Lusting For Elliot

:Part One: Chapter Two

~Chapter Two~

There was no such thing as stubbornness where I came from. When my dad asked me to do something, I did it with no questions asked. When my step mother asked me to do something, even if it grated on my nerves, I did it with little to screaming questions. And when I was expected to do something, I didn’t fail.

There was one person who didn’t care.

Elliot Dupree!

I’d tried catching him after class to talk about the assignment and had gotten the worst disappointment of my life. Angel my foot, he was so damn arrogant.

“Elliot, wait,” I’d called, earning a few speculative glances. The boy with seriously beautiful hair and gorgeous eyes walked on, laughing with his friends.

I’d groaned, because I’d had to now run after him if we had to talk. I’d done just that, but not the running. With quickened, large steps, I’d caught up to him. “Elliot,” I’d called.

His whole frame had tensed and he’d turned around almost daringly. He’d searched the crowd as if he couldn’t see the annoyed to be short girl right in front of him. I’d huffed. “Down here, Elliot,” I grumbled.

He’d questioningly glanced down and his eyes had mockingly widened, and then the smirk had come on. Damn it was hot! “Hey there, shortie,” he mocked, blue eyes direct and full of mirth. “I’m sorry, but this is the high school, the middle grade is right down there.”

His friends had blown out laughing, and I’d been just about ready to punch him. See, right there. He’s a complete jerk. “Wow, what a comic,” I said. He winked and I blushed, much to their amusement. “Listen-”

He whistled, glancing at his friends. I’d known immediately that what would follow next would be misery. “As much as I like my girls, I have a specification,” he said, and then his eyes had turned almost disapprovingly. “Unfortunately you aren’t in that category.”

Mouth hanging open, my fist clenched at the sore disappointment in his voice. “Excuse me!” I was baffled by his audacity, and that was shocking and sorely disappointing. I thought blonde hot shots were sweet and charming.

He sighed, almost miserable. “But here’s the thing,” he said. “I’ll give you my number so that you don’t feel bad for getting blanked.”

I shook my head, waving the assignment sheet at him. “I don’t want your number,” I amended uselessly. “We have-”

He faked remorse. “Chemistry?” he said. “I know sweetie, that’s why I’m giving you my number.”

And he pulled out a pen from his pocket, snatching the paper from me and scribbling some numbers. “Hey, that’s my paper,” I cried pathetically.

He shrugged, smirking as he and his pals started walking away. “You have to work on being selfish first,” he said. “Either way, I’ll see you, shortie.”

And he was gone. But I kept on shouting after him, still baffled at the events that had taken place. “I’m not after you,” I shouted, still he walked on. “It’s not like that,” by then they were almost down the hallway. “Hey, Elliot, are you stoned or what? I’m not interested.”

That part was baffling enough that he glanced back, but then a conceited smirk formed on his lips. It was both gorgeous and chilling. Fake, I realised. “That’s why they call me Stoner.” And then he was gone.

Mouth hanging open, it only took me seconds to realise the paper contained six numbers, and then the cursing was rolling out. “Conceited, arrogant jerk that’s more selfish than a lion,” I grumbled, hoping no one would hear me.