I OWN NOTHING. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO L.J. SMITH
This is a story loosely based on the night world series. The characters are created by me as well as the story line. (note : ( : ) indicates POV changes)
Just once could I get to school on time? Willow thought. She pulled up and parked in the last available spot. It was across from a trendy sports car with the license plate:
BAMF
Geez, I wonder who the dickhead is with the license plates? appalled Willow quickly ducked into the school. She walked into the front office.
" hello deary, can I assist you?" a woman in a pink cardigan and a beehive hairdo asked in a nasally voice.
Startled Willow answered, "um, I . . er . . Well, yes." the secretary looked at Willow like she expected her to change her mind.
"are you sure?" the nasally voice persisted. Damnit, lady, how can I be sure when you keep looking at me with those beady eyes?
"yes, I'm positive. Id like to get my schedule. I'm a new student here and I don't now where to go for class." the lady turned up her snooty nose and turned around to look in some files. Her very wide rear blocked most of Willow's view and she could barely hear her when she asked a question.
"excuse me?" Willow asked. the woman turned more towards her and restated the question.
"name. Deary." well somebody was getting snippy.
"Willow Mercer" and with that the secretary began rummaging again. Willow didn't know how much more she could take of this slow town. Everything took so long. Pizza delivery, traffic and now filing.
What the hell was taking so long?
Finally the secretary, Mrs. Wyde according to the name tag, plopped the papers on the counter.
how ironic that her last name is Wyde when her bottom half is so . . . Wide, Willow thought but immediately scolded herself.
Shaking herself mentally Willow gathered the papers and said good-bye hoping that her face didn't show her earlier mean thoughts. She walked down the hall following the numbers as they increased on the doors.
Room 117, room 118, room 119, room 120, ah here we are. 121!
Willow straightened her shoulders and walked in the classroom knowing that everyone would gawk when she walked in. Being close to 5' 11" will do that to a girl. Willows mother had always told her to walk with pride, tall women demand attention when they walk into a room. And she intended to demand everyone's.
( : )
Well, well, well, thought Cohen, somebody's going to be even more fashionably late than me? He didn't like being shown up, and he waited to see if he would be. The door handle turned . . .
A girl walked in. her shoulders were back and she walked with a confidence that was shocking for someone at a new school. It was impressive. She walked up to the teacher who was staring at her like everyone else in the room and handed him the note.
It took the teacher a second to process his thoughts, but once he seemed to understand the message he stood up abruptly and spoke with conviction, "Class, we seem to have a new student. Her name is Willow Mercer. She is a senior and I hope you will all make her feel welcome."
At this the girl, Willow, turned to face the class. The whole class took and audible breath. She was striking. She had short hair, just beneath her jaw that framed her face. Her eyes were brown with tinges of green that were more noticeable when in direct light. She was tall. Tall enough to intimidate most guys, thankfully Cohen was 6' 3". Freckles dusted across her slightly crooked nose.
Damn, Cohen was blown away by this girl. She walked in the room demanding everyone's attention, and it turned out she had succeeded.
Damnit, she showed me up, that thought made Cohen smile, just my type.
( : )
Act indifferent, but in control, Willow reminded herself as she made her way to the only empty desk in the class.
Everything she did had to be calculated now that she new everyone's attention was on her. It even took the teacher a second to shake out of his reverie and start the lesson.
Thank goodness for my photographic memory Willow raised her eyes in acknowledgement in silent thanks to God. If she would have pulled out paper and a pen to take notes everyone would have lost interest.
She pulled off confident now she had to pull off cool. Not that she was trying to impress anyone it was just that she wasn't going take crap from anyone at this school. She figured if she came across as intimidating people would just steer clear of her. She wouldn't have to waste time getting to know people just to have her life ripped out from underneath her . . . again.
At the end of class she got up, after everyone had poured out of her row, and slowly began to saunter down the isle. She was almost clear of the isle when a boy sat down on the remaining desk, and folded his ankles neatly in front of her. He wasn't blocking her way completely, he was giving her a choice; she could leave . . . Or she could talk to him.
Fuck, Willow was surprised it had happened so soon. She looked up to meet the eyes of her road block. His eyes were green, like green sea glass worn away by the swaying tide, so much depth.
Damnit, no getting mushy! Willow tightened her resolve.
She stopped, book bag slung over one shoulder, hip cocked, boot angled. She looked by the door to see a gang of attractive boys waiting, and further back a group of swooning girls.
OH, willow felt enlightened, this must be the BAMF
" How's it going" the boy inquired, trying to seem indifferent. Willow found this comical. HE had walked up and pursued HER and he acted like she was walking past him at the mall. RIDICULOUS.
" It's going." was Willows stiff reply. Still cool and she seemed confident enough to pull it off.
" So where you from?" once again trying to act like it was almost a task to talk to her.
" well I'm not sure that's something that involves you. But where I am heading looks like its going to be." now she was mixing in mysterious. She could get a grip on this cool thing!
Mr. BAMF immediately perked up at that, obviously thinking she was talking about meeting somewhere later. "just tell me when and where, babe. ill be there." allowing himself to seem a little more interested.
Confident little fucker. Willow scoffed right in his face, she didn't mean to be rude but he was laying it on thick. She looked away and returned her disbelieving glare. "for starters my name is not babe. And second I wasn't making rendezvous plans with you."
At this she could see Mr. Fan-club become very confused. He was thinking deeply when she cleared her throat to break his concentration. She pointed down at his feet and made a sweeping motion with her hands. Comprehension dawned on him and so did immediate embarrassment. He pulled back his legs so quickly Willow didn't even catch the movement.
That's more like it, Skippy. Willow thought about patting him on the head, but decided she didn't want to completely demoralize the boy. With out a second glance Willow rushed past his waiting entourage who now looked shocked. Especially his female fan club in the background.
Willow didn't have time to admire her handy work so she just continued on to her next class.
Room 212, room 213, room 214, room 215 . . .
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