Grey

Chapter One

     “Hey!” I yelled after Grey, storming out of the party. The ground vibrated beneath my feet that were stomping on the cold ground. I was panting from chasing him around the house, my breath visible in the February air. When we were alone anything could happen; things could get very ugly. There wasn’t a soul outside right now and I knew this was going to end in a fight.

     Grey’s back was facing me as he walked away, his plain white tee and dark wash jeans barely visible in the dull moonlight. His hands were stuffed in his pocket as he slouched over. I could see his perfectly sculpted face in my mind: dark eyes, smug look, teeth clenched. It was scary how much I knew him.

     “Grey! Look at me! Look at me when I’m talking to you!” I yelled, pointing at him. I knew he couldn’t see me. Groaning, I jogged up to him and stepped in front of him. I looked up to see his face but he was looking at the ground.

     “Move,” he demanded with his voice tight and rough. Still panting I shook my head, unsure if he could see it. He didn’t control me.

      “No. Not until you talk to me,” I said, putting on a brave face even though I was nervous about where this was going. His hair fell in his eyes as his chest rose and fell steadily. He wasn’t breathing like he was angry; his fists weren’t clenched in his pockets. So why did he leave like that if he wasn’t angry? “Grey, what’s wrong?”

      He looked at me and practically laughed, but I could see the sadness and frustration in his eyes. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing lightly. He finally spoke. “What’s there to talk about?” he asked.

      I nearly rolled my eyes. “How about the way you just walked out of there? What was that all about?”

      Grey chuckled, flicking his brown hair from his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you?” His expression suddenly went from blank to mischievous and threatening. I still wasn’t scared, though. I knew how to handle Grey. Right? I could do this.

       “Obviously not, Grey. Enlighten me,” I replied, sarcasm dripping with every word. I hated these stupid games he played with me. He was never straight forward. He always held back, making me ache and beg for an answer.

        Grey took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms as he stared me down. Chill bumps formed on his biceps. Looking up at him, I stood my ground and lifted my chin in bravery. “I saw you talk to him, Violet,” he explained, anger in his eyes.

        “Who? James? God, Grey, I can’t believe you!” I spat, my voice raising. Our breath was showing in the air, his a lot more than mine. I was working him up, making him angry. Good.

        He shook his head. “You still don’t get it,” he sighed, turning around. Grey locked his hands behind his head, making his shirt rise up the slightest bit as he walked a few feet away from me. He always did this before he snapped. I counted in my head. Three…two…one…he turned back around to face me. “Why did you talk to him?”

     I scoffed. “Wait, let me get this straight. You can kiss girls, flirt with them, dance with them, fuck them, but the moment, the moment I talk to a classmate, you freak out? Yeah, that makes a lot of sense,” I sneer, walking a tad bit closer to him. I wrapped my arms around myself as a cold wind hit me.

     He pointed at me. “That’s different Violet and you know it,” he fumed.

     I threw my arms up in the air. “How?! How is it different, Grey?!”

     Grey opened his mouth to say something smart back, but he closed it quickly and shook his head once again.  “You never answered my question,” he pointed out.