|••• Violet's POV •••|
I was going through the most critical part of my mystery book where it was hard to avoid biting nails and that's when the bell rings .
Great timing huh ?
I reluctantly get up, suppressing a groan and walk out of the library. My next class happens to be history.
Argh!
Now is the time where I assume you'd ask which subject I actually like. Well in my defence, none of the subjects have intrigued me enough to be devoted to it.
I swear history class is my sleeping pill and I am 100% sure that I am 0% certain whether how will I ever pass it.
To make matters worse, I have none of my friends with me which means I have no one to talk to and that surely will make me doze off to dreamland.
I take out my history book from my locker and walk towards my classroom. The class is almost filled up when I enter but the last two benches are still vacant . I am not really a last - bencher but with no other option, I make way to the second last bench and sit down waiting for the teacher. After a while , Mr.Jones, our history professor comes in and starts with the introduction as this is the first history class of this year.
Just as he began to teach the depth of the subject, Sam Ryder enters the classroom.
I repeat : Sam Ryder enters the classroom.
"At least bother for my permission." Professor said with disgust.
"Do I look like I care?" Sam says rather arrogantly and searches for a place to sit.
Please don't make him see me.
"You do realize that I can give you detention for this behaviour of yours, don't you?" Mr.Jones says doing his best to control his anger.
"Do I look like I am scared?" Sam says again with the same tone.
The amount of guts he possess makes my brows shoot the sky. Sir thankfully chooses to ignore him.
He walks up to the last benches and spots me, a notorious glint in his eyes.
Darn it.
"Already falling for my good looks?" Sam smirks at me.
His question arouses laughter to erupt out of my mouth but then I realize what I had been doing.
My eyes were following his every step since he entered the class as if he was under my surveillance.
I look around bashfully to avoid any conversation with him only to see the girls throwing me jealous glances.
I bet they must've thought of millions of ways to bury me six feet under the ground.
"Why are you sitting here?" I hiss at him.
"Last time I checked, it was a free country right?" He asks me, sarcasm dripping in his tone.
Of course it is. This line seems to be an universally adopted justification for any kind of questionable activity.
I shake my head at him and try to concentrate on what happened thousands of years ago.
As I actually focus all my attention to the chronological happenings of the past, my attentiveness was stolen by my phone vibration indicating that I have a message. I open it to see a text from Alec.
Alec : Hey violet! Guess what? We are back. I can't wait to see you guys.
A smile immediately forms on my face while I read it. I can sense his excitement just by his words. I think of a reply but my phone gets snatched away.
"What the ......." I whisper-yell.
"What the what?" He enquires with such an innocent face that one who didn't know enough might actually fall for it.
I really, genuinely, completely, totally, desperately , undoubtedly hate him.
Anymore adverbs left ?
"Hand over my phone now." I hiss.
"Not until I save my number." He mutters but I catch his words which make my eyes as wide as saucers.
I pretend to pay attention while thinking why wouldn't he let me be.
Few seconds later, I felt shuffling and saw that he kept my phone under the desk. I stare at him weirdly, wondering about my unanswered question.
______________
I feel that the theory of relativity is best understood by students as we wait for what feels like an infinity till we hear the bell ring. My thoughts were broken by the 'tring' sound which I was so desperately wishing to hear making me feel relieved. I walk out of the class and make my way towards the locker, eager to get away from Sam.
After I reach keep my books inside, I open my cell and delete his number without any hint of hesitation.
Just as my juvenile brain was joyous about the fact that I finally got rid of him, a message from an unknown number proved it wrong.
Unknown : I knew you'd think of deleting my number. You think you escape fast but not really that fast doll-face!
My hands curl into fists when I complete reading his message.
As I racked my brain for some smart reply, a sickening and frightening thought alarmed my senses.
The bad boy just noticed me.
~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~
A/N -
Hello readers!
I hope you liked it.
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Love always ,
KHUSHALI ~
YOU ARE READING
The Trap
Teen Fiction#EDITING# Previously known as- When the bad boy noticed me. Trap called chaos. Trap called emotions. Trap called life.
