Savannah was the ultimate badgirl and the leader of her gang of girls. They had a strict policy against love and could go to any extent to show how much ignorant they could stay from love. With ruling the highschool's underworld, she almost never ca...
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C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N | He Gets Beaten
THERE ARE TWO THINGS I've never imagined before in my life. First thing was starting up a new school and being the underworld's new victim and the other being in the same room as Savannah James. Let me rephrase that for you all. Passed out Savannah James.
I'm not the type of guy who would see her cute face and get emotional and soft just because she looked harmless because Savannah does not look harmless. Even in her sleep, she could murder people and torture animals. The way her brows are drawn downwards and eyes shut so tightly that all her creases were visible. Who could ignore that constant scowl in her state of rest?
I realized I was staring at her for far too long. So, I looked away and opened my bag up. Taking out some painkillers and the fruit juice (which I had stolen from Alayna's stash), I placed it on the same desk where the joints and a white powder was displayed. Shaking my head a little, I tore out a piece from my notebook and began to dust the powder onto the white paper.
How do you treat people who had passed out?
Scrunching up the paper, I threw it into the trash can. No more drugs. No more dangerous Savannah. Grabbing my water bottle from my bag, I approached her. She was laid on the ground comfortably, her hands on her stomach and hair displayed beneath her in a haphazard way. Her breathing was slow and the frown lines had disappeared meaning she was now asleep and probably out of danger. Placing the stuff next to her, I got up again to looked around the room.
The room looked like an art supplies store. "They must have a towel," I muttered and quickly rushed to the nearest drawers. Pulling open one, I was disappointed to find aprons and spare shirts but no towels. "Quick thinking," I mumbled as I tightened my hand over the spare shirt before walking into the toilet. Pushing it under the tap, I pulled the lever up and watched the water pour through the cloth. It was hot which was good.
Closing the door behind me, I briskly made my way to Savannah who was now softly breathing but the colour of her skin hadn't returned. Setting it down, I brought my hands to her legs and slightly lifted them. I bent it a little so it could be above her heart level. Then I grabbed the wet cloth and laid it on her forehead. I hope that works.
I was missing a lot of classes but I can't just let her be alone on her own. "Wake up," I retorted as I grabbed her hands and rubbed on them to make her warm again. Her hands were so soft and...strangely delicate. Slender fingers and naturally long nails. There was a small tattoo on her finger.
always so strong
"More like always so scary," I commented and continued with the other hand. A little bit of her colour returned. I looked at the clock. Shit. I had to get home. Placing her hands back on her stomach, I got out of my jacket and put it across her to keep her warm. Then I grabbed a random paper and wrote:
