My eyes flutter open as blurred colors turn into clear objects of my bedroom. What time is it? I don't remember even falling asleep. I turn to my side and read my clock.

8 am. Shit.

I scramble out of bed and quickly wash my face, brush my hair, and pull on a pair of jeggings and an army green shirt that falls loosely off my shoulder. I dab on a little makeup, and in a matter of 5 minutes, I'm running down the stairs and out the door.

"Would you like some--?"

"Not now mom! Gotta go!"

I pull up to the school parking lot in my old red Nisan with 7 minutes to spare. A sigh of relief escapes my lips. I may usually take awhile to get ready--this morning as an exception--but I'm never late.

Stepping out of my car, I power walk through the parking lot, passing the occasional face-sucking couple or ego-hungry jocks comparing their muscles in a circle, like it's a ritual or something. But at least the weather is nice; I can feel a warm breeze graze my face and play with my hair. The trees dance with the breeze, and the birds chirp a spring melody.

I pull myself from my day dream, realizing I have Physics 1st hour; I cannot risk being late. I pick up the pace. However, my plans are changed as I'm ripped off the stairs and swiftly pulled into an alley way in between two co joining school buildings. I clench my eyes shut and start to scream, but my mouth is quickly silenced by a large hand.

"Shut it, clutz."

My eyes shoot open and my face cringes in disgust as a pair of stabbing green eyes cut through me.

"Mmmgmgmd" I mumble, unable to get anything out clearly.

"Hmm what was that? I can't hear you love." Damon mutters with a trace of foreboding laced within his breath.

I stare blankly at him, trying to look completely apathetic. He removes his hand, but keeps me pinned by my wrists.

"What in God's name do you think you're doing?" I ask.

"Making you late," he replies with a snicker.

"Why?"

"Because I can."

"You're an ass."

"Again with the mouth," he chuckles, leaning in closer.

My breath hitches as his teeth graze my neck. I try to free myself but there's no use.

"Let me go...please," I vomit out the please.

"That's better," he releases me, "White."

"It's Scarlett."

"It's whatever."

Damon glares at me and this is the first time I actually notice him fully. He's wearing a grey Pink Floyd shirt that hugs his chest, exposing his toned body, a dark blue plaid flannel, and black jeans. The light reflects off his face, casting a shadow on half of it. His wavy dark hair flops to one side as he cocks his head.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asks.

"Don't you wish," I spit back at him.

I turn on my heel and walk off. I can hear his chuckle as I'm leaving, but I don't look back. Damn it he really is attractive, but his awful attitude ruins it. I look down at my iPhone.

8:35. I loathe him.

•••••••••••••••••

The lunch bell rings and I exit my 4th hour. I walk down the hallway, consumed in my thoughts. Students everywhere surround me, but I feel like I'm alone, like my footsteps are louder. TAP TAP TAP, my combat boots resound through the hall, bouncing off the walls. Why me? Why did he chose to mess with me? This has got to be some unknown karma I'm paying for.

I watch the black lockers pass by until I finally reach the end and exit the school. I find Rachel and we head out to Arby's. Rachel looks great today; her thick auburn hair is extra curly and the recent sun has enhanced her freckles and darkened her skin. Spring suits her.

We order our food, and I begin to explain this morning's experience to her.

"I can't really tell if he's just a jerk, or into you," Rachel states.

"Of course he's not into me! He just enjoys tormenting me. I think he's mainly doing it now since I hit him yesterday..."

"Yeah that probably wasn't your smartest move," Rachel giggles.

"It's not funny!"

"Oh yes it is."

"I hate you," I say as I'm trying to stifle my laughter, but it's no use. Soon, we're both cracking up.

I walk up the stairs towards my math class, dreading each step. Mr. Garrison is standing outside the door; I nod to him to say hello before walking inside. I look up to find that Damon isn't here, or at least not yet.

I rest my backpack on the floor beside my desk, turn to my friend Leila, and start discussing our baseball team's latest game. A couple minutes later the bell rings and Mr. Garrison starts to teach about how to solve for derivatives implicitly. The clock ticks by--five minutes, ten minutes--then, the door creaks open. I glance to my right to see Damon casually enter.

Mr. Garrison's squeaking on the white board stops, "Where have you been?"

"I got held up," Damon replies and hands him a tardy slip.

Damon heads over to his desk behind mine while I avoid eye contact at all cost. However, I can see him out of my peripheral vision. He looks down at me, and smirks. We start our class work again and I soon forget about the evil aura sitting behind me.

Warm air hits my exposed shoulder and I spin around. Damon is leaning over his desk and peeks up at me through his lashes.

"I like this shirt."

He slowly lifts his hand and hovers it over me. His nail starts a journey from the top of my collarbone to the end of my shoulder.

"You quite finished yet?" I ask with a blank face even though goose-bumps have secretly consumed my body.

"Not particularly," he whispers. Damon suddenly digs his nail into my shoulder.

"Ow!"

Everyone turns and looks at me; I can feel my face deepening a few shades.

"Is there a problem, Scarlett?" Mr. Garrison asks.

"Not at all."

Once everyone goes back to working I turn my head and mouth 'bastard' to Damon. He snickers and replies with a crooked smile, revealing some of his white teeth.

After the bell rings, I get up from my desk and head for my next hour. As I'm walking to the classroom, my friend Eric walks up with a big toothy grin.

"Hey!" I smile broadly.

"Aye, Red what's up?"

Ever since we met in middle school, he's called me that. He always finds some kind of nickname for his friends. And he thought 'red' was an appropriate rendition of 'Scarlett'.

"Nothing, typical school day," I lie, "you?"

"Same. Hey you got plans for spring break yet?"

"When do I ever have plans?"

Eric laughs, "True, but seriously, everyone's going to the lake for a few days and camping out. You should totally come!"

It does sound fun, "I'll think about--."

"Whatcha two talking about, lake trip?"

Damon's arm drapes over my shoulder.

"Hmm nope, I don't think I remember inviting you into the conversation," I say glaring at him. He just smirks.

"Red, you're too harsh. Hey Damon, wanna go to the lake next week? Everyone's gonna be there."

"Ooo I wish I could, but I have plans next week."

Damon won't be there? I feel as if the heavens have opened up and the angels have descended singing praises.

Damon turns to leave, and I pipe up.

"Eric, count me in."

I hear Damon pause for a split second, then he resumes his tread down the hallway.

Eric shows his bright toothy smile, "Great! I have to go, see ya!"

After two more long hours, the final bell rings and I make my way outside. I head over to my car, kicking the gravel on the way. Once I reach my car I grab my keys, but they slip from my fingers and clatter against the ground. Sighing, I bend down and reach for them, but a grey converse steps on top first. I don't even look up.

"Damon, get off my keys, or I swear I'll—"

"Just making sure you don't lose them in the gravel. Why are you so quick to assume the worst of me?" He asks playfully.

I stand erect and look at him, "Because I can," I throw his words back at him.

His green eyes darken. Oh.

"C'mon. We're going out."

Huh?

Damon grabs my wrist and starts dragging me towards a black mustang.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Damon Black: the guy you slapped yesterday, remember? You have some transgressions to pay up on."

I struggle, but his single grip is stronger than my whole body, which only makes me madder. Next thing I know, we are in his car.

Then, we're off.