Don't own 39 Clues!

Chapter 3

Russian Roulette

Dan Cahill strode into school with his usual swagger; girls' eyes following him while he winked at several of the pretty ones, boys highfiving him while he sauntered past, head high and aviator glasses perched on his nose.

He exuded a confidence like never before, as if his head had swelled twice the normal size of an air balloon, a smirk gracing his face that he knew nauseated her when he entered her Debate class, the kick of adrenaline coursing through his veins when he saw her in the same class as he, her dainty little fingers coiled around a pen, her mouth opened in laughter as Sophie whispered a joke into her ear- how lucky was he? To be in the same class as his proposed target, and it was Debate class, of all lucky shots, Debate- the pinnacle of sexual tension.

"Hey," he smiled dazzlingly at her as she shuffled her papers, going through her debate notes, "how are you doing?"

"It was a good morning," she responded crisply as she sharpened her pencil; the sounds of the blade cutting through the wood and graphite lead skipped over her words, "until you came. What do you want?"

"Oh, just you babe."

"You're repulsive," she replied.. "And I have work to do. Don't you have anyone else to bother?"

"There is a list actually," Dan feigned interest onto his nails. "But you're the first suggestion."

"Well," she said coolly, "Considered me bothered. Now go away or I will."

Gathering her equipments, she marched directly towards where her friends were nesting, completely forgotten about their encounter. He sighed and put his hands into his pockets.

Well, at least he had progress. She didn't call him an idiot like she usually did.

The Debate Teacher, Mr Wilkins, had decided to start class with a classic competition: girls vs boys. The topic was 'War Is A Necessary Evil'. Five minutes into the first class and they were already grilling their brains for a debate. Great, thought Dan, deathly bored as Mr Wilkins launched into the introduction. His attention averted to a particular English beauty applying lip gloss as she listened to Mr Wilkins talk. He remembered how she shot him down but it only aggravated him to try even harder. As Dan shuffled into his seat besides Hamilton, Mr Wilkins flipped the coin and Dan's team had drew the short side for against but he was determined to win this debate.

"So you'll be allowed ten minutes to do research on your phones or laptop, prepare your debates and then we'll head straight to the debate," briefed Mr Wilkins, highlighting the topic's words with a white chalk.

The class spurned into slow buzz of chatter and Dan chewed on the cap of his pen, uninterested as his team opened up their laptops and begin jotting down notes for the Debate. The opened textbook before him abandoned. Not really bothering to care, Dan got up from his seat and made his way over to the other side of the room where the girls were bundling together, preparing for their arguments against the boys.

"So I hope you're ready to lose," He grinned at Natalie as she made a sound of disgust upon seeing him.

"As if," she replied coolly, combing back her long fringe from her eyes and pursed her lips. "You couldn't form a coherent argument even if you tried."

He didn't even bother to back off. "Oh babe, I love it when you talk dirty."

"Oh, grow up!"

"Shouldn't you?" he chuckled, gesturing to her small, yet growing chest.

"Dan Cahill, you slimy wanker!"

"What, Cobra?" he smirked. "Can't take a joke?"

"Oh I can't take a joke?" she repeated, fuming. "What I can't take is stupid, moronic imbeciles such as you!"

"You didn't find it funny?" he pouted, mockingly curious. "What a shame. Everybody else did!"

She let out a vicious scream and lunged for him, manicured nails lashing out as she clawed his face and they went tackling, rolling on the floor. They attracted a crowd of onlookers surging in and surrounded them in an enclosed circle as Natalie aimed for his neck but Dan parried her arms, punching her in the stomach. She doubled over in pain but recovered as she invigorated her efforts to kill the living daylights out of him.

"Stop!" Mr Wilkins cried out, pushing past the crowd. "Stop right now- please!"

"You're the most intolerable boy I've ever met!" she spat out viciously as she straddled him onto the floor, her hands trying to wriggle out of his iron-grip. Maybe it was her imagination but he sure had strong arms that kept her from clawing his eyes out.

"You know you're kind of hot when you're angry," he whispered, his strength easily overpowering hers.

"And you're a pighead!" Spittle struck his face and she shoved her knee up, smashing it into his groin. He groaned in pain and before she could do worse, Mr Wilkins pulled her off him.

"Detention for such wild behaviour!" he announced angrily as Dan clutched his family jewels in pain and Natalie fixed the straps of her dress, brushing off her mussed-up hair into a neater form. "Both of you."

Apparently, Detention wasn't enough to satisfy the Principal's temper. Not only did they had two-hour detention for the rest of the week with each other, they were also suspended. Dan was fine with being suspended. Seriously, getting out of school for punishment? Best thing ever.

Natalie, however, didn't feel the same.

"This is going on my permanent record!" she gasped as they were ushered out of the office by the administrative receptionist and into an empty classroom for their lunch time detentions. "Harvard is not going to accept me!"

"Oh relax, one detention is not going to hurt your chances, Cobra," he rolled his eyes. He was resting an ice-pack on his...erm, special area. What made her mad about this whole arrangement was not only her GPA and permanent record screwed, it was she had to spend her imprisonment with him. Even worse, he still looked...kind of cute…with an ice pack on his private area. Her cheeks tinged with pink but she didn't show her face to him and immediately banished the thought. Dan Cahill, the devil spawn, cute? She was a teenage girl with raging hormones. Sue her, but Dan Cahill? She was above this! His irritating voice brought her back to reality: "Don't be so dramatic."

"What would you know?" she retorted as they took their seats with her usual wit. "You don't even have a future, you-"

"Silence," snapped the detention teacher, a substitute, "And sit down, Miss Kabra."

Dan snickered as Natalie settled into her seat, gritting her teeth and flipping him the finger whenever the substitute wasn't looking. They spend fifteen minutes in silence as the detention teacher texted on her iPhone, smiling to herself as her fingers skimmed across the screen. Dad played a game of invisible tic-tac-toe by himself while Natalie sat and crossed her arms, looking at anywhere but him.

"Now if you excuse me," the detention teacher said suddenly as she pushed her glasses up against the bridge of her nose and rose from her seat. "I have a place to go. Don't you go anywhere."

"Yes, ma'am," they rattled off simultaneously.

The clicks of the substitute's heels rang through the classroom as she walked out the door and once it was closed, Natalie broke the silence. "Ugh."

"What's the bitterness, sweetheart?" Dan shot her a lazy smile that made her skin crawled. She hated his smile, those dimples that appeared along with it, and his smug attitude. "Most girls would cut their limbs off to be in an empty classroom with me."

"Lucky for me," she began haughtily, "I'm not like most girls."

"Exactly." He put up his crossed-legs onto an empty table. She sniffled. What deplorable manners. "You're a different story, Cobra."

"It's Kabra," she corrected bossily. "Get it right."

"Not till you finally decide to go out with me," he replied, and with a smirk: "Cobra."

There was something about his nonchalance...laziness that pissed her off so much. It was like not ever once he cared about girls he hurt or even his grades. He didn't give a shit and it infuriated her. And he acted as though he was such hot shit, like she was just pretending not to throw herself at him. Please, she assumed presumptuously, I have dignity and class. Not some stupid American blonde bimbo. The way how his eyes were targeted on her, like she was some prize to be won. He was every reason for her to hate men. Arrogant and self-assuming, he always thought everybody loved him. Her mind flashed back to yesterday with her conversation she had with Sophie and her stomach bubbled in rage. Yes, he was good-looking but that didn't stop him from being an asshole.

She held up her neck high. "Not even if you were the last man on Earth."

"And why not?" he allowed himself to laugh. She gripped the edges of her table tight, telling herself to calm down. The last thing she needed was to add assault to her permanent record. "Don't fool yourself, Nat. You're hot. I'm hot."

She seethed, her scowl deepening.

He leaped off his seat and strode towards her desk, smirking as he did so. He was looking down on her, invading her personal space with every step closer, and succeeding in making her uncomfortable. His green eyes burned with a fiery determination to make her his. She shifted in her seat. There was something about his eyes that caused shivers to travel up her spine, consuming her with such venomous emotions. It was hatred, that was for certain. Pure, searing hatred. She wanted to make him pay for what he did to Sophie, what he probably did to hundreds of other girls. He was a player, a heartbreaker, a total manwhore, the guys called him cool, the girls lusted over him; she despised it. There was not enough curse words in the world to sum up her hate. She was an assertive sort of spirit, the type who was used to getting what she wants. And so was he, picking off girls like apples from a vine. Their clashes would be immense. And she was here to teach him a lesson.

"Don't pretend it's the best compliment you've ever gotten," he said lowly, their face inches apart. Her stomach cart-wheeled. "The hottest guy in school chasing after you? Like it doesn't make you all hot and bothered," he leaned down, his breath brushing against her ear as she inhaled through her mouth, trying to think rationally. "Don't pretend you don't want me, Cobra."

That's it. Her hand struck up and slapped him hard on the face. How dare he! Assuming she was another one of his sluts- she was shaking with rage.

"You're delusional."

"Playing hard to get?"

She looked at him straight in the eye. "In your dreams, Daniel."

"Oh come on," his eyes glimmered, soaking up every fight she put up. Their arguments, the way she narrowed her eyes at him and quipped those witty little retorts...they were his drug. "What can I do to make you want me?"

Then an idea, an idea her mother would've revel in for such genius scheming, bloomed in her head. Of course, the only reason why she was doing this was because she had given up to peer pressure or purely to sack it to Dan Cahill that he had it coming for him exactly. Embracing a sly expression onto her lips, his interest piqued as he realized she or once wasn't scowling at him.

"I heard you gamble," she dangled it casually, spinning off the act quite impressively. And the Oscar goes to...Natalie Kabra, she thought with fireworks going off in her head. Stay focus, Natalie. She evaluated her task and set ahead on the focus, going off on her imaginary tangent: "I love bets. Most importantly, I love winning. You?"

"You heard right, Kabra," his eyes skimmed her face, which had been pulled into a perfect, strained smile full of teeth. Thank Goodness, she had one hell of a poker face. Say hello to my new car, he was mentally pumping fists in the air. "I'm the best one there is. And since you like winning so much, how do you care for losing?"

She snorted. "I never lose. I was right. You are delusional."

"Care to prove it?"

Talk about hook, line and sinker.

She flipped her hair, showcasing her long, graceful neck. He gulped as she revealed her cinnamon tone chest and flirtatiously smiled, "Well, Cahill, maybe you might be fun after all." She kept her eye-contact with this selfish womanizer. He would get his karma soon, if she had anything to say about it. He leaned back onto the table he was sitting on, his t-shirt stretching against his abdomen. She swallowed painfully and maintained her charade. If there was anything she could gather from the way he held himself was that he never backed down from a challenge, a gamble, a bet- no, he was much too arrogant for that. Overall, it was awfully convenient. She would start slowly, lure him in, reel him out and then she would used a pair of scissors and sliced him down like a marionette with it's strings cut.

But it was possible that the bait could escape unscathed. She pushed the thought out of her mind. She would win. She would crush Dan Cahill like a broken toy. She would crush him like the bug he was.

"What about...a bet, as you Americans seem to call it?"

"I knew there was something I like about you." Natalie resisted scowling scornfully at his wooing endeavours. Honestly, was everything he ever spouted out a pick-up line? He was always saying things for laughs, it was redundant and childish. Nonetheless, Natalie was always an expert at masking her irritability with her calculating amber eyes. "And what would you like to bet, Cobra?"

Oh this was far too good. If her mother could see her now. But before she could relished in her victory, she set a straight face. She had to keep stringing him along, or else she lose the whole game.

"I'd like to bet me."

"Huh?" Confusion crossed his face and knitted his eyebrows. Puzzlement evident. "I don't understand."

I scooched closer towards him. "Scared, Cahill? I meant that we'll bet if you could be in a long-lasting relationship. We do everything a stupid couples does: we'll kiss, we go on dates, we hug and spend time with each other. And you have to be entirely faithful for a whole month. Can you do that?"

He pondered it and she could see that nauseating smirk of his crawling back onto his face. His jaw tightened abruptly. "Of course but what's in it for me?"

"If you win," she batted her eyelashes, "You get to sleep with me and I'll do anything you want…anytime you want."

"Oh really?" he murmured as his impulsive hand shot up onto her thigh. Her breath hitched, astonished at the sudden physical contact. Her cheeks flushed but she had her embarrassment under control. She wanted nothing more than to swat his hand away since her limbs twitched in response and her skin glowed in heat. "How interesting." His tone exuded lecherous intentions as it crawled up her thigh. She closed her eyes shut, revolted, as it triggered the gag reflex at the mental image that flashed into her head on the mere thought of sleeping with (insert belch here) Dan Cahill.

"And why a bet like that?"

"I thought it'd be fun." And you'll get what's happening to you. "And see if you're really as good as they say you are."

"I'm more than good," he traced shapes onto her thigh. Shapes such as flowers, stars but not hearts. Never hearts. His fingers on her bare skin was prickling, uncomfortable, new. The sensation...it was so uncertain and strange and not Natalie. She wanted to experience more but instead of allowing herself to enjoy it, she slapped his hand violently. He recoiled, disappointment lucidly flashing in those emerald eyes. "What makes you think you'll win?"

She shrugged but on the inside the gears inside her head was spinning like a bunch of clocks. She had the perfect plan. Because Sophia was indeed right.

The player needed to get played.

"And let's say you do win," he suggested, borderline implicit of incredulity. His sandy, blonde hair caught the streams of the sunlight filtering in from the windows and it lit up his whole head like a halo of gold. He appeared angelic. She wanted to scoff at the irony of it all. Daniel Cahill was anything but angelic. "What do you get?"

"Then you'll have to do something for me," she tossed it out there. "Your punishment is simple: you won't be going after anymore girls for the rest of your high school career."

"Fine," he chuckled. "Alright. That's simple enough. I win, you become my bitch. You win, I become your bitch. I'm going to enjoy…" he bit his lip as he stroke my right cheek but she forced it away.

With a painful smile: "Save it for after, Cahill."

"It's Dan."

She was caught off-guard. "Excuse me?"

"The name's Dan." He stretched out his hand languidly as her hand shot out at the same time."Do we have a deal?"

Feeling like the poisonous queen she was, Natalie's glittering smile matched her glittering eyes. "We have a deal."

If only she knew he was playing her at the same time.

Sorry for the late update! But I hoped you like it- Natan's underway! It'd be cool to see Natalie and Dan as a 'couple'. Who do you think would get played the most?

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