The Jerk

Anonymously

So I gave the phone to Ethan, letting him know his friends is an asshole. He just laughed, shrugged, and took it. I just so happened to be sitting at my normal chill spot, a bistro table in the main hallway, when my the announcement came.

"Jason McNeil, Ethan Anson, Tate Rhodes, Miller Mason, Grace Van Doren, Stacy Miller, Michael Lexington, Please report to the main office." It said. Not thirty seconds later, Ethan walked past me, towards the main office.

"What did you do?" I ask.

"I'm going to be questioned about the disappearance of the phone's." He laughs, waving it off, continuing down the hall. I put my head down, back to reading my sparknotes version of the book since Tate made me lose my incentive.

"Hey, Ethan's brother." The voice was right next to my ear, making me jump and make an embarrassingly high pitched squeak in fright. Tate laughs, pulling the chair out, sitting down.

"My name is Quinn." I glare at him, annoyed that he looks even hotter today than yesterday, which shouldn't be possible. He has a shadow of a beard as if he forgot to shave, making him look older than 18.

"Quinn." He says, nodding. I look up and down the hallway, not seeing anyone particularly concerned with this interaction. Why is he even here? I turn back to him, his eyes on me still.

"In case you wondering, they couldn't identify the guy who stole the phones and anonymously gave them back to everyone." He shrugs, smirking, stupidly sexy. I

"I wasn't." I reply dryly, turning back to my computer. He chuckles, grabbing the computer.

"Hey!" I huff, reaching for it. He keeps it just out of my reach, looking over the page. Then he puts it back on the table in front of me, acting like it didn't happen.

"So, Quinn, do you have any friends?" He asks, looking around. Wow, what a fucking jerk. I grab my computer, shutting it, wasting no time in shoving it in my backpack and standing up. I don't get two steps before I realize he's following me. I turn around and maybe it was too abrupt. He steps into me, his bigger frame knocking me over. But then he grabs me. I mean, full on grabs my waist, hauling me back up to stand, ending up chest to chest. God must hate me because holy shit he smells good. I pull away, a little flustered, not liking how much I felt from the simple gesture.

"W-why are you following me?" I manage to ask.

"Cause I can." He says, his face unchanging.

"No you can't!" I scoff. He just grins, showing me all his straight, white teeth. I hate him, I decide. I absolutely hate everything about him. Except his body, and face, and voice,and the way he smells.

"Maybe i'm going the same way." He says. Suddenly embarrassed that I hadn't considered it, I just turn around, continuing my walk. But the asshole still follows me, even after the bell rings, the crowd becoming thick in the hall. Doesn't he have somewhere to be?

"Go away." I hiss as I walk into my math class which he follows me into.

"Rhodes, what's good?" Franky, basically the definition of a dumb jock, bumps fist's with Tate as we pass by his desk.

"Just had a question for Quinn." Tate shrugs, all cocky in his attitude.
"No you don't." I glare at him, sitting in the very last seat as usual. The class was filling up, thankfully the teacher wasn't in the room.

"Yes, I do." He smirks, then bending down to whisper in my ear.

"Am I your only friend?" He asks, his breath on my neck making me have to force back a shiver.

"You're not my friend." I respond.

"Mr. Rhodes, may I ask what you are doing in my classroom?" Mr. Thompson asks.

"Oh, sorry, wrong class." He smiles, slapping my cheek playfully before strolling away. I reach up to grab my face, wondering if I could ever hate anyone more than I do Tate Rhodes.