"Rachel, have you seen my curling iron?" I yell across the room.

"Didn't you leave it in your locker?" she replies back, "I told you you'd need it Scarlett," she says in a matter-of-fact tone.

I peek my head out of the bathroom door and stare at her blankly, "Oh shut up."

I return to the mirror, furiously trying to style my straight brown hair. It's always straight; I don't know why I even try to force it otherwise. My blue eyes shine out against my reflection. They seem brighter today than usual. Possibly because it's almost spring break and a well deserved break at that.

Rachel's voice brings me back to the present, "Are you almost done? We have to leave soon or we'll be late!" Rachel had stayed over since we had a project to get done, but she's so damn punctual I can't leisurely get ready like usual.

I look back once more and throw my hands out, giving up on my stubborn hair. It falls to its naturally parted position on the side while my white tank bounces slightly. I slip on some shoes then call out, "Ready!"

Once we reach school, we part ways and head to each of our classes. I walk with a group a girls; they talk and I laugh at the appropriate times, but my distracted mind focuses on the never-ending rows of lockers we pass. The five minute bell rings, and it isn't until I noticed a small sign saying "room 209" that I realize just how far away from my class I've walked.

"Damn it," I hiss under my breath.

With a wave goodbye, I dash in the opposite direction, walking exceptionally fast to make the bell. I watch as the students around me quickly dissipate, filling up classrooms and widening the halls. Rounding the corner to my room, my quick pace is halted as I'm knocked off my feet. I rub my head as I try to grab the binder that fell with me. A throat clears with an annoyed cough to which finally grabs my attention upwards.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," I stutter as I glance up. A tall figure looms over me. His loose white v-neck sways as he shifts in his outrageously tight black jeans. He looks down at me with sharp green eyes, bland amusement resonates off his face. A mop of dark hair flips over as he cocks his head to one side.

"I recommend glasses."

He steps over me and stalks off, leaving me baffled. I want to chase after him and give him a piece of my mind, but I have a bell to catch; instead, I rise, grab my things, and choose to brood to myself in my first period desk.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The bell rings, releasing us from 4th hour, and I navigate my way through the traffic to the doors for lunch. I find Rachel and we head out. Once we're seated and eating, hamburger in hand, I start telling her about my day and my earlier encounter.

"He didn't even help you up?" She asks, shocked.

"No! He just casually walked off like I didn't even exist."

"Rude, what does he look like again?"

"He has green eyes and dark wavy hair, not really short but not long either. From where I was sitting, he looked tall. He has this 'I think I'm a bad ass' look about him."

She laughs at my joke, "I think I've seen him before, I don't know his name though. He has to be new."

"I've never seen him," I reply and shrug it off while picking at my fries.

We get back to school a little early, so we stay in the car, the time slowly slipping away. After realizing just how long we had relaxed, we rush inside, half jogging through the decorated halls. Yelling a parting goodbye to each other, we split down two separate halls. I slide in front of my Calculus class and reach for the doorknob. The shrill tardy bell rings right upon entering, and a sigh of relief escapes my lips as I rest my hands on my knees. I look up, only to have that breath sucked right back in. Sitting at a desk talking to someone across from him is the new guy from before. I gape before I walk over to my math teacher, Mr. Garrison, to investigate.

"Hey, uhm, who's the new kid?" I nod in his direction.

"That's Damon Black," he responds, "When he transferred here he was put into regular math; however, he's done so well they moved him into the AP course."

Damon Black? Well I'm Scarlett White. Oh, the irony.

I shuffle over to my seat and start talking to a friend besides me. I glance over in Damon's direction; his eyes connect with mine for a moment before he returns to his conversation. He must not recognize me, I think to myself. Although I'm still a little annoyed from earlier, I decide to dismiss what happened and move on. It's not a terribly big deal, and it's also not like we're going to be talking to each other either; he sits clear across the room, and I don't plan on making an effort to introduce myself. However, he is pretty easy on the eyes, so I decide to sneak another peak. I shift my gaze back over to Damon's seat, but to my surprise he's no longer there. I face the front of my room and look towards Mr. Garrison's desk; Damon's not with him. Where the hell could he have gone in only a couple of minutes?

I hear the shuffling sound of a body sliding into the desk behind me. With a "thump," I hear a bag drop to the floor, and then I feel my desk shift slightly as two feet prop up onto the basket underneath my chair. My body stiffens. No, it can't be, I wonder. I start up a conversation with a girl to my left so I can look back. Sure enough, Damon is leisurely leaning back behind me.

Throughout my entire conversation about last night's homework, I can feel his lingering stare. Uncomfortable, I sway back in my seat, facing the front again. Mr. Garrison finally stands and begins to talk. He's mentioning something about new calculators, but I can't seem to pay any attention. It's as if I can feel Damon's eyes burning a hole into the back of my head. Then, suddenly, he tugs a piece of my hair.

"Hey! What do you think--?"

"Now I know why you look familiar, nice to see you again, clutz."

Damon stares with mock amusement, his mouth set in a slight half-smile, enjoying some internal joke.

Trying not to make a scene, I whisper back, "I'm not a clutz, and I have a name."

"Oh really? Do tell. I'm so intrigued."

The arrogance in his mocking tone makes me sick, and it takes all my will power to simply turn around. However, he tugs again, but this time his fingers stay intertwined in my hair.

"Let go!"

"In a second," he hums, leaning in closer, "What's your name?"

His face is too close and I tense, unpleasant shivers shoot down my spine. I finally find my words.

"Let. Go."

"Not until you tell me your name."

"Scarlett White."

"White? Interesting. Why is your name two colors? That's stupid."

It seems as though the more he talks, the more pissed I become. He lets go of my hair, and I spin back around in my chair. For the first time, I notice that no one else is in the room. Where did everyone go? I look behind me; Damon is the only one here. He crosses his arms over his chest, looking amused.

Reading my mind, he says, "Everyone just left to collect the new room supplies. You must've been preoccupied."

"More like I was harassed," I accuse while rising to my feet.

Before he could say anything else, I am out the door and heading to the supply room. I have never, ever, in my life met someone so outlandishly rude and cocky. I was so concentrated on my internal hatred rant that I didn't even notice my teacher trying to speak to me.

"Scarlett? Scarlett!"

"Huh? Oh! Sorry, did you need something Mr. Garrison?"

"What took you so long?"

"I got held up."

"Oh, well could you go back to my room and grab the keys off my desk? The supply closest is locked."

My stomach flips, please anywhere but there.

No no no, "Sure!"

I timidly make my way back to the classroom. Once I'm outside the door, I dip my head inside, and exhale with relief: he's already left. I walk over to the desk and pick up the keys resting on a stack of assignments.

"Back for more?"

I jump and a clang pierces the air as the keys fall from my hand and hit the floor. I turn around and see Damon sitting on a counter against the wall. He's leaning forward with his hands gripping the edge, accentuating his arms.

"No, I'm back for these keys," I say as I lean over to pick them up.

I hear his shoes hit the floor as he jumps off the counter and walk towards me. Once he's near, he squats down so that we're face-to-face. I look up after I grab the keys, my hair falling forward and blanketing most of my face. He smirks and tilts his head, his hair falling forward too. I make an annoyed noise in the back of my throat and stand up. He follows. Our distance decreased fast once he stood so I take a step back; however, Damon takes a step forward. I take one more back, but he only takes another step.

"What're you doing?" I ask while placing my foot behind me.

"What're you talking about?" he asks back while placing his foot in front of him.

"Don't play stupid."

I try to take another step back, but my butt presses up against the desk, halting me. Damon simply takes another step, making our distance closer than ever. He's gazes down at me playfully while I scrutinize him. He leans forward and places his hands on the desk so that I'm standing uncomfortably in between his arms. At this level, we're eye to eye.

"You're just too much fun to mess with," he jokes, his smile transforming into a glowing smirk.

My cheeks heat, but this time with anger. My tolerance has worn completely thin.

"Would you let me go?" I ask spitefully. I feel like a broken record.

He pushes off of the desk and takes a step back. Before I even realize what I'm doing, I slap him square across the cheek. Shock is plastered on his face, and I'm sure it is on mine too. I stand there in awe of what I just did. It was so sudden I'm not even sure I decided to do it but rather my indignation controlling me.

Steadily, Damon's face morphs from shocked to entertained. I immediately regret my action, but I'm not completely stupid; I race for the door like there's no tomorrow.

"You'll regret that!" I hear Damon yell as I'm running away.

Way ahead of you, I think as I pass by the supplies closet and chuck the keys at one of my classmates. I wait in the girl's bathroom, reading scrawled notes scattered across the walls, until the bell rings. I walk back to my math class to grab my things then finish out the rest of the school day. After the final bell rings, I spot Rachel and start dragging her towards her car. She looks puzzled so I give her an I'll-tell-you-later look, and then we jump inside.

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