Chapter 3
I sat uncomfortably on the countertop of the nurse's office waiting for Red Plaid Skirt to finish getting patched up. I couldn't believe my bad luck. What a way to make a first impression. I scolded myself for my carelessness. Sometimes my strength seemed to just get away from me and I hated that. I pictured the look in her eyes when I'd helped her up. It wasn't a grateful look... But it was pretty damn sexy.
I snapped to attention as she came through the lobby door, a simple butterfly bandage taped just above her eyebrow. I was surprised how well it suited her; i found myself wondering how she'd look with an eyebrow ring.
She stopped in front of me with a look of annoyance.
"Why are you still here?"
Not quite the greeting I was expecting.
"Everything ok?" I inquired, ignoring her slight.
She sighed with impatience. "I'm fine," she muttered as she continued past me towards the door.
A bit of a bitch, wasn't she? I caught the eye of an equally shocked girl by the front desk who was quick to grant me a shy and apologetic smile. I scowled. Once upon a time I had enjoyed these frequent looks of admiration, but as I'd grown older, remarks about my resemblance to my dad had become more and more commonplace.
And I didn't want to be anything like him.
I turned disdainfully away from the pretty blonde girl and caught up to Red Plaid Skirt. I was on the precipice of asking her what her problem was when she whirled around, almost causing me to plow her down once again, and looked me accusingly in the eye.
"I said I was fine," she asserted, "why are you following me?"
Caught off guard, I shuffled my feet and fumbled over my words. "I just... Look, I'm sorry, ok? It was an accident. You don't have to get so bent out of shape, I didn't mean to hurt you."
Agh. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. I hated doing this. I was never good with apologies.
"I know," she retorted, somewhat more resigned. She raised her eyebrows impatiently. "Is that all?"
I stared at her dumbfounded.
"You don't get apologies often do you?" I scoffed.
"I don't get smacked with doors very often if that's what you mean," she growled.
"I told you it was -"
"Yeah, I know," she interrupted. "It was an accident." She rolled her eyes and I felt my anger build.
Don't start channeling your dad, Ted. Not here, not now.
"If you know it was an accident then why are you angry at me?" I flustered.
"I'm sorry," she mewled sarcastically, "I almost had to get stitches a few minutes ago, I guess I should be happy."
She stalked out the front office door.
Oh no. This was not happening. I stomped after her, fully aware of my irrationally flaming temper. I threw open the office door - yet again, but with far less disastrous results this time, and grabbed her arm.
"What is your problem?" I demanded.
The look she gave me sent ice up my spine. She looked terrified. Something told me she'd been grabbed like this before. I dropped her arm like a hot potato, gazing at her apologetically. She stared me down.
"Don't ever touch me again," she warned, her voice low and threatening. I stepped back in alarm as she turned and disappeared into the crowd of students.
No. No, no, no. I didn't mean to hurt her. Fuck, I'm not that guy!
Damnit!
I was pissed. I stood in the middle of the hall both flabbergasted and...well, uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. Nothing irked me more than guys with heated egos and controlling instincts. That look she had given me was like a tourniquet around my neck.
I'm not that guy! I repeated to myself.
I looked around, unsure what to do next, but the school bell saved me, pulling me back into the present.
Deal with this later. You've got to get to class. Graduation isn't far off.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and sulked reluctantly to English class.
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