Seven: MTOABB

MTOABB

"Are you ready to go?" He asks.

"Go where?" I ask as I lock my locker.

"I'm dropping you home."

"Zack, this - all the stares and whispers have now started to revolve already me," I say, not making any motion to move from my locker.

He stares at me, places his hands in his side pockets of his jeans, and continues to stare.

"Are you not going to say anything?" I ask.

"Are you done speaking?" He says and I'm taken back a little.

Zack isn't rude -- not my Zack.

"Are you ready to go now?" He says.

"I've said my piece," I say, regardless of how much I think I love him, I can't have him think he has an upper hand.

"I've heard it and I still want to drop you home."

If it was any other day, I would have swooned and gone home to ponder on why I hadn't been recording his words.

"Do you like me?" I ask.

I don't know what came over me, but before I could allow myself to go with him anywhere on Saturday, I had to know if he was just taking me on a ride before dropping me off like every other girl.

"How about you let me take you home and I'll answer that question," he says as he draws out his hand for me to take.

At least I stood my ground for a firm five minutes, but right now, I need to feel his hand on mine.

We walk in silence side by side. Girls stop to stare and I have the need to lock myself in a room and stay there till the wandering eyes disappear.

I roll my eyes as I realise my insecurities were kicking in.

"And that's for?" He asks as he stares at me.

"What?" I ask, seeming confused.

"The eye roll."

"It was nothing," I say as I come to a standstill in front of his car.

"Right."

"For what?" I ask.

"I like you." He grabs me by the waist and draws me into him.

"It's obvious you like me too. Who wouldn't?" He smirks as he moves to open the passenger door for me.

"A jock that opens doors for girls, you're probably my type of a bad boy," I say as I climb into the car.

"Since we're talking about a type, you're not really mine."

As that leaves his mouth, I think of Juliet - I might think he is my type, but I might not be his.

"Right, I'm not pretty enough to fit your type."

"Are you always flaring your nose when you're angry?" He asks and a piece of my heart breaks.

I know I have imperfections, but that is what should make me perfect - or am I just saying that to calm my insecurities?

If he isn't saying I'm pretty enough then maybe this is him taking me on a ride.

I stay quiet, trying my best to not acknowledge him, but how could I not - Zack is always on mind -- I'm forever thinking of him.

He pulls up in front of my house and I am grateful. A pang of sadness etches at the corner of my heart -- my fantasy was way better than my reality, where Zack was concerned.

A long oppressed sigh slips out of his mouth. He doesn't bother to move nor unlock the car doors.

"Zack, I need to get out," I tell him.

"I'm always on edge with you. I'm not lying when I say I genuinely do like you, but it's been a while since I've had a girl that's mine."

A girl that's his? Me?

Is this his way of asking me out?

And wait -- thought Zack doesn't do girlfriends.

I search my brain for a question that will keep him talking but all that comes to mind is "Are you asking me out Zack", but I don't say that, not wanting to jump the gun.

"A girl that's yours?" I ask instead.

"I'm not good at being romantic - actually I'm not a romantic person, so this is me saying that you're my girl without us even going on our date on Saturday yet."

Way to shatter all the romantic plots I had planned for us both, Zack.

"You're not even asking me, you're telling me that I'm yours. Who's to say I don't have another guy waiting for me somewhere." My mind pops up Prinse Gomes and I hate that it did, because I only want to focus on Zack - who happens to now be mine.

"I'm asking you to be my girl," he says, searching my eyes for an answer.

"I'm saying yes to being your girl," I say.

"This is the part where I kiss you," Zack says bluntly.

"You won't get a kiss from me that easily," I say, thinking quick on my seat, as I am not standing on my feet.

"Because it's your first kiss?"

My body tenses up.

Wait - What?

He knows? How?

"Huh?" I say.

"First kiss with me," he clarifies and my shoulders relax.

My Type of a Bad Boy

"Chloe, I need my curling iron for tonight," I say making my way towards her bedroom door.

"There's it," she says pointing at the untouched iron on her dressing board.

"You got what you wanted, finally you can stop moaning about being miserable."

I stare at Chloe, already getting my thoughts together before uttering a word. "I guess bad boys are my type after all."

She tilts her head in laughter before checking her notification.

"What has got you checking your phone so fast," I ask curiously.

"It's just Prinse, no one that important," she says with an eye roll.

I...

I just stare at her.

What do I say to that?

I shouldn't feel any sort of way -- I'm with Zack now.

But...

Why would he text her out of everyone?

I grab my curling iron and exit her room, leaving her laying around her cluster of clothes on her bed.

My Type Of A Bad Boy

I ring the bell, not waiting to think so that I will change my mind.

The creak of the door notifies me of it's opening and I wait patiently for the person behind the door to show themselves.

"Hi," she gushes, sounding surprised. "What brings you here?" She asks.

"Hi Ms. Gomes, is Prinse around?" I ask, gazing to the floor.

"He went out to do errands. He'll be back shortly," she says not making any motion to let me in.

"Umm... thank you mam, may you please tell him Rossita was here to see him," I say very unsure of myself.

She bursts out in laughter as she opens the door to invite me inside.

"I'm Prinse's older sister, Jordan," she says as I take a seat in the living room. Everything seems to be untouched - the red roses (now fresh) still stood in its original place on the kitchen counter.

"I'm..."

"-Rossita, you've already mentioned," she finishes my sentence and sits on the single couch.

"So are you and him sleeping together?" She asks, glaring at me with curiosity.

Why is she asking if him and I are sleeping together-- is a girl like me not capable of being in a relationship with a hot boy?

I wish I could make it clear that I'm worth being with -- not only physically, but emotionally.

I shake my head, not knowing what else to say to her.

She smiles and I take it as if she pitied me. I want to get up and leave but somehow my brain doesn't seem to function -- I mentally tell my legs to wake up and get the rest of my body in a standing position, but here I am - still sitting like a good little girl.

The front door opens and I jump at the chance of it being him.

"Glad you're home, you have a very sexually aroused visitor who can't seem to stop fidgeting," Jordan says bursting into chuckles as she walks in Prinse's direction and exits the room.

"I..."

Prinse walks in with his phone in one hand and a smirk on his face - until he sees that it's me.

"What are you doing here?" He asks.

"Shouldn't I be here? Am I not wanted here?" I ask standing up from the couch.

"Not what I meant," he says.

"Don't worry about it, I have already overstayed my welcome, but before I leave - Are you now interested in my sister?" I ask, trying to control my anger.

"What?" He asks confused.

"Are you sleeping with Chloe?"

"I'm not sleeping with her. Why are you asking me this?" He asks, trying very much not to seem annoyed.

"You two have been texting back and forth," I say.

"Am I not allowed to?" He eyes me.

"Not with my sister," I say, crossing my arms.

"Why is that?"

"Because..." I stutter, not knowing what else to say.

"Because of what exactly?" He moves a step closer and I somewhat feel small.

"I don't want you to be with her. I know that makes me a bad person, but it's how I feel."

"What is it that you are feeling?"

"I don't know," I say and he nods moving another step closer, and this time I could smell his scent. He captures my eyes in his and I'm scared if I look away, the magic will disappear.

"Put your hands up against my sweater," he whispers.

"What?! And your sister calls me horny," I gasp.

He chuckles. He takes my hands in his and places them on his covered chest.

"I want you to stare at me."

"Why?"

"Because this time I am going to kiss you."