Nicholas

by: Jess

DISCLAIMER:This story is not mine but the property of Jess and it's not to be used or taken without her permission! Thanks.

That kid was REALLY digging an early grave.

If he didn’t stop poking her, she was going to strangle him with her bare hands. She was going to swing around, grab his little scrawny neck, press her fingers against his windpipe-

“Roxanne, what about you?”

The demise of Jack Staples was cut short as she snapped to attention. Glancing up from her notebook, Roxanne saw Mr. Williams’ eyes on her. The teacher was leaning against the blackboard, hands crossed over his chest, mouth snaking into a smirk. Obviously he had seen her focus was elsewhere, and had decided it was the perfect time to ask her a question. A question she had no idea how to answer.

“Me? Well, I…uh…I…”

Great. Not only had she been caught daydreaming by the entire class, she had to sit and stutter like an idiot too. The thermostat inside her body quickly started to rise, and soon her entire face was red hot. All eyes were on her, waiting to see what would happen, laughing at the dark pink tint of her cheeks, whispering about her bad luck.

“Thank you for that wonderfully insightful comment, Ms. Clark. Perhaps next time you could tune in a little more?”

The young teacher winked at the girl and snapped his gum. He pushed himself from the board and started to walk towards her desk. “Continue reading, class. I’m just going to assist Ms. Clark in finding the right page.” Giggles filtered through the air as the students slowly turned their attention back to the textbooks. Chairs squeaked and pages rustled for a couple of minutes before everyone was totally concentrating. By the time Mr. Williams was at Roxanne’s end aisle, second to last row seat, the room was completely silent.

At least the poking had stopped. During her entire ordeal with the teacher, Jack had ceased his annoying habit. Roxanne knew he was probably playing it innocent now, running his dumb little finger across the lines of words, pretending he was the perfect student. That made her even angrier, and her want to kill him grew stronger. As soon as they were out of English, he was so dead.

“Roxy, what am I going to do with you?”

His hand slid over her shoulder and pressed down a little as he got on his heels. Now his face was even with hers, and he didn’t need to be loud he when talked. In fact, he could whisper.

Maybe it was the whispering that freaked her out. Or maybe it was how close his lips were to her ears. Maybe it was just his closeness in general. He was so near to her the strong scent cologne almost hurt her nose. It was too strong. So was his grip on her arm.

“You’ve got to pay attention in class, you know that, don’t you?”

God. She had thought this was over. He hadn’t done anything in the past week, except maybe flash that grin once or twice. She had thought that maybe he had moved on, given up, decided to just leave her alone. But now that familiar tone was back, the grip on her shoulder, the quiet whispers…all back at once and stronger then ever. He hadn’t forgotten - he was just planning his next move.

The awkwardness was almost unbearable. Her hands were sweating, trying to keep themselves busy. One was gripping a pencil, and the other ran over her necklace, both moving to a nervous rhythm. Under her shirt, her heart was beating double time, threatening to break the walls and her eardrums. Roxanne’s entire body started to shake, just slightly, just enough to cause her to squirm in her seat. Even with her eyes glued to the desk, the girl could see that crooked smirk on his face. She could feel his green eyes all over her; she could sense what he was thinking. Jesus, she had to say something. She hated this silence, the silence he seemed to thrive on.

“Jack’s the reason I wasn’t…following. He keeps…poking me.”

She mumbled under her breath, barley forming the words inside her abruptly stale mouth.

“Oh…is that the reason? Well, we could always move him if he’s really a distraction. I want your focus on me.”

He laughed a little, and his lips grazed her ear. I want your focus on me. Roxanne had to use all her strength to hold in a shudder. She felt a little faint too, almost like she was floating.

It wasn’t as if he was ugly. Mr. Williams was actually very good looking. He was probably somewhere around 28 years old, perfect build under his casual shirts and starched pants. Eyes to die for, raven hair always gelled back, perpetually tanned skin, white teeth…most of the girls probably would have killed to be in Roxanne’s position right now. And she knew that. But it wasn’t him, personally, that made her itch. It was his tone. The way he spoke to her, his swagger when he walked to her desk. His touch that was anything but casual. He seemed to be telling her that he owned her in some way. His smile informed her he had a right to treat her the way he was. Why else would he risk talking to her this way during class?

"You seem a little nervous today…is anything wrong, Roxy? Anything I can help with?”

“Sure…you could stop using my name like a toy, and you could go somewhere else.

Anywhere else…like...say…Antarctica?

"Mr. Williams, what do they mean when they say, ‘in the deepest depths of thy soul’? I can’t understand anything! Shakespeare sucks.”

The teacher looked up, and Roxanne could breathe again. His eyes were at last somewhere other then her face. David Levitt was complaining again. The kid was two rows over, leaning on his desk, waving his book around like a beacon. There was no way Mr. Williams could ignore him. Thank God.

“Go get a drink of water, okay? And when you come back, we’ll see if that distraction isn’t out of here.”

The pressure was on her shoulder again as her harasser stood up. His cologne followed him. But he didn’t move. He was waiting for her to do the same.

So she did. She stood up as quickly as she could, knocking her book of prose to the floor. Pushing her auburn hair out of her face, Roxanne stared at the floor and tried to book it out of the room. Of course she had to brush by Mr. Williams, and she knew he wanted it that way, but at least she was on her way out.

The water was cool on her face and neck. It slid down her throat easily, and she was glad to finally be at a regular temperature.

Straightening up, the smallish girl touched her lips. She took a breath and let it out slowly. The hallway clock promised only a few more minutes of English. Only a few more minutes of hell.

Snaking her way carefully through the doorway, Roxanne tried to tip toe towards her desk. Mr. Williams was still helping the distressed David. The boy was complaining so loud about the pointlessness of Shakespeare that she almost slid into her seat with no noise at all. He didn’t even see her. For the moment, she was spared. Closing her eyes, the girl continued to breathe deep, coaxing her heart to calm down.

Poke…poke…

Oh GOD! That was it. Jack was gonna get it. She didn’t care how much longer she had left. She didn’t care how loud she was. The little freak was the reason Mr. Williams had ruined her day. He was so dead. Right now.

“Jack, would you stop that?”

She swung around and hissed as harshly as she could at the skinny, pug nosed boy. She was about to open her mouth again, when she noticed something very important. She wasn’t talking to Jack Staples at all. He was not sitting behind her. There was someone else.

And a Someone Else he was. Taller then any guy she had seen in her grade, probably around six feet, maybe a little more. Blond hair, down to his ears, surrounding a long, bronzed face. Blue eyes, blue like ocean water, opened a little wider at her loud comment. A perfect mouth smiled a little, revealing the straightest teeth she had ever seen. His lips ended in a tiny dimple on his left side, and his jaw line was flawless. He chuckled a little, light, and easy.

The beautiful boy shook his blond mop out of his eyes and smiled a little wider. Holding out a perfectly toned arm, he extended his hand to her.

“Nicholas. And um, sorry about the poking thing. I was just going to ask if you knew where the gym was.” His face lit up after every word, a comical expression following each syllable. At the end of his introduction, he smiled again.

Oh boy.

Part 2