rokovanje {slovenian} >> to handle, handshake
______________
3.
Nicholas fucking Spencer.
Out of all the people I could piss off today, I just had to do it to the son of the school board director. If I had a word to describe him, I would say he was elusive. No one really knew what Nicholas Spencer does to spend time in school. He's all over the place—a few AP classes here and there, somehow managing to wring his way inside the prom committee once, and he's just in everyone's radar. We just don't know anything about the guy except that he's the son of the school board director.
"Shit, you must be having a really bad day," he snorted, fixing his worksheets. "The library is empty, so take that table you're sitting on right now."
He was right of course, but I'm not going to just blindly sit down because a boy told me to. Besides he knocked me down. "No, I'm not," I crossed my arms, "Give up the seat."
"Are you listening to yourself?" he asked bluntly.
"You knocked me down with your oversized backpack," I pointed out.
"You're confiscating my headphones in your little hands," he countered.
"It causes sound pollution," I narrowed my eyes. "Who has the right mind to have the sound loud enough to butcher other people?"
"People who don't enjoy other people's presence," he snapped back. "Radiohead's a classic."
I sadly agree with him.
"I'll give back the headphones if you give up the seat," I offered, shaking them in my hand, then looking at the brand. Shit, it really cost a lot of money.
"Why do you want this seat so much?" he turned to look at me. His dark blue eyes were raging like the ocean, knowing I had caused that, being at his wits. "It's just a seat."
I sighed, contemplating my answer as I placed the headphones on the table. "The sun is hitting everywhere on the right angles in that seat, and you can definitely see the whole quad from there. Sometimes I imagine jumps and cartwheels, giving the perfect distraction but still focusing enough to finish whatever it is I'm trying to do. Give up the seat."
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then he scoffed, "You're a cheerleader."
"Ex-captain," I corrected.
"Sucks to be you. What did you do to be an ex-captain, pompoms?"
"I got suspended, as of before the first big game weekend of the season," I say matter-of-factly. "Done with the questions?"
He looked confused. "So, tell me what does one do to get suspended from cheerleading?"
I gave up and sat on the second-best table, ignoring him, pulling my homework from my backpack. He just looked at me expectantly, tapping his fingers on the wood.
"Don't ignore me. I know you, Haley Winchester. Jana Pulaski has been chasing after you like the paparazzi she is. Did you do anything illegal?"
"Ugh, I wouldn't dream," I rolled my eyes, getting back to my lunch.
"Then don't leave me hanging."
"You seem to care an awful lot for a stranger, Nicholas Spencer," I smiled at him, countering the conversation. "Yeah, I know you. Girls do talk about you."
"Well, I haven't been known to counter cheerleaders, much less ex-cheerleaders."
"I'm only suspended until after Spring Break," I told him, reminding myself of the mishap. "That's when I can spot and help the team win Nationals."
YOU ARE READING
The Scraps
Teen Fiction"So tell me, how does one get suspended from cheerleading?" Haley Winchester got stripped off her title as the Captain of the Cheerleaders, before she even became one. On top of that, she has to deal with the wreck of her family, the loss of her see...
