nymphomaniac | e.d

1 ; cold eyes

"riley are you even listening to a word i'm saying?" julia snarled.
i had barely noticed that she had talking to me, until she practically yelled my name.
"y-yeah what?" i stuttered.
"stop day dreaming and liste- who are you staring at?" she said. she pointed to a tall boy with raven black hair. he was wearing a leather jacket, with ripped black jeans.
"him?" she smirked.
"no! but who is he?" i questioned. the truth was, i had been looking at him this whole time. for some reason i had more interest in him than in julia's chit chat.
"just the hottest boy in our school. his names ethan. did you hear about all the stuff he did this summer?" julia replied.
"what do you mean 'stuff he did this summer'?"
a surprised look came across her face as she came closer to me.
"well i shouldn't say stuff he did, i should say who he did! you know, about all the girls."
"what girls julia? and no! i don't know what you're talking about!" i yelled.
"well, he had sex with just about every senior in our school. emily stevens, rosalie smith, erika jones. everyone!" she said while we both stared at him.

"apparently he's a nymphomaniac," julia murmured while looking at me.
a nymphomaniac? i thought to myself. i mean, he did look intimidating and all, but he didn't look like the type to be hooking up with every girl he saw.
"a what now?" i questioned.
"a nymphomaniac. someone who's addicted to sex. emily stevens said that he doesn't feel anything now, he's had too much sex. she gave him a blow job and nothing happened! and no one knows who took that boys virginity," she said. "everyone suspects it might've been a teacher though," she giggled.

the bell had rang and we both entered the school. all i could think about was what julia had told me about that kid ethan. usually i know when people put on a persona, and when they act as themselves, but for him, i had no idea.

the rest of the day i spent when i usually did, day dream. after hours of writing, i got to my next class, english. although julia, and many of my other friends despised english, i absolutely adored it.  you can express your emotions in any way, it's beautiful! i had so much fun in english last year, and i was excited to see who was in my class this year.
once i entered the classroom, i sat at the back as usual. i watch the rest of the students sprawl into the room. once all the class was seated, our teacher started talking. "good afternoon class, my name is-" he started, but was interrupted by the loud footsteps of someone entering the classroom. i couldn't quite see who had entered yet, but i curiously listened.
"this is english, correct?" the boy asked. his voice was deep and raspy, but i couldn't distinguish who's voice it was.
"yes it is. and you are?" the teacher questioned.
"ethan, ethan dolan."