Mr. Wrong?

Chapter 3

Unedited.

'You're mine Berkley Azalea Dylan.'

Tears leaked from my eyes as I remembered his words. I would probably never see Justin again. The van hit a bump and I flew my head hitting the ceiling, knocking me out cold.

•~*THREE HOURS EARLIER *~•

I parked next to Justin's car, combing my hair before I stepped out of the car.
I opened one of the double doors to hear the Drumline banging on shit again.

"Total douche bags." I muttered. They were good, but they were always cocky about it. I walked through the second at of double doors to hear a giggle. I turned to see Mary on her phone but mock glaring at me.

"Berkley Dylan, that's not very nice."

"Just because you're dating one doesn't mean I have to stop telling the truth."

I opened the door to see Drumline. I let out a sigh. I swear there had to be a 'hotness' requirement for them. They were the most attractive people in marching band, besides Justin, and Mary landed one.

He was the geekiest of all of them, and not as cute as the others, but they were a match made in Pokemon heaven.

I turned and saw Justin and Amy, my happiness dwindling a little as I realized she was staying for the night. Amy was Justin's best friend, since he was a freshman. She was nice to the people she liked, and trust me, when I first started marching band, I was only nice to her. But, best believe, she is a bitch, with a capital B.

I did nothing to her, the 'tragic' part, and it's her and her douche bag brother who made my life hell. And his stupid little cronies. They were all idiots, and obnoxious. One had already went to juvie, the others surely on their way.

I walked into the  'pantry' and grabbed my brass. It was beaten up, with too many scratches to count, but it was my baby for the next 3 years.

I grabbed sheet music and a stand and stood next to Justin.

"Hey Berk." He waved at me and I returned it with a smile. He went back to his conversation with Amy, and my smile faltered a bit. I knew he wasn't going to ignore Amy, but it did sting a little that he didn't try to continue a conversation with me.

Physically, he was OK. He had broad shoulders, and was tall and lean. During band camp, he rolled up his sleeves trying to tan but failed every time. He wasn't six feet, but he was a couple inches taller than me. He always gelled his hair, but the back part was shaved.

But the real reason I liked him were his eyes. His looks were a bonus, but as they say: the eyes are the windows to the soul. They were a regular blue, but when he was happy, they little up and were as blue as Oswald. His eyes were a big part of him, because they showed his every emotion. They animated every aspect of him, making it ten times better. But he barely ever made eye contact with me. So I only ever observed.

Being a Leo, he did everything with style and pizazz. And he was the craziest person I know, because he would do the weirdest things.

He had a whole album of band music (Symphonic winds) downloaded to his phone, he bought a party light for his car (which always smelled like vanilla). And taking his looks into account( no offense...well maybe a little). He wasn't you're 'overdose on axe spray' stereotypical guy.

Just being around him made me happy.

I thought of all this while watching him laugh and be stupid with Amy. One of the only one's he was only himself around.