Playing With the King (SAMPLE)

Ah, Yes, Vomit and Posh Boys

My heart was pounding in my ears. Here I was, standing in a uniform that was too big and getting embarrassed for no reason. I couldn't stop replaying all events from earlier over and over again in my head.

"Would you care to introduce yourself to the class?" He inquired, motioning for me to step into the threshold rather than standing in the doorway.

I stepped in, a light blush painting my cheeks a shade of crimson. "Um, uh, y-yeah. My name's Finn, uh, Finn Green."

"Well, Finn, take a seat in the open desk back there." Just when I thought my life couldn't become any more like a novel. The seat is in front of the man who had pinned me up against the wall of lockers.

With an internal groan, I made my way toward the open seat near the back. It was clearly just my social anxiety, but it felt as though ever had their eyes trained on me. I slid into the desk, setting my bag on the floor.

I can feel his eyes on me. His gaze makes it increasingly difficult to listen to Mr. Martin lecturing on the foreign policies of France.

"You're practically swimming in that uniform." His lips brushed my ear as he whispered his insult.

"Shut up," I breathed out through clenched teeth.

"Oh, your stutter's gone. I guess I don't make you as nervous as you were standing in front of the whole class introducing yourself like a kindergartener. I could change that," He whispered before letting out a light chuckle.

"N-no thank y-you." There the stutter is. I can feel my cheeks burning as a glance around the room. It feels like they're all watching my every move. I feel like they're watching every move my body has to his words and the reactions I'm having to his lips as they brush my ear.

"Oh, the stutter's back." He laughs lowly.

"Leave m-me alone," I whisper.

"It's a wonder that I have this much effect on you, and you don't even know my name." It's official, I hate his laugh.

"I d-don't need to know your name, to know you annoy the shit outta me." I bite back. I know I should ignore him, but my sass gets the best of me.

"I didn't realize annoy was synonymous with you admitting that I turn you on," I glance back at him. A smirk was spread across his smug face, and a blush spreads across mine.

"No, you really don't." It didn't matter if I found him incredibly hot, but his personality soiled any semblance of attractiveness.

"Oh, yeah?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow up.

"Yeah," I answered, turning back around.

"Here." He slipped a piece of paper with a phone number and an address on it over my shoulder. It landed on the desk.

"T-thanks," I mumbled.

Folding the paper, I slipped it into my bag. The blush was left on my face as I listened to the sound of him leaning back in his chair. My heart was beating incredibly fast. I tried doing breathing exercises to calm down, needless to say, it didn't work well.

Once I finally calmed myself, I directed my attention back onto whatever Mr. Martin had been talking about. While I was lost on the concept of France's foreign policy, I was at least able to pretend I knew what was going on. The only thing I knew about French anything was that Layfette in Hamilton was hot, and frankly, that's all I wanted to know.

Before I knew it, the bell was ringing. I was on my way to Algebra 2. I was horrible at math, but at least he wasn't in this class. After that, the rest of my classes breezed by until I was at lunch. The other courses I had before lunch were, as follows, Art, English, and Choir.

Then I was left with the dilemma of where exactly I should sit. Shit. I found an empty table and sat alone.

A tray was set down in front of me on the table. "Mind if I sit?" I looked up at the owner of the tray. He was short but still taller than me. The boy had red hair and freckles dotting his pale face. His uniform was untucked, and he looked sloppy.

"Um, yeah, sure." I smiled up at him, poking around at the food on my plate.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" He asked, looking down at his plate with distaste evident in his features.

I laughed, "Honestly, I've had worse."

"Ah yes, I can only imagine that death trap that is public school lunches." He said with a joyful tone.

"It's like eating vomit, but it's whatever." That was true, but I had qualified for free lunches, so vomit was generally better than not eating.

"So what made you hop off the hell train of public school," He switched to a British accent as he said, "and hop on the posh path of private education?" The boy asked.

Me, being the liar that I am, answered with, "I was just ready for a change of pace." Which wasn't entirely untrue as I had yearned for a bully-free education for years.

"Well, I, Gerald Hanson, do humbly welcome you to our establishment," He spoke once again with a British accent, making me laugh. Gerald stuck his hand out, presumably an invitation to shake hands.

I smiled, taking his hand. "Well, I, Finn Green, do humbly accept your welcoming." Gerald sat down as if only now realizing that he had been standing throughout the entirety of our exchange.

"Also, I mean no disrespect, man, but you have got to get a uniform that fits you. You really be looking like you pulled that outfit straight outta Goodwill," He said, starting to shovel food into his mouth.

What I wanted to say was something along the lines of, "A) What was wrong with Goodwill. I do a fair amount of shopping there. And B) I'm aware I look like Harry Potter swimming in these massive clothes."

However, what I actually said was more of a shy, "Oh, uh, yeah, they are doing my uniform fitting Monday. This is just an extra, so it doesn't really fit at all."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Gerald deadpans.

"Ha, ha, very funny," I reply in the same tone.

"So, how's your first day been treating ya?" He asked.

I could have responded by telling him I got assaulted, but it's okay because I kinda liked it. Instead, I choose the safer option of saying, "Oh, it's been fine. I've only had one person be mean."

"I can only assume that was Mateo," Gerald told me with a sigh. "He's lowkey a dick."

"While I cannot verify that that is his name, I can say that he is for sure a dick." Gerald's eyes widened at something behind me.

"I'm a little hurt that you don't know my name but still think I'm a dick," said a husky whisper in my left ear.  

Almost Christmas time! Get ready for sadness in your stocking!