Bad Boy Chemistry

2. French Word for D*ckhead!

Charlie's POV

He smelled like cigarettes and coffee.

He seemed to like the color black, that was obvious.

He had a visible tattoo on the back of his right hand, his writing hand, and his right leg has been shaking non-stop since he sat down next to me, which indicated that he was either nervous or bored. I'll wager for the latter. I doubt a guy like him get's nervous.

His hair was like semi-curly strands of chocolate swirling over his head. He had dimples and his eyes were light green. My favourite color.

"What are you looking at?" He scowled.

"Nothing. Sorry." I swiftly turned my gaze down to my notebook, completely mortified and terrified. After what he did to that guy Robby, I could only imagine what he'd do to me.

I started to gather my belongings, anticipating that the bell was about to ring. The second the bell rang, I stood up abruptly and left the classroom as quick as lightning.

Shoulders brushed by me as I tried to make my way towards my next class. The corridors were congested with people doing the same. It was almost like trying to swim to shore in a riptide.

I could smell a combination of different scents. Lavender, cherry, leather and sandalwood, all different deodorants and perfumes from different people with different lives.

Chatter filled the halls, and all I wanted to do was find a place to hide. My hands crawled back up their sleeves as I turned around a corner. Suddenly, I had bumped into Tom and one of his mates from the football team.

"Sorry." I apologised straight out, my voice wavering.

"Sup Charlie!" Tom beamed. He'd only ever talked to me in the presence of his girlfriend before.

"Not much. Sorry again." I walked around them.

Everywhere i walk in this maze there's someone who intimidates me.

A few hours later I had French class, which was one of my favourite subjects. Ella, Clayton and I had always wanted to go to Paris and take a cliche picture of us standing in front the Eiffel Tower.

"Let's get our French on!" Ella sang as we walked down the corridor.

"I'll meet you there, I need to use the bathroom."

"Okay, don't forget to wash your hands." She winked.

I quickly rushed into the bathroom and closed myself into one of the stalls. Last year seriously sucked. I'm the nice guy. The kind guy who lets everyone walk all over him. I'm not one for standing up to my oppressors. My breathing fastened. It felt as if my heart would explode.

I'm fine.

It's just High School.

I inhaled and exhaled deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" Someone asked.

I froze.

Maybe if I just pretend they're hallucinating, they'll leave.

"Hello?" The voice called again.

"Uh, yeah. I'm. I'm fine."

"Alrighty."

After calming myself down, I exited the bathroom stall and washed my hands, even though I didn't even use the toilet. "Sounded like you were having a panic attack in there." A blond guy appeared beside me to wash his hands. He looked familiar but I could not place him.

"I'm fine, just a tad jittery." I gave him a half-smile.

"You're friends with Tom's girlfriend, right?"