Bad Meets Worse

2 | sharpies dry too quick

*Arin's POV*
I stared down at the semi-crumbled piece of paper in my hands, also known as my junior year schedule. The first class I have is Avd. Trig.

Yay, smart-ass me.

I know exactly where it is, so I head over there right away to not end up getting a bad seat.

Upon entrance to the classroom, I see that there's plenty of empty seats to choose from. I sit kind of in the center, since the front rows are taken up already. I get out my notebook and face the front again, my eyes only to be met with a pair of deep brown sparkling eyes. I get lost in them for a while, then I snap out of it, realizing who they belong to. The guy who every girl's gawking over, and every guy wishing they could be.

I was utterly surprised that he was in advanced trig, I mean this is a hard class, even for the smartest of students.

There are a few school sluts spread around the classroom, having empty seats next to them, waving for the new guy to come sit. I laugh to myself and return my attention to the slideshow being presented on the front screen.

The teacher hasn't arrived yet, and honestly I'm hoping she wouldn't.

I wasn't a nerd who loved math and all of the other school subjects, but I was really good at school, and was in all advanced classes, all of which I passed with ease.

I felt a presence next to me, and looked to my right, finding new boy setting his stuff down next to me. I sighed and rubbed my temples in annoyance.

I mean, out of all the empty seats, and all of the sluts, ready to spread their legs faster than you can say whore, he chose to sit right next to me, in the dead center.

Every girl in the classroom was staring daggers at me, and I didn't care much for it. The girls in this school are...

All bark, no bite.

Plus, they wouldn't come near me, seeing as I intimidated them somehow.

Okay.. So how do I get through this class without talking to the Fuckboy on my right?

"Do you have a pen? Or like a sharpie?" He asked me.

Guess that didn't work.

"Uh, yeah," I said digging through my bag to find a black sharpie. As I handed it over to him, he gently grabbed hold of my wrist and uncapped the pen with his teeth.

Well that was weirdly attractive.

Now what the hell was he doing?

He started writing numbers down on the inside of my wrist, and when finished, he let go of my arm and a smirk played up on his face.

"I'm Layton, Asher." He said confidently, wait no that was cockiness I mistook that for. "I expect you to use that," he winked at me, gesturing to the 10 digit number written on my forearm.

"I'm Arin, Schnell, and I expect that I won't need to," I sarcastically smiled, licking my thumb and trying to smear off the ink.

To my luck, the sharpie had already dried, and I gave out a sigh of defeat as I felt Layton laughing softly next to me.

"Now I must say, I thought that girls would look their hottest clothes off, but you do it better both ways," he smirks.

"Okay can you stop there, first of all I find guys that go to different schools at parties. You can't switch schools that's against the rules, go back to where you came from," I demanded.

"What rules?" He scoffed, looking fairly amused.

"My rules. And soon enough you'll realize that everyone knows what those are around here. I'm not some bitchy queen bee or anything, I just like my space, and right now, you are in it," I said and pushed his chest away with my finger.