John's POV
As I approached my little shop of horrors aka the homestead I couldn't deny or shake the apprehension that founds it way into the pit of my stomach. Grayson's car wasn't in the drive and the memories of last night still hadn't come back to me. I had kind of hoped they would not. I daren't think about what I could have done.
"Get in, shower and get out, John."
I needed to lay out my plan. If the old bastard was home, he wasn't going to embrace me in a hug. I'd be a swift punch to the face that would knock me on my ass. Climbing the steps with a shake, I took a deep breath and breached the warzone. It was surprisingly silent and dark. There wasn't a single light on. If anyone paid close enough attention, they'd assume we hadn't paid our electricity bill. That rumour would be around town in a matter of hours. God damn nosey neighbours. They should spend more time paying attention to what goes on with their own families instead of concerning themselves with me and mine.
Thankfully, the house was empty and I was gifted with solace and roamed the house with a hurried step. I tossed my clothes into the laundry hamper and grabbed a shower. I didn't have long before school started and as much as I wanted to skip to mainly avoid Isobel, I'd rather be somewhere public where my fathers wrath couldn't find me.
I wrapped a towel around my waist and ran into the kitchen. Where had the chaos gone? It was spotless, if I hadn't have been here I would assume nothing happened last night. No brawl, no drunken antics, no shattered glass. Grayson must have cleaned. Where is that fool?
I grabbed a carton of milk from the refrigerator and upended it before I caught a glimpse at the clock. Mother fucker.
I was going to be late. I had to motor before one jumped up guidance councillor decided he needed a word with my parental unit.
Isobel's POV
The hour I had between discovering John had left and having to leave for school flew by too quickly for my liking, and I'd spent the majority of it storming around the house in an irate haze as I conducted a quick clean up of the house, unnecessarily vigorous in my actions as cushions were returned into their proper positions, and blankets were folded into an organised pile. What. A. Jerk.
After an evening of humoring him as he went about the evening in his ridiculously inebriated state, not to mention tending to still unexplained cuts, grazes, and bruises despite the ungodly incident that was him inappropriately groping me, John Gilbert, Mystic Falls' resident asshole, still managed to justify slipping out without even the slightest display of gratitude. Thank you? What's Thank you?
As I strolled the crowded hallways, the air littered with more groans and whining breaths than was normal due to the various degrees of hangovers plaguing Mystic Falls High's students, all I could think about was how grateful I was for the fact that I didn't have History today.
"Isobel, hey! You disappeared last night, where did you go?"
As I came to a stop by my locker, I was met by the angelic smile of a sweet girl from my art class. A sweet girl, who's friendliness received a backhand in the form of a sardonic smile, and a response uttered in equally acerbic tones.
"Just.. Wasn't really feeling it."
The second those unnecessarily astringent words slipped loose, regret colored fair features as I realised how harsh I was just then. And the bitchiest new girl award goes to..
I made a point of granting her a deceptively sincere smile in a vain attempt to right my wrong. "I just mean that I was really tired.. So I had to go home. It sucks, I would've loved to spend more time with you!"
John's POV
School, how mundane. I trolled the halls and stopped at my locker. This thing had not been opened all summer. I dreaded to think what I had left behind. Gym clothes, food, something utterly disgusting most likely and as I opened it up I was assaulted with the stench of rotting fruit. SHIT!
I slammed it shut and turned my head to heave violently before being confronted with Isobel's face. She stood at the far end of the hall.
Fuck. What am I gonna do? What do I even say? Do I acknowledge her? Ignore her? I'll ignore her. That seems like the saner thing to do.
I turned on my heel, backing away from the open space. I was in clear view, if she turned her head an inch she would see me. Don't do it. Don't look. Don't look at me.
I prayed. Who the hell was I praying to anyway. I wasn't really religious, I gave the appearance that I did. As I crept away slowly, I hugged the wall like I was fucking spider man. This shouldn't be happening. I shouldn't be scaling the wall like a fucking idiot. Why did this girl drive me to such extreme lengths.
I couldn't blame Isobel for my reaction to things. I had been the one to kiss her in a drunken state. Surely she's telling the girl beside her all about her night with John Gilbert. If I wasn't so embarrassed I'd welcome the gossip.
I had successfully escaped from the hall and the possibility of being caught by Isobel Flemming. Once out of sight, I strolled confidently down the hall toward my class.
Isobel's POV
"See you at lunch?"
As the girl I'd met in my art class looked to me with an expectant gaze, bright eyes mirroring the brilliant smile seraphic features held while an organised pile of folders and books remained in the confines of her arms, I granted her an acknowledging nod, a murmured response of "Mhm" expelled through coral lips.
The hallways remained constantly busy as students made vain attempts to meander through the dense crowds, or find their way to lockers loosely barricaded by numerous bodies merely loitering as they waited for that one minute in which everyone dispersed to make their way to their own classes. The folder I held in my hand only became a nuisance as, like many others, I patiently manoeuvred through the cluttered hallways.
One second. I glanced down for one second to slip the burden into my bag, and the next thing I know, I'm colliding shoulder to shoulder with another student who was paying as little attention to the path ahead of him as myself.
"I'm sor-"
The collision elicited apologetic words the only ended up strangled behind pursed lips the moment I laid eyes on John Gilbert, the victim of my mindlessness. "Great."
John's POV
There was nothing I could do to stop the impending collision that occurred between Isobel and I, I had absconded from her undetected yet had a hand in our encounter. Was cupid sorely mistaken in this match? I should have skipped today. Found myself a dark windowless room to remain in but instead I thought I would occupy myself with school. The dulling drivel that would surely occur seemed like an perfect way to pass the time until sleep could envelop me. My shoulder slammed into her. I had been too preoccupied with celebrating my success to spare a glance forward and avoid Isobel's advancing meander.
A trailed apology fell fell from her coral lips and I had no time to filter my response.
"Watch where you're going! Seriously, are you just stupid today."
Harsh much. I towered over Isobel, her petite frame and short stature were laid before me while my countenance morphed into a spiteful mein.
Isobel's POV
I'd been raised to keep a level head. As I grew up, it was the same song, repeated in every manner known to man: Say hello, flash a smile, say please, thank you, no thank you. I was taught to apologise, and to be forgiving. Why? If I couldn't forgive, why should others forgive me? It was these values that formed the basis of my morals, and yet, as the words rudely snapped by John hit me, well embedded principles flew out the window, and a raised voice accompanied the disbelieving glare I had fixed on an evidently irritated John Gilbert.
"Are you serious, John? Think about what you're saying, you jerk. Think long and hard about ho between the two of us, is the stupid one, because I'm not the one who sneaked out of a house this morning!"
John's POV
I should have calmed myself before the sight of Isobel spurred me so, I was more embarrassed than anything. My behaviour the night before was less than christian. With a roll of my eyes, my hand guided to my jaw and scratched lightly. This bitch needs to shut up.
My inner musings were contradictory, the words that evaded my tongue were all aimed at her.
"Jesus, who pissed in your cheerios this morning? It sure as fuck wasn't me."
Isobel's POV
The shortest moment passed as I stared at him without saying a single word, astonished by the unrelenting impertinence he shamelessly displayed. Is this guy serious?
"Are you /fucking/ kidding me? Tell me how you stand there and be such a freaking douche after I let your drunk ass sleep under my roof last night."
John Gilbert's ungrateful behavior was enough to irk me this morning. This audacious display he decided to flaunt so publicly only tipped my mood over the edge, and I found myself swiftly drumming svelte digits against my jeans in a waning effort to keep myself from landing a slap on his cheek.
John's POV
Baring witness to Isobel's serenely angered exterior, her fingers drummed menacingly against her jeaned thigh while her lips curve into a displeased display.
"Calm the fuck down. Just because I didn't what? Stay for breakfast and look at you in the light of day, you're acting like a total crazed bitch."
I sneered through an enraged and oddly confused grunt; peers had halted their steps toward their classes to watch our argument Goddammit.
I wanted the ground to swallow me whole and end this display of tempestuous degree. Isobel was livid because I had bailed from her house? Was she serious? Fucking pathetic.
"Do me a favor, forget you met me. I've forgotten already, you aren't that memorable."
Isobel's POV
John's every word did nothing but add fuel an anger that already blazed so furiously within me. How rude!
Most would bother to say thanks to someone who could've spent an evening getting drunk and happy, but instead spent it tending to wounds which, several hours later, I still had no explanation for. Not to mention the fact that I patiently tolerated his drunken antics. Who the hell ends up that drunk that early anyway?
His every statement rested precariously atop one another, an unstable pile carelessly formed, and as he uttered his closing declaration, my resolve collapsed and any control I'd maintained during the entirety of the conversation came crashing down, a hand landing on the side of his face with a resounding echo, my own words carried clearly in the silence that fell upon the audience I hadn't realised had gathered around us.
"Go to hell."
John's POV
Resounding gasps carried toward Isobel and myself. Her hand hand opened and the palm collided with my face in a lash of a slap. Flesh became inflamed, stinging painfully prompting my teeth to clench together as a groaned growl catched against my teeth. She fucking slapped me
Overcome with shock, I advanced toward her, pressing the tip of my nose against her own while my countenance hardened. I didn't know if I should kiss her or hit her in that moment, all conflicting emotions soared through me while harsh breaths hit at her lips; our eyes were locked on each others and the alarming ring of bells broke the silence.