The Human Deceiver

|2|Dean

Copyright©1999beauty

Madison:

There was something that will always remind me that I was just a regular girl despite my tomboy behaviour and the fact that I spoke using my fists and sarcasm. It was something that was so utterly girly I tried to suppress it as much as possible. But that was impossible today.

Dean Holt.

His name sounded so mysterious and brooding. It ran off my tongue so easily and I almost felt myself daydreaming of how he would sound saying my name. It was pretty obvious he was mixed with Italian by the faint accent he had, but there was also another mixture of accent that was giving me a hard time to pick out. Was he American born? Or was it all a show? He wouldn't be the first to want a fresh start as a new kid. I mean, no one was going to check out his old school to see if he actually had an accent. But would I?

It was official, I was infatuated by the boy. Why couldn't I just not like boys? Is life so evil to me?

I turned to the other girls that were giggling and chatting while glancing at the new boy. Okay, I would stick to liking boys. Girls weren't going to do it for me. It was weird enough that I thought of it.

"Well, Dean," I turned to see our teacher giving the new kid a wide and cheery smile which wasn't unusual of him, but still a little too extra. "I hope you enjoy being here at Pierre High. So let's give Dean a warm welcome."

Everyone began to clap, almost too eagerly. Usually, I would just ignore it all, but somehow I found myself putting my hands together in an enthusiastic clapping.

This was getting weirder by the second.

After that warm welcome, class resumed but I could still see quiet chatter all over the room. And by the subtle and not-so-subtle looks they cast to Dean's way, they were definitely talking about him.

I tried not to care. I mean, he was the new kid so what? His life went on and so did mine. There was no need for me to care. But I couldn't stop staring. He grinned at one of the jocks he was talking to and the jock's head made an obvious gesture with his head towards me.

I rolled my eyes and made sure I concentrated on the teacher, although he wasn't teaching but scolding two girls up front. It wasn't a surprise though that when my eyes strayed back towards him, he was looking at me with a sly smirk.

I blushed as I looked down, but not before I caught the wink he sent my way.

Oh, shit!

I was definitely screwed. This had never happened before. Of course you always had some sort of a new kid here. I mean, I was a new kid here just last year. But it wasn't that he was new, it was the fact that he was hot in a bad boy sort of way. Not too bad boy though for danger to be stamped on his forehead, but a healthy dose to know he would shatter your heart to pieces. I didn't know why that made him that much more attractive. Was something wrong with me? Everything looked fine this morning. Was I missing something? Clearly if a boy winking at me caused me to not be able to think of anything else. Was this all a bit cliche? If this was a cliche story,  then why was he looking at me?  There were too many "good girls" everywhere else. I had been to the principal's office way too many times for me to be considered even remotely good. Not that I wanted to anyway. Those girls were either pretending or getting bullied. It was a given.

"Now let's start today's class of American History," our teacher said, trying to grab back the attention of the class and I realize I was not the only one checking him out. One of the popular kids was already giving me the stink eye. It seemed someone had dibs on him. Too bad. I looked away and tried to focus on the teacher. I was already flunking in History and this was my last year here. History of all things. I needed to up my grades. When you just couldn't see how it was possible to study a thousand page book for an exam. Sigh. Then they wonder why kids cheat. This was never a fair school system. "So last class we started on world war II does anyone remember what we spoke about last class?"