bad boy•ethan morales✓

Two

Days later, I was sitting in Spanish class next to Ethan Morales again. Devi had confided in our group that she had gotten proof that Margot vandalized her car, and sent the girl to the principal's office.

She was forced to find some evidence since the principal let Margot off the hook earlier this week. I was sure that Devi was right, only because... who else would do this?

Margot had to be guilty.

Sure, lots of people thought Devi was crazy. But aside from Margot, no one was personally angry at Devi that I knew of. And Margot knew well that Ben would always have feelings for Devi.

Ethan clearly wasn't paying attention to their class. The Spanish teacher spoke to him in Spanish, suddenly alerting him to pick his head up.

"Nah, I'm good," he refused, sitting sideways at his desk in boredom.

He saw the stern look on the teacher's face and got up with a groan. Ethan was told to write his pets in Spanish on the board. He wrote that he had a few turtles.

"Ooo, he has turtles," Eleanor whispered.

Devi nodded, not paying attention because she was watching Ethan intensely. He threw the chalk down, walking back to his seat.

I was watching him too. How could you not? Even the way he lazily sat back down in his seat was attractive.

Both Devi and I gasped when we realized how he wrote his Ts. The person who had on vandalized Devi's car drew their Ts the same weird way he did.

Devi, who sat in front of Ethan, turned to him quickly.

"Hey, quick question. Did you happen to write stupid bitch on my car?"

Ethan laughed a little bit, and opened his mouth in realization. "Oh, was that your car? I thought it was the teacher's car. She gave me an F."

He shook his head. "Stupid bitch," he muttered.

The teacher started at him in disbelief. "En español Ethan."

"Sorry, perra estúpida," he repeated with a smirk. She was unbothered at this point, knowing that Ethan had no respect for anyone of authority.

Devi looked at him in disbelief, and so did I. I couldn't help but giggle a bit about him repeating what he said in Spanish.

The look the teacher held on her face was priceless. She definitely wanted to kick him out of the classroom.

I shook my head and any good thought about Ethan away. He was the one who vandalized my best friend's car and ruined her chances of going on the New York City trip.

If she had to pay for the damages on her car, she wouldn't have enough money saved to go on the trip. And Devi has been looking forward to it for a long time.

Devi ran out of the classroom, realizing that she had to tell the principal Margot was innocent as soon as she could. Because as much as she despised Margot, she didn't want her to get blamed for something she didn't do.

Ethan looked at her strangely, and then shrugged.

As soon as class ended, I looked for Ethan in the hallway. I was furious for Devi. I spotted him leaning against a wall, all of his jerk friends chatting behind him.

The worst part was that he didn't even seem to care that he ruined Devi's car, and maybe even the rest of her year.

His foot was on his skateboard, and I took a deep breath and marched over to him.

I took his skateboard from under him and he looked at me in disbelief. "What the-"

"You can't just write stupid bitch on other people's cars! That was my best friend, Devi's car!"

"Geez, I'm so sorry. Now can I have my skateboard back?" Ethan said sarcastically.

"No. You'll get it back when you fix Devi's car."

"So? I have like four more at home."

I hated that nothing I was saying had any control over him whatsoever. He was careless, at least he appeared that way.

I groaned in defeat. "Well you're not getting this one back! And you owe an apology to Devi!" I yelled.

He didn't look the slightest bit offended, or even scared. He just smirked at me, as if he was enjoying this.

Ethan moved closer, his friends backing up a bit. I sweated as his face was only inches from mine.

"What, are you gonna make me apologize to her? What are you going to do, sweetheart?"

I felt my face getting redder and redder until it was burning. "A lot," I said confidently.

"Really? I like when you act all angry. It's hot," he whispered.

We had only really talked a few days ago. When else had I acted angry? I tried to brush it off, figuring he was just trying to make me mad. And it was working.

He backed away, his friends looking at each other in the background. Flustered, I stormed out of the building, his skateboard in my hand.

What a jerk. A hot one.