Sweetheart || BBANGSAZ

7. Kiss From A Dark Angel

"I wonder if I'll see him at school," I said as we walked, the sun beatin' down on us. I had on my denim shorts and a jersey, feelin' the warmth through the fabric.

"He won't," Kim muttered.

"Won't what?" I asked, adjustin' the straps on my backpack.

"If he knows what's good for him, he'll never show his face in this town again," she said, her tone cold. I nodded, gettin' the message loud and clear.

As my school came into view, I brushed the hair outta my eyes. "Well, this is me," I said, tryin' to sound casual.

"Uh, have a good day," Kim mumbled, lookin' a bit outta place.

I laughed, shakin' my head. "I'll pretend you didn't say that," I replied before turnin' my back and headin' into school, hands shoved in my pockets. The hallways were loud, filled with the usual chatter of girls and guys.

I made my way to my locker, openin' it up to grab my AP Calculus book. When I'm not at the bar, I'm studyin', keepin' my smarts up. As I shut my locker, I flinched, seein' someone standin' too close. "Jesus!" I exclaimed.

"Hey," Donnie said casually.

"Donnie, what the hell are you doin' here?" I snapped, not expectin' to see him.

"I'm here to keep an eye on you. Kim's orders," he said, his tone flat.

I looked around, feelin' annoyed. "Seriously? I don't need protectin'," I argued.

He just shrugged. "Well, that's not my call to make. I've been given a job, so I'mma do it," he said firmly.

The bell rang, and I rolled my eyes, startin' to walk. He fell into step beside me.

"Besides, I never finished high school," he added, like that explained everything.

-

In class, I slid into my usual seat near the front, pulling out my notebook and pen, ready to take on AP Calculus. Donnie, on the other hand, plopped down in the back, slouching like he owned the place. I could already tell he wasn't planning on takin' any of this seriously.

Mr. Smith, our teacher, walked in with his usual stern expression, shuttin' the door behind him with a thud. He glanced around the room, his eyes narrowin' when they landed on Donnie.

"Alright, class, let's dive into derivatives," Mr. Smith said, writing on the board.

As he turned to explain the formula, I caught Donnie outta the corner of my eye, foldin' a paper airplane. He flicked it across the room, and it landed square on some girl's desk. She giggled, turnin' around to flash him a flirty smile.

"Donnie," Mr. Smith barked, "you got somethin' to share with the class?"

Donnie grinned, leanin' back in his chair. "Just tryin' to make things fly, Mr. Smith," he said, his voice oozin' with fake innocence.

The girl he'd thrown the airplane to winked at him, clearly more interested in his antics than calculus. "You're such a bad boy," she whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Mr. Smith's face turned red as he glared at Donnie. "This is not a playground. If you don't want to be here, the door's right there," he snapped, pointin' to the exit.

Donnie just shrugged, unbothered, while the rest of the class started to snicker. I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath, shakin' my head at the whole scene. The girl next to Donnie kept givin' him googly eyes, and he just soaked it all up like a sponge.

Mr. Smith caught my laugh and shot me a sharp look, but I quickly buried my face in my notes, pretendin' to focus. I was clearly smarter than Donnie, and Mr. Smith knew it, but that didn't stop him from lumpin' me in with the rest of the mess.