Intervention

3. Rules

The next morning, I arrived at school thirty minutes early instead of yesterday's fifteen. I got a pretty sweet parking spot, relatively close to the main entrance. Jake was already standing by the front entrance, tossing his football into the air. God, what time does his get here each morning?

"Hey babe." He said, tucking his football on his side and leaning in for a kiss.

"Hey." I mumbled against his lips. Hmm. For some reason, his kisses didn't feel the same as it did before. I almost don't feel like kissing him anymore. If I wasn't dead bored of Jake, I was now.

I was telling Jake about hanging out with Henson and the boys and how they're so much fun. He kept giving me a glare like he's either angry with me or of the boys.

"What?" I asked.

"So you like those losers." He said. Losers? Seriously? The Jake I thought I knew is calling my favorite people in the school so far, losers.

"How the hell are they losers?" I asked, arms crossed against my chest. "And don't say because of the vandalism rumors."

"Babe. They do nothing but get drunk, graffiti the city, and be the reckless, hopeless, and the broke douche bags that they are. Hell, I won't be surprised if they do drugs."

The only thing I noticed in his sentence was broke. Even though he didn't mention it as the first thing on his list, it probably was.

I was speechless at his reasons why Henson was labeled a 'loser' so I did the one thing I loved to do, walk away and wave goodbye.

"Sam, comon'!" He yelled, but he didn't follow.

Mare was striding down the hall with her little clique like it was a runway. Her heels clicked loudly with each step. I have to admit, it had rhythm. She stuck her tongue at me as she walked by. Wow, really? And how old is she?

I watched her as she approached Jake, who was tossing his football again, as if I didn't walk away from him. Mare is doing this flirty stance with her toes pointed to the ground, spinning her hips. Did she just bat her eyelashes?

"Are you jealous or something?"

Oh god, that voice. I didn't even bother turning around to see who it was.

"You know, I'm just going to keep thinking you're a creeper if you don't stop creeping up on me." I turn to face whom I already knew was Travis.

Even when I'm expecting to see his face, who would have thought that it still sent an intense feeling to my core once my eyes met his.

He was leaning against the locker, arms crossed against his hard chest and one foot up, pushing against the locker. He was wearing a plain white tee that was just fitting on his perfect torso and dark destroyed jeans.

Travis looked insulted by my words. Crap, is he going to stop talking to me now? And why the hell would I care if he stops talking to me!

"Have I offended you somehow?" He asked. His question caught me off guard. I really can't answer that. He has not offended me. But he has annoyed the hell out of me.

What could he possibly want from me? Like Alexis said, he doesn't approach girls. So why approach me? And he's so consistent with it. I hope he isn't expecting me to throw myself at him because I won't. Even when every piece of me is dying to touch is rock hard abs. Luckily Bitch Sam is holding me together, or else I would have shattered in pieces the moment I saw his panty dropping half smile.

We're staring at each other now. Or well I'm staring at him. He's just waiting for me to answer his question.

"I don't know." I replied, raising my chin up and shrugging. He let out a chuckle. He take his foot off the locker. "You are," he rubs his chin, trying to find the right word. "Just something else." He said.