Cheek to Cheek

Chapter 1

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It could have not been boring in chemistry today. Our regular teacher was gone, and a boring, old man with a monotoned voice had substituted for him. His voice carried on in a dreary voice as he explained today's lesson with a bored expression plastered on his face. Well, he sure wasn't the only one.

My best friend Tabitha, or as I like to call her Tabby, was sitting across the room from me with her head tilted back, staring uninterestingly at the ceiling. Ron, the boy seated next to her, was playing with the spit in his mouth next to John, who even he had the look of disgust on his face similar to mine. In front of John sat Lizzy, who was playing around with her hair in a small compact mirror. She sat between Alexia and Monica, the twin sisters both with an interest in soccer.

On the other side of the room, where I sat, at the end of the row was Michael, fidgeting around with a piece of paper. Behind him was Jack, a gorgeous, dark-haired, tall fellow whom I adored. He was everything I ever wanted in a guy, and I have been going after him for six months. I nearly drooled over myself just thinking about him, his amazing abs, his perfect hair, his beautiful smile... What was there not to love? Currently, he had been throwing spitballs across the room, and one had flown into John's hoodie, but John had not noticed.

Next to John was Melissa, another girl that I would say was a pretty good friend of mine. We've had our disputes, but it all worked out in the end. She was braiding her hair carelessly, tassling it and forming large knots. Sadly, next to Melissa was James, or his preferred name Jake. There seemed to be no reason for this, for if you asked him, he would meekly reply, "It's badass." James would be a perfect name for a gentleman, which 'Jake' was not. Jake was careless, reckless, rude, and just plain obnoxious. Yet, somehow, he was best friends with Jack, which I didn't understand. Don't get me wrong, Jake was not bad-looking in any way whatsoever, but he looked so... rugged down. He wore loose, plain shirts with a pair of ripped jeans whilst Jack wore more fashionable, neater clothing. Jake's hair was also dark, but shaggy and always in a tassled mess. Jack preferred to keep his actually combed. Why couldn't have I been seated next to Jack?

Which brings me back to the seating chart and the sad part. Jake sat between me and Melissa. It felt like I was meant to be tortured for the rest of eternity. He always needed a pencil or paper, and would always distract me by doing something stupid. He sometimes would "accidentally" bump his knee into mine, but I would also catch him smirking afterwards.

Well, today was no different. He bumped into my knee twice so far, gave two unsympathetic sorries, and lightly grinned. I inwardly groaned. Suddenly, I felt a quick bump to my lap. Now his knee could have not reached the far or that high. I glanced at him, only to find him writing a note, probably for Jack. I turned towards the teacher again, only to feel another gentle brush to my lap. I shifted my attention to Jake. This time, he did meet my glance. He smiled gently, moving his eyes around in a confused look.

I turned away slowly again, only to hear a desk dragging. I ignored it. Until I felt a squeeze on my upper thigh and movement from the corner of my eye. My head snapped in Jake's direction. His desk was closer to mine, now, but he looked busy writing the note.

"Did you just-...?"

He looked up at me, a dazed look engraved on his features. "Do what?" I stared at him for a moment, giving him a warning look. The teacher quickly raised his voice, startling me. I looked back at Mr. Daniels, but his voice had once again gone down to a monotone. This time, I saw it. My eyes slowly ventured down to my lap to find a hand about to be placed there. I caught Jake's stare before he could retract his hand.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, bewildered. He shrugged it off, gave me one of his sly smirks and continued to write. I glared at him for a moment, not wanting to look away, in fear of him doing it again. What gave him the nerve to do such a thing? But I had to remember he was James 'Jake' Marks, capable of doing these things. Agitated, I only looked away for a moment, when I felt a small pat on my butt. The chairs were practically like stools, with a thin piece of metal sticking out and a backrest, plenty of room to leave my butt in the open. I tried to ignore it, feeling my cheeks flush with frustration and humiliation to a massive blush. I tried to make sure he didn't notice. He stopped, or so I thought, til I felt another soft pat on my butt.

"Stop. It," I hissed. He only smiled and replied, "Make. Me."

I couldn't take it anymore. My hand shot up in the air. The teacher gazed at me with a curious expression. "Yes?" I glanced at him one more time.

"James keeps touching my butt."

At first, the class was quiet. Those who had put their heads down and were thought to be asleep suddenly rose up at the new disturbance. Then came the snickering, which grew to a massive laughter. I had never felt more embarrassed, but I kept my head high. Jake? He was taking the attention rather well, laughing along and bobbing his head. The teacher sighed, and said, "I guess I will be seeing James after class then?"

James pretended to frown, but I knew he didn't care. At least, he had stopped touching me. The rest of the period went by slowly. This time, the students with their heads down had actually fallen asleep, for when the bell rang, it scared them.

Jack passed James by and roughly patted him on the back, and without sparing me a glance, left the room. I sighed heavily, lifted my tote bag to my shoulders, and rose up to my chair. Only to receive a slap on rear end. I looked back at Jake, who was up from his seat and intently staring at me. He gave me a toothy grin and headed for the substitute teacher. My face must have been as red as a beet. I stomped towards the door angrily and before I left out through the door, I gave James, or should I say Jake, one last look. He had been staring at me on my way out, still smiling. He winked at me.