The bell rings for first period. I speed walk through the tiled halls from my locker, my best friend, Melody, trailing behind me like a lost puppy.
"Can you *huff* slow down?!" Melody clutches at my arm as her heels clack against the tile. I give her a look.
"Bitch not all of us can be the captain of the soccer team!" she says, looking mildly offended at my judgement.
I roll my eyes. I don't think walking fast in the hallway is a skill, it's more like a necessity.
"You know I need to get to class early and finish studying for the English test. I didn't have time to study as much as I wanted to, and he's handing out our tests from last week at the beginning of class.." I fidget with the strap of my cross-body satchel.
Melody looks me up and down and raises an eyebrow.
"Oh I get it, your worried about Val!"
As soon as those words leave her mouth I feel a sinking-pit-like feeling in my stomach. I clamp my hand over her mouth. She bites and I remove my hand.
"I am not WORRIED about that fucking insufferable bastard. The word "worried" implies that I have something to worry about. And I'm decidedly not worried about Valentine or anything he does."
Melody's eyes widen as I hear a disgustingly familiar chuckle behind us.
"Huh. 'Insufferable bastard'. That's a new one Genevieve. I have to say, this makes the top ten of the things you've called me,"
Slimy motherfucker
"...And you really should be worried, about the test, I mean. It seems your time management skills are...slipping.."
Valentine smirks as he walks in front of me and turns to face me, blocking the entrance to our classroom. I glare at him, holding eye contact ragefuly.
"Move, Valentine." I grit out, looking up at him, refusing to acknowledge his insults.
"Say 'pretty please' and maybe I'll let you through."
He leans against the doorway, his coppery hair falling in his eyes.
"Fuck you." I demure, batting my eyelashes.
He grins as he looks me up and down as I glare up at him as I watch his brown eyes linger on my face.
Is he..checking me out?
Gross.
"You know if you weren't so obsessed with beating me, maybe you would have time to put yourself together in the mornings." He touches a loose strand of my hair from my bun. My heart stutters from the contact.
I turn red. How does he know exactly what to say to hurt me? I am, admittedly, having a bad hair day but it's Valentines talent of perceiving all of my faults that make his words stab like a knife.
I stare at him in fury searching for an insult.
"Your tie is done wrong. Still whoring yourself out in the janitors closet, I see?"
I school my face into something like a mask, hopefully hiding how much he gets to me.
He smirks, my words running off him like oil on water.
"Not my fault I'm constantly in demand. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you Genevieve?"
His face twists into a devilish smile as he adjusts his tie and licks his lips and heads into the classroom as the bell rings.
YOU ARE READING
Fine Line (revamp)
Romance"Not all of us can be good like you Genevieve." She bristles at this. "I'm not good." I scoff. "You are perfect. And I hate it." Genevieve Beckham has always been at the top of her class. She makes perfect grades and is captain of the girls soccer t...
