Hooded Beauty

Chapter 18 (part 1)

I was sleepy, grumpy, and trudging  on my way to the cafeteria when Nick appeared to be on his way to the opposite direction, seemingly passing by me.

That was until his hand grabbed my forearm and I was yanked by his force of pull.

"Let go of me!" I stood my ground so that his attempts of moving me would fail misrably. But he as stronger and more built, so I ended up being dragged across the hallway, my feet sliding across the ground.

"Nick!" I cried.

He wasn't listening, so I started shouting obscenities at him, "You overgrown dysfunctional skunk! You psychotic dickface!" He remained ignoring me as he dragged me to god knows where, "You pompous bastard! You kinky douchebag! You-"

 My attempts were futile enough as they were, but they stopped at the same time he let go of my arm - the moment I found myself in the empty school library.

I blanked before speaking, "If you plan on raping me, I'll have you know: I took a self defense class once and I can amputate your dick." I lied, narrowing my eyes and taking a cautious step back.

"Funny." He deadpanned, "Now go get a book on France and let's get this thing over with." He walked over to a table with a bored expression on his face, lifting his feet up, placing them on my supposed chair, and taking out his phone.

Doing the project during school breaks was actually... genius. It was the only time when I was actually available! But there was no way I would've possibly told him that. Unfortunately, my lack of sleep was getting the best of me and there was no way I could concentrate with my eyes involuntarily drooping every minute.

I went over and tossed my backpack on top of his feet (earning a glare from Mr.Deranged), then took a seat at another table and lay my head on it, nestling my face into the warmth of my arms as drowsiness overwhelmed me.

"Seriously?!" I heard Nick's cry of exasperation a table away.

I suppressed my mirth and tried going back to my previous state, but the tiny punches I was receiving kept me alert the second I felt a whack to the head by a small object. Ignoring it was easy, but when I felt annoying strikes to the head by heavier objects, my head snapped up in irritation.

"Stop that!" I scolded.

When I looked down, I saw an eraser, a pen, a marker, a stack of post-it notes, and a miniature stapler. My eyes widened at the stapler and I stared at laughing Nick in shock. He was still in the same seat a few yards away, with his feet still up my supposed chair. The only difference he made with his previous state was the glooming smug look on his face.

"Next time, just do what I say," He smirked.

"You threw a stapler at me?!" I asked, bewildered.

"I was hoping it would staple your head in the process," he laid back in his seat.

"You jerk!"

"Bitch"

"Douchebag!"

"Whore!"

"Bastard!"

"Slut!"

"Pistachio!"

"Hook-" Nick paused, raising an eyebrow; an act  that I was so famously jealous of. "Pistachio?"

"Yeah! You're so cooped up in that shell of yours, doing whatever you want that you don't even care about what happens to the people around you!" I yelled, "Or how it might affect them!"

"Woah! What did I do?!" He raised his arms in defense.

"Stop pretending like you don't know what you did!"