✔︎ | Part of Me (Trilogy)

5 | bad boy, really?

5 | bad boy, really? 

t a s h a  t h o r n t o n 

I pull my blonde curly hair up into a half ponytail, taking my time to walk through the school hallways in my phys ed clothes. I am in absolutely no rush to get down to the soccer field. Training for soccer is such a strenuous activity, and Axel makes it 100% less enjoyable — although I haven't even been able to kick a ball or block the net yet.

Why couldn't he be teaching the badminton or yoga unit instead?

"Aviana!" I hear a voice call after me.

I turn before shoving open the doors to the lower soccer field. "Mrs. Awr?"

"No classes?" She asks, jogging up to me. She smooths down her dark hair. "Wanna help me grade freshman papers?"

"Honestly, I'd do anything to avoid catching up in phys ed," I chuckle. "Can I?"

She sighs. "Sadly I was just joking. Although I'd appreciate it. I can talk to the principle and see if I can get you to do some editing sometime? I have all of my students hand in rough copies before the due date to help with any grammatical errors. You could get bonus marks?"

I nod. "I'm good at English, so if that's possible, I'd love to do it."

"Perfect!" She smiles. "So who are you trying to avoid in phys ed?"

I shake my head, blushing. "No one, I'm just not a fan of the class."

Mrs. Awr raises her brows and chuckles. "It's that Axel kid, isn't it? He's your student teacher?"

"How does a person like him become a student teacher!" I burst out, throwing my hands up in wonder.

Mrs. Awr laughs. "He really isn't as bad as he'd like you to think. But if you do have problems with him, talk to someone. You can come to me if you want."

I nod. "Thanks," I say, "I should go."

"See you tomorrow," she yells after me as I jog out of the doors. I've never had such a nice teacher. Maybe this school will be a good thing for me.

I run down the grassy hill to the soccer field. Axel is waiting there impatiently in his activewear, his muscles showing through his tight, blue, Nike shirt like he's actually a professional —

A professional douchebag perhaps.

He notices me jogging towards him, and I swear he rolls his eyes. He bounces the bright, yellow soccer ball a few times on his knee and kicks it in my direction. I lose focus on the ball watching Axel so effortlessly move it in the air that I scream when the neon object flies straight for my face. I cover my head and chest and the ball crashes into the back of my arms.

"Ouch!" I yelp angrily. I look down at my arms, scowling at the big red patches forming on them. They sting so much, I suspect Axel wasn't kicking the ball to me, he was trying to hit me. I pick up the ball and hold it to my chest.