The Badboy Smokes

Chapter Three

I wake up on Friday morning feeling well rested. Despite this, going to school is the last thing I want to do. However, if I don't go, the odds of me failing my whole life are a lot higher and, therefore, I have to go. I change into a dark, buttoned up flannel and tuck it into a black mid-thigh length skirt, staying modest with black tights and finishing the look with dark, platformed Doc Martens.

My dad is sitting at the bar counter reading a newspaper with a coffee mug sitting next to him.
"Hey, honey," He says, not looking to me.
"Hey," I answer, "I gotta go, bye."
"Bye, honey," He says, not looking to me.

On my drive to school, I nearly take out a pedestrian, only nearly avoiding them. However, when they flick me off I consider punching the gas and getting them for real this time. Nobody would blame me since the road is snowy and my tires suck.

Jenna isn't at the library by the time I arrive, so I set my stuff down and wait. Finally, I glance at my phone and realize it's only 6:45. Normally I wake up at 7:20, get here by 7:45 and school starts at 8:30. I turn my alarm off in advance and drop my head onto my forearms. The only dependable thing about my dad is that he's always at the counter, and it only sucks when it's six in the morning and I don't realize that it's six in the morning and I leave for school at six in the fucking morning.

I grab all my stuff and leave the library, deciding I'd walk around the empty school. I'm suddenly the loser who shows up to school two hours early. I always made fun of that kind of person and now I am that kind of person. I hate myself. I should've checked the time before leaving my house, but I didn't.

The halls are so empty that if I cared enough to listen, I could hear a pin drop. I've never seen so few people in the halls at once and so listening to the silence is somewhat satisfying. However, it becomes creepy when I hear footsteps in the hall, but can't see anyone else anywhere.

I countinue to walk and look over my shoulder to casually find out who's coming up behind me, but nobody is. It begins to feel like a horror movie when the footsteps continue, despite the barren hall. Due to the paranoia of being in a scary movie, I flinch at the sound of something falling to the floor behind me. Continuing to walk forward, I look behind me again just to see a pen that may or may not have been there before. When I turn back around, I come close to running into a dark surface, only being stopped by my text book. I flinch back and look up at Jayce who's staring back at me with a cold expression.

"Little early, Hollie," He informs me, then holds his hands out, "Let me carry that."
He reaches out for the textbook in my hands. I furrow my brows a little, but reluctantly hand it over and he drops it, creating a loud thud on the ground. I huff and crouch to pick it up, watching him turn on his heel to walk back down the hallway. But he pauses and looks over his shoulder at me, seeming to wait for me to catch up to him before he'll continue walking.

"You're here early," Jayce restates, staring at me from the corners of his eyes as we walk.
"I woke up and didn't look at a clock," I answer, slightly embarassed that that's even a reason as to why I should be two hours early to school.
"Wow," He answers, "That's pretty dumb."
"Okay," I reply, "Says the guy who fought Markus Wilde."
"You realize that means nothing to me," Jayce says, and looks forwards again.
"Okay, take yourself," I explain, "Now, take away the black, the leather, the bike, add sports, add girls, add friends. Markus Wilde."
"I'm insulted," He answers.
"Good," I reply, and shift my text book to my other arm.

"I get girls," Jayce informs me, "And I'm capable of sports and I had friends at Benedict's. Wilde sounds just like me, but he's a pussy."
I breathe through a smile as a laugh, with a little disbelief in his slight childness.
"Just because you beat him up doesn't make him a pussy," I inform him and I see him roll his eyes in my peripheral vision.