𝐼𝓃𝒻𝒶𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹

Chapter 9- When The Playboy's Left Wondering

Chase's P.O.V.

I removed my headphones from my ears, and tossed them aside with a groan. I gazed at my latest art piece, my eyes glazed with concentration on the canvas. I kept wondering which strokes and what colors would make this piece more mysterious and newer than the rest. But my mind was on one thing. A thing which no matter how far I pushed towards the back of my brain, it managed to plop back on it's earlier surface. Music would help. But not for too long.
Fuck me for not charging that phone of mine.

This particular thing slash incident was the way Cris had so fucking easily guessed a part of the root cause of my problems today. My parents. The reason for my kind but workaholic billionaire of a father and pretentious and psychotic bitch of a step-mother in the past. My real mother, was an epitome of a generous person, but as luck would have it, she died when I was really little.
It was the reason our- our would be my little sister and I- childhood had one parent like figure, if you exclude my dad: our housekeeper, old and stern but sweet and caring Miss Audrey.

Cris reckoning, though a tactic to insult me, proved one thing: she was pretty tough.
Or acted tough. It took me a long time to get over her insults.

What would be better than seducing then dumping her as a payback, anyway?

Her maturity for one, and the way her face was an emotionless mask which occasionally displayed a quirked eyebrow or a smirk on those soft lips, revealing any humor felt in the conversation. These features showed me that she had a concealed personality.

And all that drew me closer to her. She was concealed.

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I spent another three hours on the painting, and two more for the finishing touches. The way I get lost in my paintings is pretty fun, to be honest.

I walked over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and plug my phone to the charger. The condo looked much more neat since my condo cleaning program yesterday. I grew carelessly haughty on the matter.

As soon as my dear phone charged the littlest percent, I ordered some food for I was proud and lazy due to my effort on painting for six constant hours.

The order arrived within half-an-hour, and I plopped down on the sofa to watch anything preferable on the huge wall tv.

The hot player's a spoilt boy too, eek eek.

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I stepped out of my condo and locked it, and drove to Worthington High. The cool brumous winter morning was pretty relaxing and mood-downer both, somehow.

On my arrival, the Reckless members walked over to my car and greeted me with high fives and gossip I couldn't give two flying damns about.
We settled on the white benches on the courtyard some perched upon the white wooden tables attached to the benches, as we talked and laughed loudly, receiving constant stares and giggles and whispers. Couldn't be more famous.

My eyes searched the entire courtyard, but Cris, Amber and the others were missing. I mentally sighed and dived back into a piece of gossip my friends couldn't shut up about, until the bell rang. We walked to our classes, carrying along an air of popularity and vanity.

Just as soon as we were about to enter our homeroom, Justin nudged my elbow. I raised an eyebrow in response.

"Don't mind me, but I've been wondering about the quick pace you can run at. Rumors fly around, you see." Justin said, a playful smirk on his face. He was new to the school, and his strong and tall physique, along with the experience of playing basketball for five years got him a position in our team pretty fast, as one of our teammates had left the school some time ago.
Not all of the male basketball players, though some of my closest friends were members of the Reckless too, actually.

"Those rumors are true." I chuckled.

"Really?" Justin replied, and before I could comprehend what he was doing, he grabbed the Wuthering Heights copy, lent by Ms. Halsen in pride of my reading interests, and raced out the door, forcing me to put up a, well, chase.

I quickly glanced at the currently teacher-less class, then raced after him with a smirk of my own. He wanted to know my speed? I'd tell him.

I sped after him, dodging squeals, curses and students. He neared the corner of the hallway, then disappeared past it just as I was about to reach him and bumped hard into a brunette, her waves of hair that cascaded down her shoulders, her back turned to me.

She let out a low groan of pain, and rubbed her shoulder. Shit, my well-built muscles hurt her?
The voice of that groan was familiar, and I tried to recall it as I stopped right behind her, when she turned, with annoyance flaming in her russet brown eyes.

Fuck.
Cris.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She demanded, her tone filled with irritation as she took a deep breath, to calm her nerves perhaps.

I smirked sheepishly. "Shoot. Sorry. But I gotta go." I said.

"Leaving these papers scattered on the floor?" She said, quirking an eyebrow.

I glanced at a shitload of papers scattered around the linoleum floor, like the students who watched us in the hall.

I mirrored her expression, a quirked eyebrow. "I don't think I did that, hon."

"You did, hon. Your little collision with me made my file fall down." She said, giving me her famous death stare, as she kept her hand on her shoulder.

I rolled my eyes with the smirk still on my face. I'll listen to this girl for now, I decided, and bent down to pick up the papers one by one, ignoring the small gasps from the unneeded audience. I stood back up and put them back into the file cover, then held it to Cris.

"It isn't in order." She remarked, the tiniest smile playing on her lips.

I let out a small huff, then arranged the papers according to the numbers on top of each. I glanced at the title- A Conquest of Colonialism, Adversities and Benefits: The Period of British India.

I handed the file back to the brunette, and she let a small smirk crawl onto her lips.

"No thank you?" I asked, tilting my head to look at her right in the eyes.

Cris raised an eyebrow. "Thank you for knocking me over?" She quipped.

I rolled my eyes. "Fuck, sorry."

"Actually, it's Amber who deserves an apology, don't you think?" She said, tilting her head the slightest bit.

I huffed. "I'll think about it, milady." I said.

She quirked an eyebrow, then took a small step back. "That is, if you have the intellectual capability to do so." She quipped.

"Oh, my capabilities are many, I assure you." I smirked.

"Is it? I'm hoping they're some proper ones. Like intellect. Along with apologies." She said.

I smirked then roll my eyes. "'Later, smartass Beaumont."

She rolled her eyes, then slid past me as the bell rang. I stood there for a minute, my mind replaying the entire situation in my head. I leaned against a locker for a while, her beautiful face and sharp words on my mind. Then I huffed, and decided to walk back.
A smirk was on my face, after an unexpected yet close-to-serendipitous situation early in the morning.

Why did it seem as if whatever Cris did just drew me closer to her?

Justin appeared around the corner as I walked into my homeroom for the second time.
"You don't want this?" He said.

I snatched the book from him and rolled my eyes. "Fuck ya. I didn't know where you went."

"So I'm the fast one?" He smirked.

"There's a difference between a lizard and running human." I chuckled.

"Students, I'm asking for the last time, I want everyone to sit down." The teacher said.

We chuckled and dumped our asses on our seats.