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The following morning Noah's smile never appeared on her face when she got ready for classes. When the weekend was over she'd always drop whatever happy facade she was trying to pull, dwelling on the fact that she would be aroun nazi's, mexican cartels, and crude bitches.
Being a rat was hard. She didn't come from a family of CIA, FBI, or NASA employers, she wasn't raised to kill people or push drugs- she was a natural born killer with a taste of viciousness.
When she walked down the hall to her locker before AP Black Arts, she noticed Marcus walking from the locker rooms.
With the help of the hot shower his face no longer supporting the dirt trails of sweat and tears. His hair was combed and dark, and he wore the Kings Dominion uniform in a professional way- except his tie wasn't tied correctly.
And when his shoulder bumped Willie, his books being sent to the ground he soared his palms facing upwards, "Dude, what's your problem?"
Willie didn't even turn around, just shot a comment over his shoulder, "Punk-ass bitches are my problem." The classmates let out a laugh as Marcus bent over to grab his books, glaring up at Wille.
He almost looked like a badass who handled his terrible classmates, until he tried to say hi to Saya.
"Hey, Saya, what's up?" He waved, but the legacy girl just ignored him, walking with her 'friend'.
Blonde, Brandy Lynn, who held the title for head bitch of the school, looked at Marcus with a fake smirk, "Yakuza don't associate with wetbacks, dipshit."
Feeling bad for the kid she slowly walked up to his right, his eyes looking at her expectedly, "You gonna shove me? Ignore me like everyone else here?"
"No." She hummed, leaning against the locker, her books hugged into her chest. Marcus looked at her in confusion as the girl rolled her eyes, "You'll realize soon enough, that these people only associate themselves with their own people."
He looked at his combo and turned to insert it to the lock, "Yeah? Where's your people?"
She ignored his question, putting her books in her shoulder bag before walking in close, holding onto the tie, quickly tying it as he looked down at her, his eyes never leaving her focused ones, Noah feeling his hot breath from his nose flushing against her face.
When she pulled away she tapped his chest twice with a smile, and before Marcus could thank you Maria slammed herself onto his left with a smile, "You Mexican?"
Marcus turned to look at her in surprise, glancing back at Noah before rotating back to Maria, "Uh, dad's from Nicaragua, my mom's from Kansas."
"Yeah, whatever you are," Maria shoved off the previous question, "-some rep you've got."
