My Version of Happily Ever After

Chapter 2

       Julian's POV

         I guess I'm your classic jock. Ripped, very good looking, popular, and I date lots of hot girls. My current girlfriend, Miranda, is one of the hottest girls in school. She's your classic blonde, with a perfect body and chocolate eyes. But that's pretty much I want her for. Her looks and her body. She's nothing special with smarts, completely helpless with sports, and incredibly needy. It won't last, but I figure why not get a few more fun nights before moving on to the next one?

       I know, I know. It makes me sound like a complete jerk. But she doesn't want me for any more than that either. To be honest, I don't really have an ideal girl in mind. I tell myself I'll know her when I see her, but I'm lying to myself. Anyway, enough with the deep stuff. I'm not losing my man-card in the second paragraph. 

      I play football, hockey, and basketball, as well as having a year-round membership to the local gym. So yes, I am extremely athletic and have great abs. I can get pretty much any lady to do whatever I want with one smile, or for the stubborn ones a flex of my arm. What can I say? I'm a lady's dream man. 

        I also play guitar, cook, and work at Dino's Athletic Apparel.  I plan to get a hockey scholarship to some university and become a lawyer or something. Don't really know, but I don't care either. My parents made sure that I had a clean record for these next few months applying for colleges. Anyway, so long suckers!

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  Blan! Blan!Blan!Blan!Blan!

      "Uhh." I groan as I try and find my alarm. I sit up and rub my eyes, and check the time. 6:15? Why am I up so early? Then I remember. F**k! It's the first day back after the Christmas break. Reaching for my phone, I scroll through my notifications. Not to many, considering most sane high-school students won't be up for almost an hour.  

        I walk downstairs in my boxers and grab a glass of orange juice from the fridge. The only sounds in the house were the quiet hum of the fridge and my Dad getting his things together upstairs. Once I've downed the orange juice, I splash some water on my face and walk into the gym area, preparing  for a hard workout. You know what they say, beauty is pain. And I'm quite beautiful. 

    45 minutes later, I slid down the tan walls breathing heavily. My muscles are on fire and I have drops of sweat running down my face. But I feel good, and my six-pack isn't going anywhere. I towel the worst off my face and head upstairs for a cool shower. I'm switching into an AP English class first period, and I have to look extra handsome. For a millisecond I wonder if she'll be there, but I shove it out of my brain so fast I wonder if I even thought it.Get it together, man! You're with another girl! A smokin' hot one too!  I shake my head and step into the bathroom. 

AP English, 8:44 A.M.

     I wait outside Mrs. Forde's English as she greets the class and introduces me. "Oh, and we have a student transferring into this class for the rest of the term. Please be welcoming to him, and I know a few of you already know him. Julian, come on in!" I roll my eyes at her overly-cheery tone and saunter inside. "Eh, Julian my man!" "Whaz up, Jul-o?" I grin and stick my hand up in the air, accepting the welcome. A few bold brunettes even flipped their hair and cooed, "Hey Julian, how's it going?" I scan the class. Her. Of course she's here. And the only empty seat is right next to Alexandra Melissa Miller. Bro, you got this. It's only a girl. I flash my million-watt smile and stroll past the desks to hers. 

       "Hey beautiful," I whisper. She rolls her eyes as she moves her binder over to her side. "How'd you get into an AP class?" She asks. Ouch. Her opinion of me much have gone down even farther since grade nine. I can't say I blame her though. I've done my very best to get a bad-boy, sex god reputation. I'll show her that I'm her perfect man though. Even Alex will fall for this pretty face.

         I notice her gaze on my arms, than chest, and finally my face. I smile. "Ah, you like what you see? I know you want some of this!" I say, ignoring her earlier question. I gesture up and down my muscle-hardened body. "In your dreams!" She spits back. Okay, okay. She's going to play the hard- to -get game, now is she? I've dealt with those before. I start racing to find a good comeback, but Mrs. Forde's voice pierces through the air. 

    "Alexandra! Julian! Do I need to see you two after class today? I understand this is the first day back after the break but we are in school today and I expect you to work hard! Do you understand me?" Mrs. Forde should be a librarian. She has a long, sharp nose, rimless glasses, and wears her greying hair in a bun. Also, she can hear a whisper from a mile away in a bomb raid. "Yes, Mrs. Forde. I was just welcoming Julien to the class." Alex says sweetly. It's an unspoken rule in our little back-and-forths that she does all the talking. She always knows how to approach each one, and they all love her, the goody-two-shoes. 

        Mrs. Forde's gaze stays on us for a second longer before continuing explaining the units for the next stretch of  term. A month-long group project? Sh*t! That counts for at least a third of our mark! I better have a nerd in my group. Alex glances at me once more before giving a small sigh and tuning into the lecture. I take this time to lean back and study her face. 

      I wasn't lying when I said she was beautiful- she's just not my regular type. As well- she's turned down practically every single dance or date offer. And she's had more than one or two, but her friends, (guys and girls- they all love her) terrify most of them into settling  for less. Including me, I'm ashamed to admit. Although she doesn't even need bodyguards.   She is tough, witty, smart, beautiful, stubborn, kind, and doesn't put up with anyone's crap. But very, very, stubborn. 

        I don't get why I'm always thinking about her. Sure, I spent elementary and junior high with her, being such a small town. But I also spent it with twenty other girls, including Miranda. Oh. Right- I should probably break up with her soon. I just hope she doesn't cry. I hate it when girls cry. They look pathetic, and it makes everything so awkward.  I shake my head subtly, but she still notices. Her eyes dart in my direction for a millisecond, and I pretend I was listening, my eyes glued to the board. She notices everything. From someone getting up to ask the teacher a question to another turning in their seat to talk to their neighbor. She doesn't say anything, or make eye contact, but she notices. Nothing slip by her, except someone's eyes on her. Which is very good in my case. 

      Ok. I am going to stop thinking about  her sparkling eyes or how close we are sitting right about now. I switch my thoughts to Ashley Mourbintique, my ultra- sexy future girlfriend. But I can't picture our bodies pressed up against a wall, mouths suctioned to each other's. You-Know-Who weaves through my thoughts. No, not Voldemort. Please. I can't take it anymore. I raise one of my hands from the back of my head into the air, using the bathroom excuse. I'm cutting class until I get a new seat. Then Alex will be out of my head. For good. Right?