"Class Gingkgoales, Sir. They are very rare and are deciduous with fan like leaves."
"Well answered Robin," Mr. Charles nods appreciatively.
My Biology Teacher scribbles some more stuff on the board, explaining to the class the characteristics of what I just said.
I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose, not that it needed to be fixed, I wanted to pretend as if majority of the class aren't glaring at me. That was another problem to deal with, right now I needed to empty my bladder.
I clench my thighs taking in a sharp breath, I zone out again, glancing at the at the clock hanging on the wall across the room. Two more minutes!
Does AP Biology always take this long? I really need the bathroom or I'll explode.
I'm never drinking any liquid stuff again. Not even water.
Okay the last part is definitely a lie. Dang, I'm going to Starbucks right after school!
A few more seconds and a familiar annoying sound reaches my ear.
Darting out of class I push pass the people in front of me muttering apologies profusely, a lot of them pushing me away while most of them just try to stay as far as possible from me. It hurts, everything hurts including my life but like I said, that's another problem.
Letting out a breathe of relief once I land my butt on the toilet seat. Once I'm done with my business I walk out and I smile widely when I see my friends waiting for me already.
"My very best humans" I smile hugging them both.
"You have to control your bladder, go for surgery or visit a private surgeon or maybe show up on botch, do whatever you go want but get medical assistance," Paige complains pushing red hair out of her face.
"What she said," Claire nods jerking her thumb at Paige.
"Sorry." I apologize meekly.
Claire rolls her eyes folding the sleeves of my oversized hoodie.
"You don't have to apologize for being unable to hold your urine inside you Rob," she said folding the over sleeve.
"You just have to cut off a little amount of Starbucks from your Daily dosage!" Paige said bringing her thumb and index finger very close to show how 'little' she's talking about.
"I'll try, so which one of you has my iced tea?" I ask pushing aside the fact that they're complaining about my running bladder.
"I give up!" Paige throws her hands in the air before taking a takeaway cup out from her bag and handing it to me.
"You let it get cold!" I gasp dramatically as soon as my fingers make contact with the styrofoam cup.
"Well I'm sorry I couldn't keep your iced tea hot!" she says rolling her eyes.
"What's last period Claire?" I ask ignoring her rant.
"We have Chemistry together, well except you Paige you're taking English" Claire points out making Paige roll her eyes again.
"I think your eyes are going to get tired." I tell her, and she's about to roll her eyes again but she stops and glares at me.
"Violent much" Claire chuckles.
"She's so cute" I coo making the corners of her lips tug upwards a little.
"I'll see you guys in a bit." she finally smiles giving us a hug before taking her route.
"So it's me and you then chicka" Claire says wiggling her eyes at me who is giving her the: annoy-me-and-i'll-strangle-you-to-death look.
I shrug my backpack and take off the cap on my cup and start gulping down my drink.
I'm Robin Adriana Carson and I'm a girl. I love Starbucks with all my dusty heart and also my friends. I was and still am a nerd, people hate me. I hate me too. Paige and Claire are my only friends, they never left even after the big disaster happened. I'm shy, indecisive, unworthy of my presence and my friends say I'm clumsy too, which is a total lie. I don't talk to people and they don't talk to me too, not anymore. Has anyone ever told you that dead girls don't die? Dude it's a total lie! I mean I'm a dead person alive which kinda proves what I said right but apart from being alive I can't even live again. Do you get what I'm saying?
Long story short, I'm an introvert.
"Claire have you h—" my words die on my tongue when I bump into a someone causing me to stumble forward.
If I break my nose I'm surely showing up on botched.
Strong arms wrap my around my waist stopping me from faceplanting and embarrassing the remaining dignity I have inside of me, I'm about to thank the person when I hear a dripping sounds as if there was a leaking tap at the middle of the hall way, then I hear Claire gasp loudly.
Is she peeing in her pants?
I was about to ask her that when I feel liquid splatter on my bare legs. I look down and see my very soft yellow uggs stained with brown flecks and my ankle is also dripping which also brought me to the realization that I spilled my drink!
But that didn't get me rilled up, the shoes standing in front of me did. From every corner of his extremely white sneakers there's coffee stain and the worst part is that it poured straight on top of it.
"D-uhm..I r-really-this w-was a-um—" my voice gets caught up in my throat when I look at the victim, my breath hitches and my eyes stretch till they're wide enough to see my back. It's him!
Dylan Cooper.
His green orbs boring straight into my grey ones. His face is void of any emotion and his lips are set in a straight line. His face would've probably been on fire now if not for the fact that his ebony skin prevents it, but the way his palms automatically ball up into a fist gives away that he's furious.
This is Dylan Cooper, he's not the particular bad boy that's just Kyle Marshall. Dylan is the Lord of the streets. Rumors have been spread that he has been in and out of Juvie and that he races, others say he's a drug dealer while some believe that he's just a person that survived the mafia. I believe all of them though, but what we do know is that Dylan doesn't talk.... to girls. It has been confirmed that no girl in Crestview High has ever heard his voice before, ever.
"I'm so sorry Davi-Dys- uh Dylan." I stutter carelessly, my cheeks raising a fire alarm.
His jaw ticks and he really looked frustrated as if he was going to yell at me and tell me to fuck off but instead he just sighs and runs his fingers through his looong curly hair. They look so soft making me wonder what shampoo he uses.
There are serious matters at hand Robin! Not his soft curly brown amaz.... Ok seriously quit dreaming about hair.
"I think we should go" Claire whispers tugging at my sweater.
"Well he hasn't answered my apologies yet," I whisper a little bit too loud.
"Yet! It's not like he's ever going to talk...to you! You're a girl," she whisper shouts causing his eyes snap from me to her.
That makes her squeal quietly and she jumps behind me as if I'm going to hide her with my 5'2 frame.
His eyes find mine again, his eyes are the faintest shade of green ever. A curl falls on his forehead and it takes me my whole soul for me not to reach out and tuck it with the rest of his gorgeous thick hair. He takes a step forward invading my personal space.
Is that vanilla that I smell?
Out of habit I bring my wrist to my lips and chew on the sleeves of my hoodie nervously.
He is now hovering over me and I look at anywhere but the tall figure in front of me. My hoodie tastes like bubble gum too.
"Um- Ms. McCray would be v-very unhappy if w-we show up l-late to her class a-and I really need to a-a-sk a lot of um q-que—" I stutter hopelessly looking at every random object in the hallway, relief washes over me as he raises his hand shutting me up, thank God! Even I hate it when I talk. He just tilts his head to the side as if he's trying to figure me out while I just stand there with sweaty palms and a chewed sleeve. He does this for like four more seconds before he nods.
"I think that's our cue," I squeak grabbing Claire's hand and we practically run to class. I look back and find him smirking at me, no, it has to be Claire. Nonetheless his face is expressionless.
