17 year old Melina Garcia is nothing but trouble. And trouble is all that seems to follow her. When enrolled into a new school, she seems to develop a nemesis; her music theory professor, Mr Armstrong. But what happens when their constant nagging an...
"You like that don't you baby?" he teased in my ear, biting down on the ear lobe right after. His thrusts were quick and rough and I was in heaven.
"M-Melina?" I suddenly heard someone choke out. Mr Armstrong's thrusts came to a stop. I raised my head in the direction of the voice and my eyes met Michael's.
"Shit. Michael I-"
"H-how could you? I thought we.. you know.." Michael looked crushed and was struggling to form sentences.
"Baby-"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Before I knew it, Michael had been shot three times and collapsed right in front of me. Dead.
"MICHAEL!" I cried, tears falling quickly from my eyes, my chest tightening. He was dead.
Suddenly Mr Armstrong had the gun pressed against my temple. "What a shame. He was innocent and a good person. Unlike you." he chuckled darkly, right before he pulled the trigger.
BANG!
I shot up instantly, sweating and felt my face stained with hot salty tears. It was just another nightmare. This was the third one in a row. They were getting even more graphic and involved someone dying every time.
I looked at the alarm clock on my night stand. 4:09 am.
I let out a sigh of annoyance. I wasn't getting any sleep anytime soon. I decided to work on my art project. I had all the sketches of the Forever 27 club on tracing paper, so I was going to transfer them to the canvas. The project was due in a week and a half so I figured if I got the hardest part out of the way now, I could take my time with the psychedelic paint style and choosing a title font.
Before I knew it, my 7 am alarm was going off. I had one member of the group left to add details to. Jim Morrison. I decided I wasn't going to put much effort into my appearance today so I used up that time for finishing Jim Morrison instead of doing my hair and makeup and all that jazz.
It was getting closer and closer to 8 am and I had finished Jim Morrison. I was actually kind of impressed with my work. I hung the canvas on the easel in the corner of my room and then made my way over to my closet.
I grabbed a baggy Rolling Stones crewneck sweater, a pair of ripped jean shorts, and slipped on socks and converse. My hair looked greasy so I put some dry shampoo in it and ran my fingers through for a bit. It was natural wavy and messy as hell but I didn't have time to fix it anymore. I just put on mascara and a light layer of foundation because eyeliner takes me waaay longer than the five minutes that I had left.
I grabbed my backpack off of the floor and my car keys off of my desk and headed downstairs.
. . .
I managed to make it to Mr Armstrong's class just a few seconds before the bell rang. He seemed to have been waiting for me just outside the door of his class room.
"You look like hell" he pointed out.
"Says Satan himself" I spat. He looked taken back for a second but brushed it off.
"Seriously Melina are you okay? You look like you're sick" he asked softly.
"I'm fine" I lied. He wasn't going to see me vulnerable and weak. No way.
I went to walk in front of him but he caught my wrist. "I swear to god, I will drive you home if I have to. You seriously look like you haven't slept in days."
Dammit I should have put on concealer.
"Do you mind? I'm trying to get an education here." and with that I walked past him as quick as possible and sat down in my seat in the back row.
Mr Armstrong got everyone's attention and I couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable he suddenly looked.
"Right. Okay. Uhm, so I have a summative for you all. It is worth fifteen percent of your final grade. For this assignment what I would like you to do is learn how to..." those were the last words I heard before I complete passed out at my desk.
. . .
"Did you have a good sleep?" someone spoke loudly in my ear.
"Aunt Evelyn I hate casserole!" I slurred out as I shot up, suddenly awake.
He couldn't help but laugh at me. Why did his laugh sound so nice? "What do you mean you don't like casserole?" he asked.
"I just.. fuck I don't know. It's just weird and mushy and- why am I even telling you this?" I let out a sigh as I tried to wake myself up.
He chuckled. "I just talked to your English teacher Mr Wentz and told him you were feeling ill. So get your stuff together because I'm driving you home.
"But I drove to school." I said confused.
"I know, I'm going to drive your car." he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The thought of him touching my car, my baby, woke me right up.
"In your fucking dreams man." I growled. He smirked at this.
"Awe is someone a little too protective of their car? Seriously Mel it's just a car."
"Just a car? Are you insane? How dare you and did you really just call me Mel? We're on to nicknames now? What is wrong with you?" I shouted aggravated.
Mr Armstrong's cheeks had a pink tint to them. He cleared his throat and let out a sigh. "Yeah why not? You called me Satan, I'm calling you Mel. Now come on I'm driving you home." He leaned in for my car keys but I pulled them back taking a step back towards my desk. He was quicker seeing as he had placed both hands on my desk, one each on opposite sides of me, trapping me.
Asshole.
He leaned in without hesitation and his lips captured mine in one of the softest kisses we've ever shared. I tensed at first but found myself relaxing into his embrace. His one hand placed itself on top of mine and intertwined his fingers with mine. I felt myself blushing at this but carried on kissing him.
After a while we both pulled away. The smile on his face made my knees feel weak and holy hell did that ever scare me.
Moments later he held his hand up in front of my face, my keys dangling from his fingers.
He smiled at me cheekily. "Now how about I drive you home?"
Mr Armstrong- 1. Melina- 0.
. . .
A/N: Well well welly well well.
I'm sorry this chapter sucked but I'm trying to get as many updates in before I leave for Quebec on thursday. Your girl is going to Rockfest and look at this fucking lineup man:
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I don't even know if I'm going to make it out alive. But that's okay cause this is so worth it. Anyway, thanks for reading babes and have a good day!
