MEAN

Part 4

Looking in the mirror I check every last detail. My make-up is flawless, pearl drop earrings adorn my ears, and the strapless floor length black dress fits perfectly. I tuck the invitation into my clutch and prepare for a night of fun and acceptance. My dorm room door flies open and my roommate bursts in loudly laughing with two trashy looking guys trailing behind her. I eye them all up and down and ask myself how in the hell I ended up in a room with trailer trash and then it slaps me in the damn face.

Fin Riley is in my room. Cocky, eye-fucker, car spitting, and grease monkey jackhole Fin Riley is in my dorm room. My eyes dart back to my roommate. Renee is an odd looking girl and every time I see her she looks different. For instance, one day she has bright pink hair and tons of make-up and then the next she has dark hair and no make-up. Her clothes morph from trashy to goth to urbane in a flash and her never-ending collection of Converse in every single color of the rainbow lines the wall on her side of the room like some art display. She has a huge poster of Eminem on her wall and tonight she's wearing a t-shirt that has some band named Avicii on it. Her silver Doc Martins are untied and her hair is all piled on top of her head in a messy knot. She's a train wreck.

"What's up Elizabeth? Hey, guys, this is my girl Liz. She's the rich chick roomie of mine I was telling you about."

Her girl? Um, no.

Both of the guys inspect me from head to toe and the stench that entered the room with them is threatening its way into my personal space. I wrinkle up my nose when Fin extends his hand to me.

"Sorry, no thanks. We've met. A handshake is not necessary."

He looks at me like he's not shocked at all by my refusal. His friend chimes in.

"Whoa, rich chick just dissed you, dude."

A dark crease forms between his eyes briefly and I can tell he doesn't like being made a fool of in front of this friend of his.

"Listen up rich girl I don't give a rats ass how much money you have or how hot you think you are. That shit does nothing for me. There's no shortage of hot, rich girls around here. Get over yourself blondie because you're a dime a dozen. I don't need to shake your hand. I was just trying to start off with a better introduction than what I did earlier today but hey, my bad."

His eyes scan me up and down a second time and then his eyes find mine. Anger is coursing through my veins and with every second he's in my space I get more and more infuriated with his existence. Who does he think he is to talk to me like this? The muscles in his neck flex and his gray eyes really make me mad because they are so damn beautiful. Why does this trashy guy have to have such pretty eyes? And despite his terrible choice in clothing it all fits him perfectly. Too perfectly. I have no idea why I even give a shit what he looks like or if anything about him is appealing. It irritates me that I'm analyzing any of this.

"Screw you asshole. Do you really assume I care at all about what you think of me? Look at you," I gesture towards his hideous attire. "You dress like a homeless person and I'm pretty sure you haven't showered in days. You're obviously deluded into thinking your opinion matters to me when it clearly doesn't and never will."

Renee throws up her hands and says laughing, "I'm out of this one. Fin we'll meet you outside when you're done sparing with my roommate. Don't be too hard on her, she's not like us."

Anger pools in his leaden cloudy eyes and for a millisecond, I can see my words stung somewhat. He steps in closer to me and whisper-quiet says, "Butterscotch, you're so transparent it's actually comical. You're attracted to me and you know it. In fact, you're probably turned on right now. It really pisses you the fuck off that you're attracted to a guy who isn't all ironed out and smooth around the edges aren't you?"

He leans in even further and I can feel the warm hint of his breath on my face. The smell of nicotine attacks my nose and for some reason, my feet are cemented to the damn floor.

"Don't you worry your pretty little rich girl self because I wouldn't taint you if you begged for it."

That does it.

I raise my hand and slap the shit out of him. The skin on my palm tingles in response and his reaction is the complete opposite of what I was looking for. He reaches up and rubs at his cheek with an arrogant smirk on his face.

"I'm going to give you that one, Butterscotch, but don't expect me to let it go next time."

The steadiness of his voice surprises me considering I just slapped the hell out of him. It didn't even faze him. This guy is a real piece of work and I hate him for more reasons than days I've even known him.

"Stop calling me that," I mutter, with zero self-assurance in my words. He reaches out and flips a strand of my hair between his fingers.

"Then don't have hair that's the color of my favorite candy."

Dear Jesus, did he just call me his favorite candy?

He turns towards the door and just before turning the knob he looks back at me.

"Have fun, Butterscotch. It looks like you're off for some exciting fun in that get-up you're in. Nothing like a stiff uptight sorority function to get you going."

"Fuck you asshole," I yell as the door closes.