I regret nothing!
*Current song playing while writing this - High School Never Ends -> Bowling for Soup*
***Eli's P.o.V***
"Eli Tucker and Derek Armani."
I have to have my puny brain repeat that sentence at least a hundred times before it sinks it. Once more, my breath has grown shallow and I can't help but feel a slight twist in my stomach. Why me? Out of the whole class. She probably did this on purpose. Maybe it's because I'm Acing the class and Derek is flunking. That should be illegal. Boys shouldn't be with boys. For projects...yeah, for projects. "You may meet up with your partner." She tells us after having spent a good 'ol fifteen minutes explaining the project. It has to do with re-creating a vegetable cell or an animal cell. Personally, I want to re-create the vegetable cell, hopefully Derek won't disagree with me. When everyone gets up and makes their way over to their assigned partners, I, on the other hand, stay in my seat and glance back at where Derek should be and my stomach drops when I see he isn't there. Is he going to make me do the entire project by myself? What a jerk! Ugh! Pissed off, I turn my head around sharply and I let out a small yelp when I see Derek standing right in front of me. "Jesus Christ!" I hiss, shooting him a glare. His response is only a smirk that's always had a way of making me want to do one of two things; slap it right off of his face, or kiss it away. At the thought of kissing Derek, I feel my cheeks turn a bright pink and he dumps his toned buttock right beside me. "Thanks, but my name's Derek." He replies, his voice in every way serious but I can't help but find what he says funny - so I laugh. It's not loud, it's not quiet, it's just a laugh that makes some of the uneasiness dissipate along with my warm face.
And that's when everything goes downhill. Immediately, he begins his bargain I've heard him play with every girl. "Listen, here's how it goes," He begins, one of his arms are rsting on the end of the chair and even sitting, he's taller than me. "You do the project, and I won't deal with you after school, understood?" He asks, his voice clear and husky. I can't help but think what kind of 'dealing with' he does after school. OKay. No. No. I can't afford to think like that. I have Amelia, I have my parents to live up to, this entire school is counting on me to win the championship at the basket-ball game and the soccer one. I'm a role model. Role models can't be what I want to be. What I am to be. It just doesn't work that way. But nevertheless, if there's one thing I'm not, it's passive. I'm not letting him push me around. "Um, no." My own response is clear cut dry and I take the papers Mrs. Smith is handing out and begin reading the criterias. "Mind saying that again?" His voice sends chills down my spine - not the good kind. It's a threat. A test. Hell, I don't if it's my male hormones, but now I'm feeling a little angered by him. "I said no, now what kind of cell do you want to do?" I try switching the subject and surprisingly, it works. His look softens a little and I see his hand slowly raise, in gesture that he has a question for the teacher. Within moments, she's over and her expresion shows surprise. I don't blame her, Derek never speaks in his classroom and if it is, it's to make a rude comment or something sexist or whatever. "Can Tucker and I work in the hallway? I'm getting a headache from hearing your voice." He tells her and I can see the anger bubbling inside of her, the offense and even a little bit of hurt. When she glances at me, I can't help but feel a little responsible; I give her an apologetic look and a small, sympathetic smile. "Go." Is all she says and immediately, Derek is one his feet and heading out the door. But before he's too far out of my hearing range, he pauses and turns his head a little, "Don't keep me waiting, pretty boy." He says to me and I rush to my feet, scramble to get my stuff and scamper after him, tumbling a little.
We walk in down the hallway, and for some reason, I have a good feeling about this; I mean, he hadn't put up much of a fight when I stood my ground. I guess he's more bark than bite. I realise that we've been walking for some time and I grow a little confused. "Hey, shouldn't we star-" The breath is cut from my lungs when a sharp pain jabs in my stomach and without a chance to reclaim myself, a strong hand has hold of my shirt and I'm slammed against the lockers, another shot of pain. When my sight of vision stops blurring, I see that it's Derek who has me like this. I can feel his breath, hot against my face, the faint taste of mint toothpaste. If it weren't for these circumstances, I would have gotten myself caught up in the moment. How his eyes flare with intense emotions, but have a little bit of shock I'm sure he's trying to hide. His lips are parted, just a little, just enough that if I lean in the about an inch or two, they would be fused perfectly. God, why am I thinking of this? He's got me at shirt's end, for crying out loud. "Are you listening to me, you twat?!" He hisses, his voice as deadly as it is sexy. God. I think this is the closest I've been to another guy. It only encrusts who I am. It's so clear. It's torture. This isn't fair. "No." I manage and a growl escapes the depths of his throats.
"I said you're going to do the fucking project." He tells me before pinning me harder against the hard edged metal rectangles. "Why?" I inquire roughly, ignoring how his British accent seems to be adding more to my want for men. More precisely, him. When I see that damn smirk of his, I can't help but notice the slight change. As if he knows he's won. It's cocky. It's aggravating. It's addictive. But his next words make my blood run cold.
"Because I know your secret."
DUN DUN DUNNNNN!!! >8]
