The Boxer and the Blogger

Chapter One: Mondays are a Bitch

Chapter One: Mondays are a Bitch

Grayson’s POV

“Ah, high school. The sweet smell of tears, makeup products, sweat and...” I sniffed “...drugs? Eh, not surprised.” I made my way to the office that was housing the top dog, head honcho, speaker of the house or as I like to call him, Jimmy. Yes, I'm on first name basis with the principal and he's not so fond of it, but who cares? Certainly not me.

I swung a pair of heavy glass doors that read Jimmy B. Knowles on an engraved plaque. Between you and me no one knows what the B stands for except for me. I had to do some digging, well more like beating the shit out of someone, but I found out it was Bertha. Jimmy fucking Bertha! Who the hell names a man's middle name Bertha!

I entered through the pair of doors without waiting to be called in, and took my seat. Yes, my own personal seat in front of Jimmy's desk. I bet that tells you how frequently I visit the front office.

I let my bag drop to the floor and I lifted my feet on his desk. "Jimmy, how goes it?"

He sighed and ran a couple of fingers through his taupe. "You got a call." He looked pointedly at me. "Fifth one today, demanding that you leave the school immediately. " he raised his eyebrows. “I tried to ignore it, but the person keeps calling persistently. And to be frankly honest, it’s getting  quite annoying.”

To be honest, Jimmy, you're voice is getting quite annoying. I frowned and fished my phone out of my pocket. Seven missed calls all from an unknown number. Crap, why didn’t this little shit call me in here earlier! I zipped my backpack up and flung it over my back. "Jimmy, I believe this little chat is over."

Jimmy stood up knocking his lame ‘Best Principal’ award, no doubt made by himself, down on the floor. “Grayson, you can't leave without permission! You need to attend all of your classes!" He screeched trying to sound authoritative, but failing miserably.

I held onto my backpack straps, gripping them tightly in my hands, as not to reach out and punch him in the chest. "I don’t need those fucking classes, where teachers ramble on and on about crap they don’t know two shits about! I’m damn smarter then you will ever be, so listen here Jimmy Bertha! I'm going to walk out of this room, scratch that, out of this school without any interference from you or the staff, got that?" I growled out. "Unless you want the school to know about your little fling with the secretary, I suggest you keep your trap shut!"

He paled and his taupe slipped slightly to the right, revealing his shiny balding head. "H-how!" He whispered out, looking at me like I was going to go all ninja on him at any moment or something, which wasn’t that far from the truth.

"Like I said, I'm going to have to cut this conversation short." I snapped and he nodded tersely. That was too damn close. I almost lost it and got carried away.

I all but ran out of the building, without any interruptions from anyone. I was in a hurry to get to the gym, and I’ll let you know I was damn close too, if I had seen the black truck pull up. If they hadn't gotten in my way. Dammit!

Tatum’s POV

Mondays are a bitch. And it’s not because I’m being thrown into a crowd of raging teenage hormones gossiping about how the mysterious Grayson Marcs got the numerous cuts and bruises that covered his perfectly sculpted face. Nope, it’s because every Monday I’m greeted with the school’s Wi-Fi, which is literally crap, and my blog is deprived of viewers.

No matter how juicy the information is that I post on my blog, it stays stagnant at ten viewers. Ten viewers!  How pathetic is that?! I pushed my way through the crowd, with a scowl permanently etched onto my face. The locker next to mine was overflowing with girls, who were dishing out the latest info.

“Did you see his face?” I slowly grabbed my textbook for first period English.

“Yeah, but the bruises make him look even more rugged and hot!”

“I know right! Grayson is a total loner, but he's hotter than—!”

As soon as I heard Grayson’s name, I tuned out. People have time to listen to pointless gossip, but they don’t have time to click on my blog?! Nothing’s good about Grayson anyways. He’s the loner who I heard was in a gang, and beat up an innocent cat-lady because she accidently bumped into him. Sounds true enough.  I huffed and stormed off to a boring English lecture.

*****

By the time lunch rolled around all that anyone was talking about was Grayson Marcs, and it was irritating. What was so special about him, huh? All he has to do is get a couple of scratches on his precious face, and the press talks.

I glared at my tuna sandwich, and then to my laptop screen. I had been sitting there for a least half an hour watching the screen, hoping the little number ‘10’ in the corner would steadily increase…yet it didn’t. I angrily slammed the laptop shut, ignoring the glower that I got from the librarian.

I tucked my sacred laptop safely under my arm, and exited the school library. So much for becoming blog famous today. I rounded the corner, and that’s when I saw him.

Grayson was leaning against a wall, holding a cellphone up against his ear. He looked like he was going to reach into the phone and pummel whoever was on the other line. Everyone was at lunch, therefore the halls were empty, and it was only him and I. I backpedaled behind the corner, so he couldn’t see me.

“Yes, don’t you think I know that by now?”  He hissed out. “Blame the shitty principal, for me being late!” he paused. “They sent people! That’s why my fucking face is like it is!” He was silent for a few seconds. “I’ll call you back.”  The call ended, and his footsteps got closer.

I quickly got up and ran down the hallway. Shoes smacked the linoleum flooring. “Hey, girl with the laptop!”

I stopped in the middle of the corridors, fear making me stand frigid. My heart skipped a beat, and my hands started to shake. I closed my eyes and started to pray. Dear lord, please forgive me for talking bad about Grayson Marcs, and believing the rumors about him. I was just mad about my blog and the fact that this school has crappy Wi-Fi, you see! This whole ordeal is just a common misunder—”

A rough hand tapped me on the shoulder. My eyes flew open and widened in fear. I talked bad about Grayson Marcs, and now I was going to pay.  “P-please don’t b-beat me up!” I held my laptop protectively to my chest. “I-I have a family and a pet dinosaur, who needs feeding and he would be heartbroken and out of control if he found out I was dead. So please don’t kill me!”

Before he could respond, I booked it away from him. Never again, Tatum, never again will I stumble across Grayson Marcs, for I am too scared he will beat the living shit out of me. This is all your fault Monday. Curse you Mondays! Curse you!

***

And here you go! I updated just like I said I would! ;) First chapter down.

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@summer_night