I pushed through the double doors of the high school hallway, hoping and praying that this wouldn't be a replay the last couple of days. As I made my way to my locker, guess who was blocking it again? Two words, four syllables. Give up?

Jeremy Arche was back at it again. I hadn't tracked how often he had done this, only for his sake. The backhanded bitch slap was coming soon, which meant he was in serious trouble. That, unfortunately, sounded more like a gymnastics routine in my head and was very unsatisfying for me because Jeremy could do gymnastics, and I couldn't, so I left my bitch slapping fantasies for yet another day as I approached my locker.

"Hello," he cooed, sliding his hands down the door. I held myself back as I mused with the guy for a moment.

"Jeremy," I sternly spoke, grabbing his hand from the tiny little door. His hand slipped from my locker as he faked a yawn.

"Oh, my dear, Emily. People usually have to ask to touch me; however, I'll make an exception for you."

"You're disgusting, Jeremy," I nearly yelled. I wedged between him, but his swift, many fingers slid between my fingertips as I reached for my lock.

"Not so fast, punky," he growled, covering the lock with his enormous left hand.

"What did he call me?" I thought.

I bowed my head, and my teeth ground together as I prayed to the Norse gods I wouldn't attack.

"What, Jeremy?" I asked, leaning against the locker. His eyes lit up as his right hand slid against my shoulder, and I shivered, stepping back.

"Before you open your locker, I want you to do something for me."

"Great." I thought I said that in my head, but unfortunately, that word had escaped. "Shit," I mumbled again.

"Oh, Emily, it will be fun." He said; his hand left my lock as he swept his hands through my dark hair. I could smell his morning breath, and it wasn't pretty.

"Jeremy..." I said, catching him off guard as he leaned in closer. "Brush your damn teeth."

He grimaced, pulling back. I grinned, grabbed my lock before he could, and bounced through the combination so he couldn't figure it out alone.

"My precious Emily," he spoke again. "Don't fuck with me like that again."

He wandered off, and I reached into my locker, grabbing whatever I needed right as the bell rang, and I slammed my locker, forgetting to lock it as I walked off.

✽✽✽

Mr. Davis stood at the other end of the hallway, glancing at me like a hawk, scoping out his next victim, except I was that victim. As I attempted a disappearing Houdini act in the girls' restroom, dorkis appeared behind me, which was quite the opposite of what I was trying to achieve—total invisibility.

"Hey, Emily," his voice echoed. I turned to face him, his amazing hot minty breath tangoing with his chapped lips and brushing over mine. With confidence, I pulled back with my hands against his chiseled chest as I stumbled on my heels, collapsing with his arms reaching out to cradle me in bridal style. We were halfway in the bathroom and out, and his pretty, soft, dark ocean-blue eyes glanced down at me.

I didn't dare look up into his ocean-blue eyes. It was a death wish. A few brief words to describe what happened at that moment would have been awkward and hot.

My heart thumped as my speechless lips suddenly muttered, "Fuck me."

Aaron's eyes widened as he pulled me to my feet, but gravity caused me to trip. His hands caught me again as I worked out the balancing act like I was trying to learn to walk for the first time. He nervously licked his teeth, still gripping me awkwardly.

"What did you just say?" He mumbled. I went over multiple scenarios to escape that moment but had nothing. However, I got lucky because Mr. Davis jumped into the conversation as Aaron dropped me to the floor.

"Mother fucker," I mumbled, pulling myself to my feet as I rubbed at the very spot that formed a small lump on my head. His blue eyes dilated, and he cleared his throat and weaved his fresh hands with mine. I was reluctant to remove my hand from him, but it never happened.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Chanson?" What Mr. Davis meant by that was she bothering you, but instead of expressing what he wanted to, he suppressed it with code.

"No, I was... I needed to talk to her about something."

"Good, I need to speak with her about something," Mr. Davis replied, with a plump lip and arms against his chest. As I walked with Mr. Davis to his office, we said nothing, Aaron trudging behind.

"Mr. Chanson, I don't need you in this conversation, but if you care to join, I suppose you are my number one witness..." Mr. Davis trailed off as Aaron shrugged his shoulders, plopping down in the seat beside mine.

"Ms. Emily Hart," Mr. Davis continued. "As you know, you are late to class," he muttered, the last part under his breath as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "However, that does not concern me at the moment. What does concern me is your lack of expressing yourself for the truth." Really? Is the man that deep in his paperwork?

"But, many students attending Payton High were a good witness to how they left the cafeteria the other day, including Aaron, and as much as I don't want to believe. I have brought you here because you were not fully responsible for the cafeteria disaster." My jaw dropped, and I glanced at Aaron. His lips tugged as a grin formed, and Mr. Davis continued. "Although I have multiple witnesses giving insight on what happened, what I would like to do, although you are only partially guilty, is place you with the book club until I see fit." What? I screamed in my head before it escaped my lips.

"But why?" Aaron seemed very uncomfortable, adjusting his seat, but he cleared his throat with sudden confidence as he spoke.

"I agree. I think that would be a wonderful opportunity for you, Emily. Think about it."

Oh, I'll think about it, alright. I rose from my chair with a burst of adrenaline-pumping my veined fists, but I held them in politely as I mumbled four words.

"Fine, I'll do it," I muttered, regretting every syllable that left my mouth.

"Great, Emily, glad to hear it." I heard Davis respond. I rolled my eyes. Great. "In the meantime, I have a meeting to attend, and Aaron tells me you two have plans to make for tonight so I will need both of you out of my office." He rushed us out with a swish of a hand flick before bringing his foaming cup of coffee to his lips.