Reckless

Chapter 3

reck·less (Adj) [ rékləss ] without thought of danger: marked by a lack of thought about danger or other possible undesirable consequences

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The bell rang for the last time this year.

I was expecting a High School Musical moment where everyone threw their papers in the air and broke into song and dance. Much to my disappointment the only papers that flew were the ones that went into the trash. Feet created an unsyncapated rhythm of stomps and leaps. Songs of names being called and screeches of joy went along with the ever changing foot beat. But when I snapped back to reality, I was at my locker grabbing the last few odds and ends and pens and pencils.

I slammed my locker for the last time and ran to catch the bus. I had been late for curfew the night of Andrew's party and my car "privileges were suspended" as my mom put it. I had a few minutes to spare by the time I found a seat on the big yellow bus filled with ecstatic freshman. I slumped in my seat and watched out the window. My back straightened in surprise when I spotted Bob looking frantic and disheveled. He looked around and laid eyes on my bus. I stared wide eyed as Bob grew closer and closer until he was mounting the stairs of the bus. His green eyes scanned the seats and then stuck on something.

Wait, that something was me.

My brows knitted progressively closer together as Bob pushed his way through students towards me and sat down next to me. I stared blankly at him and his heaving chest. "Hey." He flipped his hair off his forehead.

"Have you ever considered getting your hair cut?" I asked suddenly. He had a piece of hair that always fell down and it had begun to bother me.

"Um, not necessarily." He responded, confused.

"Then you really should just put some gel on that bit of hair." I suggested.

"Does it bother you that much?"

"Yes." I answered simply.

"Good, then I will have it fall onto my forehead over and over so that it drives you crazy." Bob joked. I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but laugh a little. After that we fell into a lapse of silence.

It was a long time before I said anything, almost everyone had gotten off the bus.

"Why did you move here anyway? Why so late in the year?" I was genuinely curious, I would hate it if I had to do that.

"I wanted something fresh. I got tired of my old school so I decided I wanted to move."

"You couldn't have waited just a few weeks?" I asked in disbelief.

"Apparently not," he winked at me. My heart jumped up my throat. "We have yet to introduce ourselves." He extended a hand towards me.

"Blaike." I shook his hand.

"Quentin." I nearly choked, that was the last name I was expecting.

"Nice to meet you, uh, Quentin."

"It wasn't so pleasant the first time if I recall." Quentin raised his eyebrows.

"You only spoke two words!" I argued.

"True."

"Are we going to one word now?" My eyes grew wide.

"Nope." His response earned me a wink. I just rolled my eyes.

"You're impossible." I sighed.

"That's what my parent's said too." Quentin grew sober.

Realizing the meaning of his words I was quick to apologize. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you at all." I grew wary. He waved it off with his hand.