The Undercover Bad Boy

Chapter Three: Cucumber Sandwiches

Chapter Three - Cucumber Sandwiches

I woke up with a pounding headache. I blamed it on my lack of sleep.

Moving at the speed of a zombie, I managed to make my way into my bathroom. I glanced at my reflection, groaning because, not only did I move like a zombie, I looked like one.

Someone call up The Walking Dead producers and tell them that they've got a new cast member.

My brown hair was a tangled mess at the top of my head and the circles under my eyes were more prominent. I reached for a comb to try tame the thing on my head. When my attempts proved futile, I just turned on my shower, waited for the temperature to heat up, and then stepped into it. I made sure that I used twice as much conditioner than usual.

Fifteen minutes later, I took one last glance in the mirror and I was ready to go. I was wearing my dark skinny jeans, a white top and a army green jacket. I looked the same as usual.

The rest of my family were in the kitchen downstairs. As I neared the room, I could hear my mother pottering around and my brother talking animatedly to my dad about something. Probably football.

I didn't have any time to sit down and eat breakfast because Luke pulled up in front of my house. I said a quick greeting and goodbye to my family, slipped a nature bar into my bag and then rushed out to meet Luke.

☯

"You look like you haven't slept for a week, Alex," commented Luke as he shut the car door.

"Way to boost my self confidence," I replied.

"Anytime."

We trudged through the rain. The school building was masked by a layer of mist or fog. This made navigating our way through the car park the equivalent of trying to get out of the labyrinth. It was impossible.

That's English weather for you.

I almost walked into a car, twice. Luke pulled me back at the last second. I, for the second time this morning, just blamed it on my lack of sleep. Thinking back, I should have picked up an extra large coffee on the way here.

The day went quick. Soon enough, I found myself sitting in the dining hall with Tara and Luke, this time with the addition of Parker. They were having some pointless conversation about why chicken sandwiches were better than cucumber ones. I didn't really understand my friends.

Ever since I discovered who Zachary Edwards was I'd been seeing him everywhere. Literally everywhere. With one exception: the girls bathroom. I would walk past him in the hallway or make awkward eye contact whenever he passed my locker. At present, he was leisurely sitting on the other side of the hall. He was at an empty table, concentrating on the book he was reading.

I couldn't help but think that he had quite attractive features behind the massive glasses and the gelled back hair.

Zachary looked up and caught me staring at him. I quickly averted my eyes to the wall behind him, hoping he didn't notice. When I was brave enough to glance back at him, I saw that he had continued reading his book. But, this time, he was smirking. Smirking. And I don't think it was because of what he was reading.

"He looks lonely," Luke commented. I realised that he was talking about Zachary. Before I could stop him, he began shouting his name and signalled him over to our table. This earned us a few questionable looks - as usual. You got used to when you've been a friend of Luke's as long as I have.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, pulling him back down.

Luke ignored me and watched Zachary walk up to us.

"Hi," he said quietly as soon as he arrived.

Zachary dragged a chair from another table and placed it so he was seated between Parker and Luke. Noticeably, he was as far away as physically possible from me.

"I, for one, think that chicken sandwiches are the alpha sandwich. Do you agree, Zachary?" asked Luke, pointing a chip at him. I almost felt bad for Zachary. He had to join in with our very intellectual conversation.

"Sorry, man, but I have to say cucumber."

Luke shot him a fake glare, but he ended up laughing instead. "And you, Alex, chicken or cucumber?"

"I can't exactly have a chicken sandwich, Luke."

"Oh, that's right. You're vegetarian," he corrected himself. "Whatever, chicken is still the champion. It's three against two, majority rules," Luke stated and then he grumbled something that sounded strangely like "animal lovers."

He then alternated between asking any person who walked past our table if they preferred chicken sandwiches over cucumber or he serenaded us with the song We Are the Champions, by Queen.

Tara, having to shout over Luke's first class singing, asked: "When are you going to start doing the math tutoring?"

"I was thinking about tomorrow lunchtime," Zachary replied, he turned to face me. Replied wasn't the correct word. He more like lied. "If that's okay with you?"

I nodded slowly. This was a different response from yesterday. "I thought you were busy this week," I ventured.

"I cancelled all my plans," he said smoothly, smirking slightly. "Just for you, darling."

I shot him a glare. "Aw, you didn't have to."

Tara glanced between us, confusion evident on her face.

It was obvious though. Today confirmed it.

He disliked me with a passion.

☯

It was the following day. We were sitting in the corner of the dimly lit library. There were math books and pieces of paper scattered all over the table in front of us.

Zachary let out a long breath, making it very clear that he was irritated. "What do you need help with, Hale?"

"Everything, Edwards." I was beyond being polite. We seemed to be on a last name basis, I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Helpful. Very, helpful," said Zachary.

At first glance, I thought he was going to be this nice, geeky guy. I was wrong. Very wrong. His appearance masked an irritable - I'll stop myself there. I couldn't think of any appropriate word to describe him with. His personality did not match his appearance at all.

"Factorising," I said after a while. "I can't factorise equations."

He looked up at me, confused for a millisecond, and then nodded. "See, it wasn't that hard," he muttered as he flipped through some textbooks.

"Harder than your-"

"Don't. Even. Go. There."

I bit the inside of my cheek, partly to stop me from finishing the sentence, partly so I didn't crack up laughing.

He glared at me. "This isn't going to work. At all," he said with definite finality. "I'm going to go up to Mr Carlton and tell him to find a new tutor for you, because I am sick of you."

"Fifteen minutes. It's been fifteen minutes," I ran a hand through my hair in exasperation. That had to be the fastest time for someone to me hate me in. "You know what, fine. I will cooperate as long as you do."

"Let's try this again. What do you need help with?"

"Everything."

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HEEEEEY

Third chapter up, yaay

I don't know what else to say here really.

Chicken or cucumber sandwiches?

BROFIST - do we have any bros out there?