping whatsoever.

"What a gentleman," I mutter. I strut past him but not before I slam into his shoulder. Hopefully that left some kind of impact of our interaction. What a complete idiot. What kind of person would even think about him or date that kind of man?

♡♡♡

"I just cannot believe what that guy did! I understand I'm blonde but he kept throwing it at me like an insult. Even though he's so fine, what kind of attitude does that man have? He needs to get himself fixed, for f*ck sakes!" I rant, the burning passion flooding my veins.

Jennifer sits right in front of me and listens intensively to me rant about the encounter between the mystery man and myself. She would occasionally add some comments and nod in response and I realised she's starting to warm up to me. She's a good friend so far.

"Who's this mystery man anyways?" She asks as she places her hand under her chin.

"I didn't have catch his name, but why would I anyways? He's dead to me but I don't even know why I'm constantly ranting about him!" I exclaim, fuming at the fact that he's constantly on my mind. What kind of idiot is he and why am I thinking of that idiot?

"By the sounds of it, he sounds very alive to you," she laughs and I roll my eyes. However, I crack a small smile. Only a small one because I don't want her to think I'm starting to actually like her as a friend. She's just my minion and will only be my little minion.

"As if! He's very much dead to me. I don't even want to stare into those dreamy eyes of his- wait that's him!" I whisper-shout and try to point at him with my eyes. I didn't want to make it obvious so the best I could do was do this.

Jennifer's eyes widen slightly. "Wait, that's Ryder Carter, the Principals' son. Girl, you really know how to pick your men," she says, cracking a large smile and I shake my head. No way he's Ryan's son, I just refuse to believe that. But if that's the case, that means I practically threatened his father. Oh well, what can I say?

"Ryan's son, huh?" I say and she furrows her eyebrows together. "I mean Mr Carters' son. I can see the resemblance abit," I continue as I tap my manicured finger against my chin.

"But be careful. Even though he's hot, he's also the schools bad boy. You know, the type to get in fights, threaten teachers and bully you," she explains and I nod slowly. The schools bad boy, huh? So I was right when I walked right into a clichè.

"Schools bad boy, huh? I don't know but something about them just draws me in," I sarcastically add and her eyes widen, head shaking in denial.

"No, you're basically walking into heartbreak. But I mean, he's the kind to not even date. He's closed off, basically loves to be by himself," she continues and I wonder. The schools bad boy, I see. He definitely has some type of story, right? I mean, what clichè of a story doesn't have some sob story to come along for the ride?

"Oh, I see. He definitely stands out of the crowd," I mumble as I see him sitting by himself on an empty table. He's playing with a knife and surprisingly he didn't get caught. However, within moments, he looks up from his knife and meets my eyes. And as you guessed it, what kind of story doesn't have some kind of breath hitching in her throat? Well, that's what happened to me. The oxygen flies from my lungs and I'm left breathless, like literally.

He really has that kind of impact.

(Hey lovelies! What did you think of this chapter? Please consider voting and commenting! Hope you had a great day/night!)

~Love, Natalie