AMARA

Ignore him, Amara. Just ignore him.

I try to repeat these words to myself in an effort to not break down in the middle of my damned Literature class at the end of a long school day.

He's only doing this to aggravate you and make you nervous. You know the drill-he can stare and taunt all he wants to, but he can't actually hurt you.

The mantra I work to repeat in my head does little to soothe my growing anxiety, so much so that I almost pass out as the bell's screeching sound blares through the classroom, cutting off Mrs. Monders' rant on the great poets of the past.

I take a deep breath as people around me rush toward the door, wake up from their naps, and hastily throw notebooks and pencils into their backpacks without listening to Mrs. Monders' parting words.

"Please, everyone! Remember to close read and analyze one of your chosen poet's work by the next two weeks! This exercise will be an integral step in the upcoming partner projects!"

I doubt that most of my classmates hear or even care about the woman's frantic words, but those who do hear, don't respond or nod in acknowledgment, simply filing the words somewhere in their brains as they haul ass out of the classroom and out of the school building.

School's finally out.

I shakingly scrawl a quick note as a reminder to shuffle through Langston Hughes' work and read a poem of his. My memory can play tricks on me, so I've learned that it is best for me to simply write stuff down no matter how benign it may seem or how much I promise myself I'll remember.

Hair appointment at the end of the month? I write it down on my trusted notepad because I know I won't remember it when the time comes unless I do so. Do I need to buy a present for a coworker's birthday? Yup, I go ahead and ink a note as a reminder 'cause if I don't, I won't be buying shit.

Although I look bored at best to the lingering students in the classroom, someone who looks closely can see that I am anything but. He can see that I am anything but bored.

My hand shakes as I finally start shoving my pencil and books inside my bag and slowly push my chair back as I zip up the heavy backpack.

I'm obviously taking my time to move from my seat in hopes that he and his stupid friends will leave before me, but in the back of my head, I already know that won't be happening. He would never make things so easy on me. He's never made things easy on me and he won't be starting now.

With a sigh, I finally stand up from my chair, ignoring the goosebumps that form on my skin as I overhear his deep voice as he talks to his friends. The Stick Boys.

I roll my eyes at the ridiculous name the four boys have been given by our student body in part due to their ferocious lacrosse-playing skills and mostly because they, and I quote, "stick it in everything with a vagina that walks."

At least all three of them except for him. Nope, Jacob Withers is apparently either a virgin or believes himself too good for the likes of the girls of Hilltop Preparatory School. My bet's on the latter. Despite the mountain of speculation surrounding Withers' sex life or lack thereof, I find it difficult to view him as inexperienced.

Call me obtuse and prejudiced but the guy does not give off the air of pure lamb-not that someone's virginity defines them so wholly-but hey, the dude is friends with boys whose nickname literally points to their sexual escapades and his looks definitely keeps the ladies interested. Not that I notice or anything.

Because I don't notice anything that revolves around Jacob Withers and the Stick Boys. Or at least I try not to. It's not entirely my fault if by chance I happen to overhear my fellow schoolmates talking about them or even my brother and his friends bitching about the guys.

Shaking off unwanted thoughts of Jacob Withers, I silently pray that he'll just allow me to leave the room without having to interact with me in any way. With practiced fake confidence, I smooth down my plaid skirt and grab my bag from the floor before pushing the chair in and walking straight to the door.

His eyes are still on me but I ignore them. If he's let me go this far without saying anything, it means that he's decided to spare me for today. Thank the Lord.

I almost breathe in sweet relief when I'm a couple of feet from the exit but someone grabs my arm and halts my movements. I know for a fact that the perpetrator isn't Jacob because the touch does not cause unwanted things to happen to my flesh, so I don't immediately panic.

"So you're just gonna go off without saying bye, Mar? Bet. I see how it is."

I look up and find myself face-to-face with a face that instantly chases away my anxious nervousness.

"Kel!" I beam at the guy, but he drops his hand from my arm and feigns anger. "I didn't see you earlier when I came into the class and sat down!"

He sucks his teeth and pulls his backpack higher on his shoulder. "I came in late and waved at you but you seemed distracted and looked through me. I thought you forgot about your boy or something."

I really was distracted. Distracted by Jacob's unnerving stare burning my back.

I chuckle, so happy to finally see a familiar face in one of my classes. My senior year started yesterday and of the four classes I had that day, only one was with my best friend, and the rest was filled with acquaintances and other people I'd rather not share a class with. Namely, the Sticks.

I internally cringe as my mind wanders back to them. I could look behind Kelvin and spot them still conspiring in the back of the emptying classroom, but I choose peace, so I keep my eyes firmly on the growing smile on the face of my twin brother's best friend.

"I'm so happy to know that you'll be in this class with me Tuesday and Thursdays, dude! I was seriously about to cry 'cause my people were missing from all my other classes." I know that he'll understand the double meaning of my phrase.

He shakes his head and loses the frown, laughter flowing from him and fully calming my nerves. His clear caramel skin and straight teeth seem to shine even more as he laughs at my words, which are not a complete joke.

"Rochelle will be here, so at least the percent of black students will increase in this place."

I nod excitedly to his words, happy that his sister and one of my closest friends will be back to school by next week. "Finally! Jaya and I have missed the hell out of her."

"Yeah, I know. Y'all have been telling me since she left last year," he reminds me, giving me that big brother look I'm used to receiving from Daniel.

"But, I'm glad that we'll be together for this class, kid. Imma definitely need your help understanding all this literature shit, by the way."

I can't help but laugh because the phrase is so Kelvin that I'm not even surprised by the declaration. I almost let him know as much, but I'm interrupted by the sudden awareness of danger heading straight towards us.

More specifically, a ticked-off six-foot-four lacrosse-playing, brown-haired menace and his crew heading straight towards Kel and me.

Fuck.

Before I know it, he's looming over me and his boys have taken post surrounding me and Kel, who looks seconds away from punching one of them.

"Amara."

Holy hell, why does he have to say my name like that?!

"Amara," he growls out my name again when I attempt to ignore what I know he wants when he calls my name. "Look at me."

I force myself to stop being a coward and simply look up at him. It's not as if he can hurt me with a single look, right? He might be considered a sort of god in the halls of Hilltop Prep, but he can't actually do anything by simply staring at me, right?

Right. The only reason why he insists on me looking at his eyes is that he's attempting to intimidate me. But he can't actually do much with a simple intense stare, right?!

Our eyes collide and a shiver runs through me. There's so much ferocity and violence in them that I almost look away, but I swallow my fears and keep our eye contact.

I even slightly narrow my eyes as I push up my tan tortoise reading glasses. I itch to remove them and rub my eyes, but I realize how much I need the shield when dealing with Jacob's brand of crazy.

"What is it you want from me today, Jacob?"

He stares at me for a second before nodding at his friends who smirk in understanding.

Blonde-haired, blue-eyed Evan Parsons, known as the ladies' man of all ladies' men, is the one who speaks to Kelvin, "C'mon Williams, let us let the kids talk. Practice starts soon and your performance over summer was subpar at best."

"Fuck you, Parsons. And if you think I'm gonna leave Mar with him, then you must be out of your mind."

My eyes widen and I look around the classroom. Where the heck is everyone? Even Mrs. Monders, who was just talking to a few students, is nowhere to be seen anymore.

I wouldn't be even surprised if they all spotted the Sticks sticking their nose in Kel's business and decided to leave the vicinities.

It's no secret that the Fine Boys, or as I like to call them F-Boys, and the Stick Boys do not mingle unless they're playing together on the lacrosse field.

I mentally gag at the thought of the other group of boys on our campus who have been given a name by our student body. Mostly, my disgust is due to the fact that my brother is a part of the mess.

The goofball of the Sticks, Gage Samson, perks up at Kel's words and his signature smirk widens. "Just leave peacefully, Williams. Make it easy for everyone, mmkay?"

"Fuck you, too, Samson."

Finally, Finley Barton, resident scholar of the Sticks adds, "There's something coach wants to discuss with you, it's urgent." Unlike his friends, Fin is the epitome of polite and mannered, which is why he's the only Stick boy I would ever consider befriending.

Though, word on the street is that between the sheets, Fin loses all sorts of refinement.

"Listen to them, Williams. Walk away." Jacob's words cause more shivers to go down my body, and I look up at him once again, not surprised that his eyes are already on me.

"If you lay a finger on her, Withers..." Kel's words are cold and menacing, mirroring his rigid stance.

I work to keep my breathing even as Jacob's eyes peruse my uniformed frame as if he's completely ignoring the Fine Boy's words and deciding on where exactly he'll lay his fingers on me.

Standing at five feet ten inches, I'm taller than most girls and some guys, but next to him, I not only feel short but small too.

And I'm not a skinny girl either, my wide hips and plump thighs are enough evidence to prove as much. But still, Jacob Withers' height and his wide shoulders make me feel incredibly small and breakable.

"You know he won't hurt her, Kelvin," Fin reasons with him, calling him by his first name as a sign of a truce. "So let's just give them some privacy and walk away."

Needing this encounter to be over sooner than later, I speak up, "I love how all of y'all are talking about me as if I'm not here. I feel very acknowledged as a woman in a room of men, thank you very much."

Finley and Kel are the only ones who even remotely look as if they feel bad for their actions, while Gage and Evan keep smirking and Jacob's stare is unflinching and unreadable.

Yay me.

I sigh and drop my heavy backpack on a desk behind me before smiling reassuredly at Kelvin. "Don't worry about me, Kel. Go to practice."

"You sure?" He looks between Jacob and me with unease. "You know you don't always have to talk to him just 'cause he wants to, right Mar?"

"It's Amara," Jacob grinds out lowly, but I fake like I don't hear him while Kel throws him an icy glare.

"It's worse when I ignore him." I shrug with a smile. "It's no biggie, really. Go to practice."

"Fine, I'll go. But I'm texting Daniel about it, Mar." It doesn't escape me how he emphasizes the nickname but I don't dwell on it, my mind too focused on his other words.

"Must you? You know he'll make a big deal for nothing." My twin brother is the dictionary definition of overprotective.

The guy is already typing as he hikes up his backpack and starts walking closer to me. "Yep, you know I've got to."

I pout but lean into him as he wraps his arm around me and squeezes my shoulders. "See ya later, kiddo."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm older than you by a full month and you know it."

He chuckles and squeezes me one more time. "You might be older but I'm wiser so-"

I feel Jacob's vexation before he even speaks in a clipped tone, "Leave now, Williams. My patience is seriously running thin."

Naturally, Kel, fueled by Jacob's anger, takes his sweet time to smile devilishly before plopping an unnecessarily long kiss on my forehead.

He attempts to whisper in my ear but in a flash, Jacob has grabbed me by the arm and dragged me away from the antagonizing man-child.

I try to move away from Jacob to no avail. I'm trembling a bit, both because I feel the anger rolling off of him in waves, but also because being in such close proximity to him always messes with my stupid head.

Without any words except for a shared look, the rest of the Sticks clap the Kel on the back and all but push the guy out of the classroom.

And then there were two.

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A/N: New story! Jacob and Amara 🥰