Philophobia | e.d + g.d

Chapter 2

Cassidy's POV

I was still mad about the 'tour' I had to have. I was perfectly fine! Okay I wasn't.

But still.

I was standing next to the cafeteria door, people rushing in and out of it. I took the time now to consider what I was wearing.

Black ripped jeans. A white cropped top. And a baggy, grey jumper. Which was inside out. I quickly removed it and turned it the right way around, but when I was in the middle of putting it back on again, I heard a deep voice in front of me.

"So you're the new girl?"

I pushed my head through the jumper to reveal a tall and extremely hot guy in front of me. I stared at his holy jawline which framed his face, and the way his shirt wrapped around his bulging biceps.

"No shit," I said sarcastically, flinging my bag over my shoulder. He smirked at me a little, the corner of his mouth sneaking up.

"So there's the cafeteria," he pointed over to the blue door that I was leaning next to, and I just rolled my eyes at him, making him chuckle and shake his head slightly.

"Okay, so let's get this done and over with!" I cried, walking down the hallway. But he yanked me back by my wrist and brought me close to him. It startled me, how sudden and quick it was, and people were starting to stare.

"Are you going to do the tour for me?" he whispered, his mint breath tickling my face. His voice was so deep and serious, and I widened my eyes. But then he started laughing.

Bitch.

"Oh shut up," I shoved him lightly to the side, but when I turned around I smiled.

••••

"So next you have..." he grabbed my time table from my hand and stared at it: "Hey you clever bitch, you have all the top classes!" I smirked at him, wiggling my eyebrows.

He laughed cutely, giving back my timetable. We had been talking about the most random things, and something about the way that he talked to me told me he didn't talk to many girls like this.

Throughout the whole 'tour' that he gave me, people (especially girls) around the halls started whispering "fucking bitch" behind my back but I didn't care.

"You have Maths now, but after lunch you have history with me," he lead me to my Maths class room, and stopped just outside the door.

He just stared at me while I looked around uncomfortably. What do I do now?

"Thanks, bro," I punched his shoulder playfully and turned around to walk into the classroom, but he held me back, pulling me around again.

"Hey uh," he stumbles, scratching the back of his neck. He looked so nervous but I didn't know why. "You want to sit with me at lunch later? You'll find me easily," he suggested.

I thought about this for a moment. "I'll see," I blurted and slid through the yellow door. My mind was whirling with ideas of Ethan and I sitting in the cafeteria, his arm around my shoulders and him laughing with me.

They all burst and disappeared when my teacher abruptly came into the classroom, slammed the door and waved us off as a sign of acknowledgement.

"Class," he nodded, "In your textbooks, page 36, exercise 5. Catherine?" I looked up at him, correcting him.

"It's uh, Cassidy-" I started.

"Come here for your textbook," he interrupted, beckoning me over, his eyebrows furrowed and angry. He was about 50 years old, and he eyed me cautiously. He handed me a red textbook and I sat back down.