He stared at me with quicksilver eyes. There was something in his gaze I couldn't quite place, something I didn't want to place. Still, it was hard not to wonder what the hell he wanted- and wanted with me, of all people.

Mostly, it was confusing. He never approached me, never anythinged. He only lingered a ways away, just out of the corner of my eye.

For days I felt eyes on me, felt someone looking their fill. And yet I never looked up. I ignored the hair raising on the back of my neck, resisted the urge to turn and glance behind me. Foolishly, I thought it would pass, that one day I would no longer be eyecandy for the school's biggest troublemaker. I thought wrong.

On a blue skyed Wednesday, when a hot breeze fluttered through the courtyard, I gave in.

He sat perched on a low lying tree branch, a cigarette hanging lazing between pursed lips. Speckles of light peeked through the rustling leaves and set his orange hair aflame, cast a glint in his eyes. Eyes that were trained on me.

Bouncing a pen between two fingers, I pretended to be interesting in the sky and squinted in the general direction of a whispy cloud. I snorted. He wasn't even trying to be discreet. To anyone who cared to look, it would be painfully obvious his eyes were fixed on the blond in a blue tie.

So I glared right at him, eyes narrowed.

One half of his mouth quirked up in a smile as he took another drag. My face flushed, half anger at his flagrant douchebaggery, half anger at myself for thinking he looked better when he smiled. Ears hot, I looked down at my lap. I could hear him laughing at me.

Slamming my notebook shut, I tucked it under my arm and stood up. I marched over to his tree with a grimace. Voice low enough to sound vaguely threatening, I peered up at him. "Jack,"

Jack blew a smoke ring. "Mr. Student Council President,"

"I don't have time for your antics," I huffed. "What do you want?"

He feigned surprise. "Want? Like, from you?"

"Well it is me, you've been staring at for- what, a week?"

"'Staring' has such a negative connotation, don't you think?"

"Don't change the subject!" I shouted, but lowered my voice back to a harsh whisper. "Look here, Jack. I know about people like you. I know how they-"

He slid from his perch, landing expertly in front of me. Reflexively, I backed into the tree, glare wavering in the shadow of his broad shoulders. He stamped out his cigarette on the bark next to my ear, but didn't move his arm even after the butt fell into the grass.

He took a step closer. "'People like me', huh?"

I made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Up close, they were pools of mercury: cold, slick, unfeeling. I clutched my notebook defensively to my chest. "I- that's not what I meant-"

"Right." He snorted. "Right, you meant to vocalize your depressingly obvious superiority complex through vaguely classicist subtleties that 'people like me' are meant to overlook."

His face only a breath away from mine, all I could do was gulp.

"You know what I want."

And he left.

He turned and walked away and left me backed against the tree, heart hammering in my ears. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My stomach fluttered with what I thought was anger.

Anger, because I knew Jack Merridew would be back.

A/N: Wow, something that isn't PWP or poorly written fluff! I actually plan on (gasp) going somewhere with this!

No seriously there will be actual multiple chapters. Shocking, right. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter two. AY, out.

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