Naomi.
Allen.
I can't get him out off my head. I know that's his plan. He's toying with my mind. Fooling with my emotions. Tearing me away from my actual goal in this school.
Prick!
I should be putting all my energy into my studies not boys with silly grudges against their teachers. Father will not condone my actions. If I get in trouble, he'd practically have my head.
I'm still preety pissed by the time the bell goes for lunch. Everyone is up and out the door before the teacher can eject his flashdrive from the laptop. Only a few people still linger on the hallway and at the back of the class.
Save my short conversation with the headgirl and the teachers, Allen is the only person i'v spoken to since I got here. Hell! I don't even know my bunkmates name!
I'll make friends eventually. Good friends that would help me with my studies. Not brain draining đĩcks like that boy.
I commence my steady walk out of the class not wanting to draw any attention to myself because i'm still a newbie and according to movies, Fishes are not always highly welcomed. TV Never lies.
"Hey you." It's not an angry yell. More like a polite greeting.
I turn around and once again, my eyes connect with the beady black ones of Allen. The mysterious paint boy. King of dick dynasty. My 'friend'?
Prick!
He's accompanied by two other people. A boy and a girl that I guess should be in our class.
"I didn't quite catch your name." He says.
"It's Naomi." I mutter.
"This is Kadesh," he points to the boy and then to the girl, "and this is Onyi."
Why is he introducing his friends to me?
I mean, I don't even know his name. I never heard it from his mouth so i'll say I don't know it.
"Can I talk to you for a sec?" I whisper to Allen.
He nods and follows me to the other end of the emptying hallway.
"What game are you playing?" I ask poking his really hard chest.
"No game. You seem a little tensed, yes?" His calm demeanor sort of amazed me.
"I don't know you and you don't know me. We have Nothing in common." I say from between gritted teeth.
"We do share a love for paint traps." He states with an annoying smirk.
"That smirk wouldn't be on your pretty face when I punch you." I snarl.
"I like girls that bite. You have alot of bite cucciola," he leans in dangerously close, "I admire that."
My throat instantly goes dry.
"Prick." I manage to squeak out.
He lets out a low chuckle and I can't help but watch his chest jerk as he laughs. "You have a strange way with words. Who gave you the dirty dictionary?" He asks.
True. I'v been on lock down all my life but I hear my father when he uses all those words. Him and the whores he brings in sometimes.
I took me some time to realize Pussy wasn't only the Pre-K name for alley cat.
"What's your name?" I ask finally calming down.
A small smile plays on his lips. "People call me Bible Boy but you, who do you say I am?"
"I say you're a dickhead. Who d'you think you are, Jesus Christ!?" I rant. "I read the bible too y'know."
He gives me a mock clap and exclaims. "Then you have no problem."
"I don't get."
"'O my God, I am ashamed and blush to lift my face to thee.'" He recites then leans in again, more dangerously than the last time. "D'you often find me intimidating, Naomi?" His voice had dropped to a low, sultry growl that makes my stomach do a wierd backflip as I watch his pink lips move. "What's going on in that preety mind of yours? Why are you blushing?"
My back presses hard against the wall and I know i'm done for. Trapped in the lions den. His dark eyes seemed to be gazing into my very soul. They're darker than usual now. Like the frozen waters of a dark icy ocean.
His lips are hovering above mine now, he's so close I can smell the spicy citrus scent of his deodorant coupled with unidentified boyish smells that don't have any trouble intoxicating me.
"Tell me my name." He whispers.
"I don't know." I wimper. God! Those eyes.
"Sure you do." He says.
"I can't think straight when all I want is your lips on mine." I say. But only in my head so that no one else can hear it but me.
I search my mind for a suitable answer because I have a strange feeling a buzzer would go off some where if I say Allen.
O my God, I am ashamed and blush to lift my face to thee...
Wait a second...
"Ezra." I whisper. "Your name is Ezra."
He backs away, a sexy one sided grin on his perfect face. He won and he knows it.
"Way to go chiquita. You got it right. Ezra 9:6." He claps slowly.
I don't move and I can't even look at him. He's just a big distraction. A hot one but still a distraction. I can't help but beat myself up internally. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
"I'll be seeing you around chiquita. Lets say 12:30am for another artistic experiment?"
It takes me some time to process that. Another paint attack. In the middle of the night.
When I look up to reply, Ezra winks at me and walks away, leaving me alone in the empty hallways.
I don't think lunch would sit well in my stomach.
Proverbs 10:10- He who winks the eye causes trouble...
***
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-Nickki28.
