Clarissa Grayson Tate grew up in a wealthy home. From a far, her family looked perfect. To anyone who saw them in a picture or exchanged a few words with them at a party they were lucky enough to be invited to, they seemed like an annoyingly perfect...
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I have no idea why I'm letting this idiot order me around. He just stands there with that insufferable smirk as he looks at me in amusement. "Loosen up doll" seriously? When the hell did he even start calling me that stupid name? I don't need to loosen up anyway. I drink. I party. I have fun! ... sometimes.
With all this in mind, here I am. Following Derek out of his new 1968 Chevrolet and up a hill that could lead to anything. For all I know this could be how I die. I mean seriously think about it, cute guy in a gang lures a little blond girl, who just so happens to be in a competing gang, up a hill and pushes her off a cliff. Boom. Dead. And here I am just following him to the unknown.
"Almost there doll." He says, looking back at me with a wink.
"Will you stop calling me that?" I spit out at him with as much venom in my tone as possible.
"Calling you what doll?"
I roll my eyes and groan, trying to keep up with his long strides. Literally one of his steps is two of mine. I'm basically jogging next to him and it's extremely frustrating.
The weather is actually really nice today, despite my damp mood. The sun is beaming, the birds are singing, and as much as I hate to admit it, it's actually really beautiful here. I wonder how he found this place given the short time we've been here although Derek, like me, prefers to be alone often. When you isolate yourself, you tend to find secluded spots where no one would find you so that you can have the rare opportunity to be alone. Derek is just a lot better at finding loner hideouts than I am.
"Why won't you just tell me what we're doing?!"
"Because. That's boring." He states, stressing the last bit dramatically. "You'll like it. Just go with the flow doll."
That nickname is really starting to bother me... mostly because when he says it the way he does, I get this little flutter in my stomach that's difficult to shake. Every time he says it it's almost mocking, and yet the look on his face is flirty. That uneven smirk never fails to showcase his dimples. It's like he knows it affects me. Like he has me right where he wants me.
"Alright come here." I look up at him but he moves behind me and all the sudden, his hands are over my eyes.
I go to remove them but he tightens his grip. "Uh uh uh princess. A surprise isn't a surprise if you see it before I can present it to you."
"I thought it was doll." I snap.
"Ah yes you are my doll but if I keep calling you the same thing all the time, the name gets boring." He chuckles in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
"There you go with that word again." I say as I try not to stumble on my own feet.
"I use that word on a regular basis. Mostly because many things bore me."
