Breathe

Chapter four

I don't bother glancing at this ass hat's face.

I stood my ground, and as do he.

The light shines down right under his face, heightening his structure and giving me access to his blazing green eyes shooting daggers at me.

We were both competitors, unwilling to be defeated.

I squint at him, paying no attention to pedestrians making there way through us in the middle of the train station.

Jamie and Nicole both look equally stunned to see me and glance between him and I, while Gothic girl with dreadlocks and a buff looking brown skinned guy are standing beside them.

They don't express any kind of emotion towards the situation before them, to which I am glad.

"Spunky! What are you doing riding on the train alone?" Jamie asks me, undoubtedly puzzled.

I don't bother correcting him since it's just pointless with this guy.

I suppose it looks strange to see a high status girl riding on the train by herself.

Nicole seems to brush off the intense glare that this asshole and I are having and approaches me for a big hug before I can stop her.

"Do you want to go clubbing with us? We're planning on crashing on all the clubs in Soho tonight!" She giggles non-stop after telling me.

Clubbing? On a Monday?

Are they crazy?

"Are you crazy? This is Monday."

I am the first one to stand down from our glare as I look at Nicole with wide eyes.

She is wearing a pink eye shadow that matches her crop top and fade out baggy jeans with a disco ball earring hanging down both her ears.

Her appearance reminds me of 'The late 70's show'.

"Again, it is none of your fucking business."

I can feel his eyes drilling holes on the side of my head as he slides in with a voice that's clear and deep, lacing with irritation.

Surprisingly, out of all of the people that I met today, his accent does not contain a single shred of Queens in his vowels,

while every body here would emphasize on the 'o' sound inside their throats.

"Come on, Chet don't be rude. She's my friend."

Nicole pouts and sulks like a baby at Chet the asshole.

Chet the asshole.

Now that's a good nick name.

I'm not her friend.

Instead I ignore her and I tilt my head back up at him, he is tall and lean with limited amount of muscles on his arms.

Weak.

He doesn't wear his hood up like at school, leaving his honey blonde hair in sight.

The back and sides are cut a bit short while his top hair is long and thick, giving out an unpolished style.

He is attractive in a messy kind of way.

Ugh, what are you thinking Marina?

He notices me checking him out and roll his eyes again, this time more exaggerated and scowls.

but then instantly changes his demeanor and his lips turns into a pain-in-the-ass kind of smirk.

This guy has issues.