Guns and Roses

Chapter One

# Warning for readers - This book has a fair amount of minor cursing and some violence. But not enough to make me mark it as Restricted. So if you have a thing for bad-ass girls/boys, gang life or just plain old rudeness, then this is just the story for you ;)

Thank you for reading Guns and Roses. I hope you enjoy :)

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I leaned back in the creaky metal chair, calmly looking at him freaking out.

He's probably thinking I am here to send him to goody-two-shoes heaven.

Sighing, I stroked my gun, holding it up clearly as I mock aimed at him. He frantically pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes, his terrified eyes trained on the gun all the time. His fists were clenched and his eyes roved around once or twice, looking for help.

Weak.

And gullible.

Exactly the kind I needed as my boyfriend.

Damn the law. Damn parole.

Now I had to pretend to be a good girl. Get good grades. Get good friends. And "a good high school boy who is not a criminal" as my boyfriend, quoting my wonderful father. Notice my sarcasm here?

I can never bear these stupid High school jocks and their Barbie doll cheerleaders-cum-girlfriends. Just watching them makes me want to puke. All through High school I never bothered to mix with the crowd at Redwood High. Hell, I didn't even bother to attend most of my classes last year. But karma had caught up with me. And here I was, sitting in the school library, which I didn't even know it existed until yesterday night.

Now, there were certain provisions I had to fulfil. And if I failed... well... my "wonderful" Dad would ship me off to a juvenile rehabilitation centre somewhere in wild Texas. Scowling at the memory, I turned back to the goody-two-shoes sitting stiffly in front of me.

Ned Baxtor here met all my demands. He was a nerd, probably hasn't ever hurt even a fly and most likely, the police don't even know that he exists. However, it was purely a co-incidence that the school nerd turned out to be a good looking football player too. Good looks would be an understated word to describe him. His bronze hair fell perfectly unto his forehead. A perfectly chiselled face and eyes that sparkle a chocolate brown. A small black frame of spectacles rests on his nose. My eyes wandered down to his chest. A perfectly fitting black shirt, outlining his toned chest.

I snapped my mouth shut.

Whatever, I shrugged my shoulders.

However much he looks good, he's not my type, I thought as I smirked at him. I always prefer the bad boys.

The ones who never bothered with the sugar-coating.

The ones who courted danger every day.

The ones who jumped you on the first date and kissed you till you couldn't breathe anymore.