Chelsea's POV

Walking down the sidewalk, my white Adidas sneakers beat atop the concrete boards with each step I take towards the school building. I brush a few strands of blonde hair from my face with the tip of my fingers and secure them behind my ear.

My lavender eyes that are most times mistaken for blue focus on the cellular device in my left palm. I turn on the airpod situated in my ear, and let it connect to the iPhone 8+, after making sure its bluetooth connection is on.

I shiver slightly at the cold morning air which will surely disappear once the sun is high up, and adjust the collar of my blue and black striped long-sleeved shirt that I'm using as a jacket above the black OFF singlet that complements my boobs. My long legs are covered in the tight-fitting Aphrodite trousers that is the same shade as my top.

Selecting my favorite playlist on audiomack, I secure my phone in one of the tiny pockets of the nude backpack on my shoulder and continue my trek to the educational edifice. The song 'Lied to me' by Trisha Gomez ft Benjackson Troy finds its way into my eardrums and I sigh in contentment as I block out the world around me, and hopefully Terry's irritating voice.

I resist the urge to snatch open the well packaged homemade sandwich from my bag that has its aroma wafting into my nostrils as my mouth goes watery knowing how it'll taste, thus my mom never disappoints in whatever she makes.

FYI, I'm not walking to school because I don't have money to catch a bus, or that my parents can't afford to get me a car or at least drop me off at school. That is not the case, I come from a loving and caring family that can afford more than my needs and wants.

I simply stride to school everyday because 1, it's not that far from my home, 2, I hate driving, and 3, my health expert which is my mom says I need to exercise, so this is me adhering to her words.

Arriving at the school premises, I weave my way through over-expensive cars that shouldn't be brought to school, bump a few shoulders because of the morning rush and finally step foot into the hallway.

The burning of the stares on my skin are the first thing to welcome me, and I shrug off the the need to inspect my attire for a stain or tear. This is something I get everyday for the past two years after Terry decided to start up the trend of abuses on the girl who doesn't care if the world exists outside her head, me.

"Look who is here," the devil himself announces in that his booming voice which always seeks a path into my ears and mind no matter how I try to avoid it. A voice so commanding of power that if I don't have such a hard hatred for him, will make my legs wobble and wetness pool in my panties.

At this point, I'm glad he annoys me and so I do what I do best, bend my face down to cause my hair to shield my facial features and go to stroll past him as fast as I can so I don't end up losing my cool.

"Yeah thanks, do us a favor and cover your face, it'll help save our eyes the torture," he says smugly and a shadow appears in front of me, halting my steps and forcing me to look up.

My pink pouty lips release silent profanities as I scrunch up my nose and gaze directly at his sinfully handsome face. I'm not gonna lie Terry is a work of art, from his sandy blonde hair that's a bit duller than my almost yellow locks to his perfectly pointed nose, sharp jaw, thick eyebrows, icy blue eyes, and very kissable chapped nude lips.

He's sporting a black sweatshirt that clings to his skin in the right places, ripped black jeans and a denim jacket that gives view of his wide shoulders and muscly arms. His right ear is pierced and decorated with a glinting gold earring, as well as his left brow that is pinched with a dot earring to finish of the signature badboy look.

I don't allow him the pleasure of watching me break today or worse drool at him, instead I keep a neutral expression on my face as opposed to his disgusted one that is showing how tormented he feels standing close to me.

I break our intense and very hostile eye contact, as I'm presently aware of the laughter surrounding me. It's a tad muffled by the song Ghost by Justin Bieber playing through my airpods and I'm thankful for that as I inhale, shifting to my right and make a motion to stomp away from him and his two bestfriends who I keep forgetting their names, leaning against their lockers behind him.

The instant I take a step forward, I feel a hand clamp down on my wrist a little too harshly, prompting me to bite my lip in a bid to hold in the waterworks that threaten to escape at the sharp pain that rushes up my arm at the contact. "You don't walk out on me till I'm done with you."

"Get your filty hands off her," my saving grace appears and I heed him hiss and his fingers disconnect from my hand the same moment I see a flash of afro hair in my vision before I hear her continue. "Go pick on someone your own size."

At any other moment I would have laughed at how tiny Uche my bestfriend appears as she pokes the giant in his chest with her index finger. Her cheeks puffing in fury and brown eyes fierce as she glares at him. Rather, I'm a tad scared for her, so I fasten my palm on her arm clad in blue sweater and tug her brown-skinned sexy figure out of his face as I see his rage build at her antics.

"Let's just go, he's not worth it," I speak for the first time since I stepped into school today. This drags her attention to me and I notice she's more angry than I thought, her perfectly arched eyebrows squinting, and round nose producing hot air.

"Fuck you." She flips him the bird, much to the shock of everyone and at this point I think my playlist is spent thus there's no music in my ears as gasps pursue her action.

She finally lets me pull her in the direction of our lockers, her short legs that's encased in blue sweatpants and black Nike Air Max trying to keep up with my long strides. We arrive at our destination exactly as the bell rings.

********

After a long day of brainwrecking Monday classes, I'm sitting through my last period which is Biology as I'm tucked at the left end of the classroom, a spot that keeps me hidden while granting me access to see everything my classmates are doing from back here.

My sitting position might seem odd to people including Uche who sits three rows upfront. Her words being that I hold the honor of the smartest person in my grade, therefore I should be at the first row where I can be one on one with the teacher.

The last time she told me that, my response was that she reads too many teenfiction books and watches too many movies that stereotype everything. I like where I sit, I can hear the teacher loud and clear despite the bofoons that make noise in my row which consists of the head jocks and leading cheerleaders.
I also enjoy the fresh breeze that caresses my skin from the window, plus I have a great view of the door and hallway.

"I'll be handing out your grades from last week now," the teacher Mrs. Jack who's a slim redhead with big glasses and lose-fitting clothes informs and picks up a stack of papers, doing as she stated.

From this angle, I can observe those who did well and those who did not from their body language the second they get a peek at their paper. I notice Uche's cheeks spread in a grin and she certifies it by turning to wink at me with a thumbs up after her paper is handed to her.

I roll my eyes at her with a grin of my own, and patiently wait for my turn. I don't have to wait for long as not up to a minute later, a piece of paper is slammed on my desk and I acknowledge the messenger with a tight smile.

I'm not surprised when I see a B+ circled at the top. I should have scored higher but judging by the fact it was a pop quiz, I did my best.

"Mr Williams, see me after class," Mrs. Jack tells at Terry's desk and strolls past him to the next person when he speaks.

"You see Mrs. J, I've got to have my beauty sleep after school before I head to a party in the evening," he conveys, reclining on his seat with a smirk. "My schedule is pretty booked, you can't have access to me today."

"I have something private to discuss with you," she retorts strictly.

"If it isn't about you sucking my dick then you can say it here, to the hearing of the whole class," he says smugly, folding his arms, and provoking his biceps to bulge, the jacket from earlier hanging at the back of his chair.

"Can you stop being a dickhead for a minute? It won't reduce a dime from your trustfund," Uche throws from her location.

"Can you stop being a can of soda for once? So short but still bubbly when shaken," he teases and the whole class falls into a laughing fit which he doesn't join in and redirects his focus to the teacher. "What's it gonna be Mrs. J, care to share that private information?"

"It's called private for a reason, but since you don't understand simple English I'll announce it," she breathes, clearly exasperated. "You didn't make it past a 5 in your test."

"5/10?" He questions cockily.

"No dumbass, 5/100," I declare to the hearing of everyone as I'm fed up with this class, not wanting anything more than to go home and stretch my limbs.

He blatantly ignores me after firing a scowl in my path and smiles widely at Mrs Jack. "That's not my problem. I don't need biology to run a multimillion dollar company, and, I don't need a high GPA to succeed my father after his retirement."

"Brat," I mutter under my breath as a series of ooohs and aaahs accompany his statement. I even notice some girls give him the smitten look and I snort as he basks in the attention.

"Also, I'll be sure to let my father know how poorly you think of his only child. Maybe loosing this job would do you a lot of good." He scoffs and everybody stands as the final bell rings.

"Cocky bastard," Uche grumbles as she reaches me, the class already half empty thus no one can manage to be in this school longer than necessary.

"Tell me something I don't know," I grimace when I lift my bag and notice how heavy it is.
"I'll need to offload these books in my locker before I leave, if not I'll get a backache during my walk home."

"Don't worry I'll go with you, maybe use it as an opportunity to grab my maths textbook in case if Mr Jerry hauls a pop quiz at us." She grins up at me due to the slight difference in our heights.

"You don't have to, I can manage," I say knowing she's just doing this as a kind gesture.

"Are you sure? It won't be a bother really," she insists, however I shake my head and tap her shoulder the moment we are out the door.

"I'll be fine don't worry." I beam at her concern and nod for her to go on without me. "I love you bitch."

"Love you too cow." She blows me a kiss and turns her back, treking to the exit while I turn the other way in search of my locker.

I reach it, put in the combination and pull it open. Unzipping my bag, I retrieve the hefty books with a grunt and put it unceremoniously into the iron box.

After I bang the barrier shut, I swerve to take my leave when I'm startled out of my skin by another sound coming from the lockers ahead, hence I thought I'm the only one left in this hallway.

I see a back retreating and continue in my strides to freedom when my feet stomps on something soft. I pick it up, turn it over and the first thing I see scribbled atop the thick cover is the name Terry Drake Williams.

Freshy❤️