Wrong Place. Wrong Time. Right Guy.
◇Highest Rank: #1 in Teen Fiction, #1 in New Girl, #2 in Thriller, #5 in Featured, #5 in Bad Boy◇
(TwistClichè)
This book is published. What you read here is part of the first draft of the story. The fully edited...
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"Can I talk to you?" Drew asked, his expression unreadable.
"You want to talk to me?" I scoffed, wondering if I was imagining things.
"That's what I said, isn't it?" he sassed, disdain making his words come across harshly.
I thought about entertaining whatever he had to say, but realized I didn't owe him anything. I apologized, and would rather eat my fries with my one good hand than hear his snide comments.
"No thanks, I'm good," I shrugged, turning back around in my seat.
I didn't expect Lauren to be shooting me daggers when I looked at her though, that's for sure.
"What?" I asked her nonchalantly, already putting another fry in my mouth.
"Talk to him! It would make everything easier for me and Riley if you two got along," she urged.
I couldn't believe she was making me do this. Didn't she see that me and him just weren't meant to be friends? But, despite my better judgement, I caved in to Lauren's request and turned back to face the handsome ogre behind me.
"Fine," I grumbled with a sigh. "What do you have to say?"
"Not here. Follow me," he said, still unreadable.
"Not here. Follow me," I mocked in a caveman voice.
I heard the twins trying to keep their giggles quiet because of the impression I did, which made a smirk form on my lips. At least they were laughing, because Lauren was not amused.
"Will you grow up and just follow me?!"
"Pft, you expect me to abandon my lunch and follow you where? To my grave?!" I questioned, not interested in leaving the table.
Unfortunately, Lauren still did not seem to find my antics amusing.
"Okay, okay, I'm going," I said, which put a smile on her face.
When I turned around, Drew was already walking toward the hallway. I quickly grabbed my sandwich before following after him.
Once in the hall, I saw Drew standing by the front entrance, waiting. He didn't look very approachable, but he called me out here, so I walked up to him; and I took my sweet precious time doing it.
"You couldn't stop eating for five minutes so I could talk to you?" he asked rudely.
"I could, if it was for someone I liked," I mumbled, biting into my sandwich and looking at the bulletin board on the wall.
I waited for him to say something next, but he didn't. Confused, I turn my attention back to him. He was bent over a bit, looking at my hand that held one side of my sandwich; the hand that I punched Jeremy with.
