“Go away!” I yelled, speed-walking along the road, to the bus stop that was about five minutes away. “Leave me alone!”
I pulled my hand away, just as Nate grabbed for it. Glaring at him, I crossed my arms across my chest.
“Did you think that would stop me?” Nate asked, smiling flirtily.
“Do you want to die?” I screamed, blushing red (I had to see the doctor. Why was I turning red all the time?). When I get flustered, I forget all about my hard training, and just lash out. I kicked his shin, hard.
“Ow!” he cried, holding his leg. “What was that for?”
“Just…stay away!”
He did as I said, and kept about thirty feet away. I slowed my pace, safely out of the arm’s reach. Just as I near the end of the road, the bus rushed past.
I cussed, and started to sprint, but suddenly, I was yanked back.
“What –?” I said. I looked up, to see Nate. He had his hand on the inside of my arm.
“Don’t run for it. It’s too late.”
I was still staring at the hand. Who gave him the right to touch me? I closed my eyes, and started counting in my mind. If in five seconds, he doesn’t get his hand off me, I will officially kill him.
Five. Four. Three.
“Ade…what are you doing? You have a really scary look on your face.”
Two. One.
I struck out, slamming the heel of my hand into his forehead. He stumbled back, wincing. That should’ve killed a couple brain cells. If he had any.
“What the hell was that for?”
“Don’t touch me. Ever again.”
“Ade…” he said, staring at me reproachfully, giving me a “wounded puppy” look. I don’t think he understood why I hit him. Idiot.
“Shut up, Nate,” I snapped, rubbing my now rapidly swelling wrist. His head was like a rock.
***
In the end, we had to wait another half an hour for a bus. By that time, we were seriously late, and the only school kids on the bus. I tried my hardest to ignore him, but by some humongous twist of fate, the only two seats on the bus were right next to each other. Nate didn’t really seem deterred by the times I’d hit him. I thought freely, as he chattered on about new school, and old friends. Was Keri really right? Did Nate…like me?
I glanced at him. I had to admit, he was every bit as good-looking as his brother. He had high-cheekbones, thick lips and long eyelashes that were totally wasted on a guy.
I looked at my own reflection in the bus window. I’d always had boring hair. It was jet black, and completely straight, volume-less. I actually had no idea my hair was “boring”, until Mom threw a magazine at my head, screaming that I needed a haircut. I loved my Mom so much.
My face itself was pretty average. All of the genetic glory had gone to my brothers, and I was stuck with a normal body. When I was about eleven, I accidently cut my hair off, and people thought I was a boy – mainly due to the jeans and scruffy t-shirts, I guess. And the fact I had no chest. It never really bothered me – coach told me if I had a big chest, it would be harder to fight. So I’m happy with that.
I stared at myself, then stared at the boy next to me.
He realized I was staring, and gave me a dazzling smile. I looked away quickly.
