~Louis~
She was beautiful -no, stunning- and outrageously so. Even I would give her that. But that also made her all the more dangerous. I couldn't let the bulge in my pants distract me from what I really needed. She must have been everything my parents ever wanted for me: beautiful looks and her own claim to royalty, wealth and fame that didn't involve using me to get it.
Of course, being American she was a bit rough around the edges. She even thought that I was going to hit her for sitting in my seat. I wondered if that was really how Americans acted, or if it was something from her past that made her react that way towards me.
I shrugged it off as just another strange American thing that I'd probably never understand and soon realized that I was staring at the girl. Malia Echols.
I realized she'd opted out of using her Spencer surname by choosing to go by the less formal Echols title. By the bewildered and out of place look on her face the moment I set eyes on her, I noticed that she really wasn't accustomed to the upper class society and way of life.
Staring at her heart shaped face and oval crystalline blue eyes, I began to imagine how soft her pink lips would feel being crushed underneath my own, how her smooth skin would feel under my rough hands, calloused by years of hard labour I'd endured for the sake of staying 'grounded' as my parents had called it.
By forcing me to do the same chores as the underprivileged, they believed I would suddenly gain a new respect for the life I was given and all of that other horse shit my parents would feed me day in and day out. I didn't like the way it tortured my smooth hands, but it did wonders for my upper body and core strength, giving me a muscled physique that any other man would have had to work twice as hard in the gym to achieve.
I allowed my thoughts to wander back to that of Malia, of how soft and sweet she was. But I could tell she was holding something back, a guarded look in her eyes. I wondered what really happened to her, if she had really been in a car crash or if there was another story behind her guarded eyes and fearful expressions.
I also wondered what secrets laid there inside of her, just beyond the surface. It was like she was a puzzle and all I had to do was peel back her layers one by one, just like the layers of clothing she had on...
I shook myself out of my lustful reverie and finally looked away from her, telling myself that I didn't care about her secrets and that I didn't care anything about her, but then I realized it was five minutes until class was over, and my staring seemed to do a number on her. I liked the fact that I could unnerve her, the fact that something that I did could make her feel something, anything. I didn't care if it was a negative or positive emotion. Maybe five more minutes of staring wouldn't hurt...
God, I really needed to get my boners in check, otherwise I'd be banging her by the end of the bloody week.
***
~Malia~
He stared at me the entire class. Literally the entire class! It was like he knew just what to do to unnerve me. Thankfully that was the only class left until lunch and I took a deep breath as I noticed Lizzie beckoning me over to her table.
"Hey!" I said to her enthusiastically. She smiled and pulled me into a hug I wasn't expecting and realized that she was sitting at a prime table location, one that everyone in the entire cafeteria was staring at.
Great, my first day and I was already drawing extra attention to myself by sitting at the popular kid's table.
"Malia, you've already met Raina, but this is Mary," she said pointing to a girl close to her. She had red hair and a sweet smile. I waved back politely.
"This is Jessica," she said, motioning to a girl at a table beside ours that was enough distance away to be seen as separate, but close enough to have full on conversations with everyone at each table. I wondered why they didn't just push the two tables together until all thought left me and I was left staring at sexy mystery guy again who loved to stare at me and make me feel ridiculously uncomfortable.
His tall figure languidly walked towards our table and I held my breath, barely noticing the two other guys trailing behind him like his lap dogs. I recognized one of the guys he was with as Henry, the dark and brooding stranger who barely said a word to me. The other one, with light blonde hair and a stick like figure was completely new to me.
"Oh, great, now we can finish our introductions. Malia, as you already know this is Louis and this is Henry, but you haven't met-"
"Robert Kingsley, pleasure to meet you," he said, taking my hand into his.
With the name that came out of his mouth, my entire body locked up and I started shaking, although I doubted anyone would have known that unless they were watching me very closely. I could feel the snake of terror wrapping itself around my neck like a vice and I could feel the flashback coming on with full force.
I saw the black dots in my vision before I remembered the night that was just over a year ago.
Robert was seriously drunk and unhappy, mourning over the loss of his dead wife, my dead mother. He had only been a stepfather to me, and I knew he could drink but I never expected what he was going to do to me that night.
I dropped one of his beer bottles on the way to give it to him and the string of curses that left his mouth at me would have made my mother turn over in her grave. I was crying by the time he crouched down and picked up the broken bottle shard, shattered just like my heart, just like my entire world.
I tried to picture Daniel in his army suit, smiling happily at me in the many pictures he had sent me from overseas. I thought of his pearly white smile, his happy nature making me glow from the inside out.
That is, until I felt the shard of the broken bottle stained with the beer he was supposed to be drinking pressed against the sensitive skin of my neck.
It was cold, but not as frigid as the achingly frosty sensation that coiled around my body, ensnaring me in its trap of pain and fear. Robert would forever haunt my nightmares after that night, and I knew that there was no getting rid of him, no matter how hard I tried to wipe the blood from the bathtub the night after it happened, after I fell asleep in my shower trying to wash away the stains of what he did to me.
"Malia?" I felt a rough arm jolt me back to reality and I flinched back in fear, my crutches clattering to the floor with a sound loud enough to make the entire cafeteria take notice of the events occurring before them.
Everyone was looking at me like a freak, and the guy who introduced himself to me as Robert looked like I had just killed his puppy. So he had the same first name as my abusive step father, so what? I needed to stop freaking out and having flashbacks in the middle of school, otherwise I was going to be a social pariah. That was worse than being popular.
I plastered on a fake smile.
"Sorry, that's the name of an old boyfriend I used to have, it just caught me a little off guard. Sorry to startle anyone," I said coyly, not giving anything else away.
"Are you sure? Oh you're crying," I heard Lizzy say and absentmindedly wiped at my face and looked at the wetness on my hand with curiosity and confusion. I hadn't cried in over a year. I wondered how that could have happened without me even knowing it.
Perhaps it was my body's way of telling me to deal with it and let my emotions out, but no, if I did that then the wall would come down and anyone would be able to hurt me. I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't. I refused.
"Psycho," I heard the man named Louis say out loud.
"Arrogant ass," I said just as loud back to him. A collective gasp could be heard around the table and at surrounding tables around me.
"What did you just say to me?" he asked me, moving dangerously close to me. I had to balance myself on the table behind me with both of my hands seeing as though my crutches were in a heap on the floor.
I gulped at his nearness, my eyes wide with what he was going to do. Then I remembered, we were at school and he couldn't really do anything to me, not in front of so many witnesses.
"I said, you are an arrogant. Ass." I pointed my finger into his chest with each passing word and I didn't miss the sly smirk that passed on his face when I didn't immediately pull my hand away from his very hard, very defined chest.
"Finally, a woman with some honesty in her," he said with light humor and the tension at the table was visibly more relaxed.
What, did I just insult the king of Wilmington Prep?