Experimental Love (zaydora a.u)

Chapter 4. The unknown variable

"Did he really make you cry?"

I cringe as I continue to pile my books into my locker. It was the question I had been dreading the entire weekend.

I ignored Maya and Riley, but I knew that Monday would have no escape for me and questions about Friday's incident were expected.

The owner of the question stayed hidden behind the metal door. Long legs clad in Levi's and the hem of a white tee was all I could see from my hiding spot. Such details were too general to specify identity.

"Look okay, it would make me extremely happy if you'd just leave me alone." I say cautiously, pretending to rummage through my stuff for a pen I knew was in my bag.

Mystery boy doesn't leave. What he does do is chuckle, "Well I'd leave after you answer my question. Then we'd both be happy."

There's something in his tone of voice that makes me slam my locker shut.

But all that adrenaline fades into fear when I register the fact that one of the school's notorious bad boys was standing before me.

"Yikes. Be gentle, Toaster."

I am so dead. Dead dead dead dead dead.

"So was that locker slam a yes or a no?"

I gape at him, all 6 feet of bad news. The hallway is now quietly buzzing around us, passerbys curious and nosy.

And why wouldn't they be? If someone had slammed their locker in the face of Isaiah friggin Babineaux I would've stopped to stare myself.

Isaiah was one of the boys your parents told you to stay away from. He hung out with a bad crowd, failed classes as a hobby, and took smoke breaks behind the school.

It was said that he was nearly beat a kid to death at the last school he was in. Which is why his family had to move here after his expulsion.

"Silent treatment, huh?" His words pull me out of my thoughts. "Well when you find your voice, call me."

And just like that, he leaves.

What did he mean by call ---

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

On my left hand was a string of digits that could only be a phone number.

Isaiah Babineaux had written his number on my hand without my knowledge.

*

I went straight to the restroom to wash it off but to no avail. The bastard used a Sharpie.

I debated on whether or not to march into the cafeteria, grab his tray and dump it on him.  But since I would like to keep my school record unblemished, I decided against that.

"I'll just call him." I mutter, punching in the digits into my phone.

It rang twice before he answered.

"I'm assuming this is Isadora."

For some reason, hearing him say my first name made my stomach do somersaults. I tsk, feeling foolish. "Just call me Smackle. Everyone else does."

"I think I'll just stick with the name your parents gave you." He laughs softly, and lowers his voice,  "Besides Isadora is a pretty one."

My heart kind of flutters at that last sentence. I mean, I know he means my name Isadora is pretty not I Isadora is pretty but still

"Hello? Isa? Did I lose you?" He sounds worried.

I roll my eyes. "I'm still here, Isaiah. Pipe down."