"Did you miss me, Princess?"
That voice, only slightly deeper, swept over me, causing me to shrink back, and nearly scream.
"That's not an answer." He grabs my chin, and forces me to look up at him, from his shaggy black hair, into his blue ocean eyes. "Now answer me. Did. You. Miss. Me?"
I jerk my head back, and cast my eyes down to the tiled floors of the English wing. "No."
I look up at him, hesitantly. He just smirks and crosses his arms.
I look at him for a second. He has on black converses, dark jeans, and a white tee with a leather jacket on.
"You checkin' me out, Bea?" I hear the amusement in his voice.
"N..no." I whisper, looking at my shoes.
"You sure? Because I got hot." He smirks.
"Leave me alone." I yank away.
"Never." He grabs my arms, and yanks me into a random classroom. "Your gonna hate me for this."
I yell as the door closes.
A short chapter Dedicated to IsabellaSpangenberg for commenting, and voting.
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My Possessive Bully
Teen FictionThey hated each other since they were kids. Shane Brontë was the boy who made fun of her hair in kindergarten. He laughed when she scrapped her knee when she fell in fifth grade. And he moved away when they were in seventh grade, saying one last thi...
