Miss Matched // Thomas Sangster Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Four - A Bad Boy

The smell of detergent, bleach, and other cleaning chemicals fills Thomas's nose as he putters around the basement laundry room. It's been a quiet Sunday, which meant it was a good day to get some laundry done. He knew that plenty of the students here would happily start a load of laundry and leave it unsupervised to wash as they took naps or strolled around the school grounds, but Thomas thought the idea of leaving his clothes alone in a semi-public space was unsettling.

He knew too many people were likely to do strange or suspicious things with his clothing if they got their hands on them. He didn't like to think about it.

Instead, he sat in the dingy, gloomy laundry room. His mind was far from the basement washroom, however. Currently, he had ideas of D&D swimming through his head. He'd been enjoying the game so far. Granted, it helped that the girl he had feelings for was there too. Plus, his Tortle Druid was a pretty cool character to be playing.

The door to the laundry room opens, and in steps the girl named Libby. Her hair is in its usual two plaits, and she's wearing a lacey dress and lip gloss on her pouty mouth. She's carrying a basket full of laundry in her arms, and doesn't notice Thomas at first. He hopes for a few moments that she won't notice him, but in the empty laundry room, he's only too obvious.

She pauses when she sees him. A smug, flirtatious smirk crosses her face as she saunters over to one of the washers. As she pushes her clothes in the washer, she keeps casting smoldering looks over her shoulder at Thomas. It's obvious that she is checking him out. Thomas smiles awkwardly back at her, uncomfortable with her forward attitude.

When she has started her load of laundry, she straightens and smooths out her dress. She casts Thomas sexy eyes again. Then she moves towards him, swaying her hips with each step.

"Fancy seeing you here, Thomas," she says in a low, seductive voice.

"Hi, Libby," Thomas says, shuffling backwards slightly to put some space between him and Libby.

She seems to be drinking in his appearance, undressing him with her eyes as she says, "Aren't you lonely down here?"

"No," Thomas says a little too quickly.

Libby smiles at him, "That wasn't very convincing."

Thomas clears his throat, muttering, "I'm fine by myself, thanks. It's...peaceful."

Her smile turns into a laugh, "Peaceful. I see."

Unsure what he should do or say now, Thomas gives her another painfully awkward smile. He wishes she would just go away. Or stop being so weird with him. In all his days, he didn't think he would understand why some women would treat him like this. It was humiliating for them both.

"I saw you helping Fleur the other night at the dance," Libby starts, stepping closer to him once more. "It was really sweet of you to look out for her. Of course, everyone in his school has tiptoed around her since her parents died, but it was nice to see that you have a very sensitive side."

Thomas furrows his eyebrows, unsure where this conversation is coming from, "I'd like to think that what you call a sensitive side is just being a decent person."

She shrugs, and says in a skeptical voice, "Babe, let me tell you something. My parents got divorced about a year ago. Very bitter time for everyone. If their divorce has taught me anything, it's that there aren't many decent people in the world."

With a frown, he mutters, "Well, that's very cynical."

"Life does that to you," Libby delivers without hesitation. "But, what impressed me about your...sensitivity, decency - whatever you want to call it - is that you seem to try to paint yourself as a bit of a bad boy."