This Delinquent Has A Secret...♥

This Delinquent Has A Secret...♥ (2)

He was, completely, and utterly, gorgeous. It was amazing. 

I swallowed once. his hair was his rich, dark brown, almost black color and it hung across his face, covering one of his eyes. And his eyes! They were the color of the sea. Deep, dark blue. I had never seen a color like that before. It was almost indigo, like an iris. 

He had a shiny, metal lip ring that glinted when he smiled at me. I cleared my throat. It felt like some sort of honor to be in his presence. And then I remembered; he was a delinquent. And he was dangerous. 

I looked around me, and everyone was exchanging hellos. "Hi. I'm Mackenzie." I managed to say. He smirked.

"I'm trying to figure out whether you're just another wh*re I get to play with." He winked.

I balked. Who did this boy think he was? I was not some sort of sl*t. Who knew the British boys would be just as vile as the Americans? I glared at him, clenching my fists at my side. "I'm not a piece of meat you get to stare at all day, and decide whether you can eat me or not. I'm a person." I said, scowling.

He smiled coldly. "Feisty. Just the way I like them." 

Who was Blondie kidding when she said he was a charmer? He was the most disgusting thing I had ever laid eyes on, judging by his personality. I should have known. Almost all boys are pigs. I sighed, and waited for the blonde lady to talk again. I really wished she would just tell us her name already so I could stop calling her Blondie.

"Okay, now that you've met each other, it's time to do our first activity!" Blondie said, clapping her hands. "We're going to be making chocolate chip cupcakes, with chocolate icing!" 

I frowned. "How is this supposed to help the delinquents?" I muttered. 

The girl beside me turned around. "I know, right? My name is Lynna." I smiled at her. "I'm Mackenzie." 

Lynna had white blonde hair and deathly pale, porcelain skin. She was really beautiful. Her hair hung down her back like a shiny sheet and she also had the lightest, blue- grey eyes. 

We all started filing out of the hall in two lines; one with the delinquents and one with us... normal people. Lynna slowed down so she could talk to me while we walked. "Is this your first year here?" She asked. I nodded. "I'm only staying for the summer though. I live in America." Her eyes widened. "Really? That's so cool. I've never been out of London. America sounds like alot of fun." I shook my head. "Don't believe everything you hear. London is more exciting." 

She giggled. "I suppose it all depends on your point of view. I mean, when you've visited all of the museums here billions of times, it really gets boring." I nodded. "I guess it does."

We entered another room, this one filled with tables, bowls and ingredients. Blondie instructed us to sit at a table with our partner. I reluctantly sat next to Ash, but kept a good distance away. 

There was a bowl and cake mix, so I poured the stuff in and added milk, while Ash cracked the eggs and added oil and chocolate chips. We worked in silence; but it was better than arguing over perverted things. I was still kind of shaken at his first words toward me. Was there anything other than sex that boys thought about?

Finally, I got up to put the mix into the oven, and we began to start on the icing.

"So," he started, as I mixed sugar, chocolate essence, and other things together. "My name is Ash. I don't think I told you that." Even when he was just talking, he never let down his thick exterior.

I shrugged. "Blon- I mean, um, her," I nodded towards Blondie, "told me your name already, anyways." He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so.. well, her name is Ms. Grinder. But everyone calls her buy her first name, Aima."

I chuckled. "Seriously? Her name is Aima Grinder?" She would be teased mercilesly; well in America, that is. Ash gave me a look. "What's so funny?" He asked coldly. Bi-polar much?

I snorted. "Um, nothing. It's just, that in America, if you named someone-"

Ash cut me off suddenly. "I don't care about what you do in America, so shut up ok? Bloody hell." He spat. I flinched and leaned backwards. "Whats stuck up your butt?" I muttered.

He must have heard me because in a second he was up and had me by the neck of my shirt. "Don't ever disrespect me that way again." He said, his eyes stony and glinting. I gulped. But even through my fear I managed to put my foot in my mouth.  

"Well whatevers up there, it must be sideways." I couldn't help saying. Another problem of mine; I have this bad habit of saying exactly whats on my mind. Usually, I'm too shy to say it out loud, and I mutter it underneath my breath. In America, usually no one notices, but this kid must have really good hearing. He caught every little side comment I had made so far.

Apparently, he didn't like my running commentary.

The next second I was on the ground and blood was oozing from the side of my lip.

"Fudge nuts you freaking idiot!" I yelled, holding my hand to my jaw. Excuse my wierd vocabulary. If my Mother hadn't told me how to be polite, I would have launched the f-bomb by now. Aima rushed up to me, holding a wet paper towel in her hand. "Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry! Ash Yale! Straight to the deans office! Joshua; go with him." She said, pointing to a boy with red floppy hair, and freckles. Joshua nodded, while glaring at Ash. "You prat, whats wrong with you?" He muttered as he grabbed Ash's arm and tried to yank him out of the room.

Ash sent me one death glare, and then wrenched his arm out of Joshua's grip. "I'll be back." He said, his voice laced with anger. Then he stalked out angrily.

I stood up, shaking, trying to keep tears out of my eyes. "Damnitt, this hurts." I muttered, pressing the cloth to my lip. Aima wrung her hands nervously. "The Dean won't like this, he wont. Not one little bit. Go on then, class, worse things have happened."

The rest of the class continued where they'd left off, aside from the volume of their chatter increasing a bit. Lynna gave me a sympethetic look as I held the wet towel to my lip and continued the frosting.

At least I now had a legitimate reason to ask to leave this school. But if my parents didn't agree... I was in for the worst summer of my life.