Chapter Two | Talia

"You must be new," A female voice says to me, her face hidden by her open locker. "I've never seen you around before."

The locker closes half-way, revealing a pretty girl with long curly black hair and soulful brown eyes. "I was hoping it wasn't too obvious." I say, shifting the weight of my backpack around. "I just transferred from Boyd Anderson."

"I'm Simone by the way," She pulls a literature textbook out from her locker. "And I heard that's a rough school."

"It's definitely not for the weak," I agree. "I'm Talia ."

Boyd Anderson was a dog eat dog kind of high school. Students were getting into fights at least three times a day, drug deals were made in the bathroom, and the students were in charge of the teachers.

"Where's your schedule?" Simone asks upon slamming her locker shut.

She's got a small, willowy body and a music note tattoo just below her left ear.

I wordlessly hand her the schedule my guidance counselor had given me just a few hours ago. "Looks like we have Literature together and the same lunch. You should sit with me." Simone hands me back my schedule.

"Thanks." I really planned on just keeping to myself these next few semesters and finishing out my senior year alone, but Simone was making it impossible not to like her. How is she doing that? My guard is usually unwavering and unshakable- but I like Simone. I can see us being great friends.

In the halls, there's a group of girls leaning against a row of lockers talking, laughing and honestly judging others as they walk by. My eyes lock with one of them- she's insanely gorgeous with her long brown hair, blue eyes, and pouty pink lips. She seizes me up and down and I stare at her head on, unafraid and definitely not intimidated by the look she's giving me. She might be a queen bee here but at my old school I'd make girls like her cry.

Her blue eyes widen once she realizes that her mean girl look doesn't work on me. Instead, she settles for rolling her eyes and turns her attention back to her friends.

"Who's the brown-hair Barbie?" I ask Simone.

"That's Addison Meyers," Simone answers. "She runs this school."

"Of course she does." I roll my eyes.

"You seriously don't want to get on her bad side or she'll make your life a living hell." Simone warns me.

"I'm already there." I say, just as we come to a stop outside of the last room down the hall. Simone enters through the door first, heading for a seat in the back of the classroom. I did a quick scan of the room seeing that most of the seats were already filled and the first two rows were filled with just girls.

Interesting.

I scoot myself between rows of desks and take the only available seat in the back of the classroom right next to the door. Simone is two rows over and when I look over, she sends a friendly smile my way before taking out her cellphone.

I place my backpack on top of my desk, unzip the large pocket, and pull out my notebook and also pull out a pen. I manage to scribble today's date at the top right corner of my paper before looking back up at the front of the classroom where the teacher is.

His back is turned towards us so I can't make out any features beside his over six feet frame and wavy blonde hair.

I watch as he scrawls his name on the white board. Mr. Cross.

"Come in and sit anywhere." He tells us as the warning bell rings. A few more kids rush in seconds later, taking up the remaining empty desks just as the final bell rings. "My name is Mr. Cross and welcome to AP Literature..." I tune out the rest of Mr. Cross's words the second he turns around to face the class.

There he is, the sexy stranger from the diner yesterday. Dressed in a tight blue and white plaid shirt with a striped blue and white tie underneath a navy sweater with a pair of light khaki dress pants. His dark brown eyes go wide and his mouth drops open as he stares at me.

Flashes of him sitting across from me with unmistakable lust in his eyes as he stared at my lips comes to mind.

Fuck. This has to be a joke.

He clears his throat. "I hope everyone had a great weekend. I'm gonna go over the attendance. So just say 'here' or shoot your hand up in the air when I say your name."

"Who can concentrate with him up there?" One girl who is seated next to me says.

"I swear he gets hotter every time I see him." Says another, a boy, sitting next to me on my left.

"He can teach me a thing or two." I recognize Addison's voice.

"I still can't believe he's a teacher. If I had his family kind of money I'd be off living on a boat somewhere exotic." The girl seated on my right says.

The moment I saw him I knew I was in for hell of a senior year. I flirted with one of my teachers. Hell, I knew exactly what I was saying when I told him he could get into my business anytime he wants.

This morning I thought about him, but I knew I would never see him again. And anyways, I needed to focus on making it to the end of my senior year. I told myself that this was my way out of Doom City; that I wouldn't let anyone distract me, yet here I was staring at Nick who is a walking and honestly sexy distraction.

Mr. Cross goes on reading off a list of names before finally coming to my name. "Talia Davis." I hesitantly raise my hand in the air.

He barely looks up from his list of students to look at me before he continues to read the rest of the names.

For the remainder of the class my thoughts were filled with only Mr. Cross and not in a way a student should think about their teacher. He told me yesterday that he's a teacher but I never would've imagined he'd be my teacher. Out of all the schools and all the grades... What are the odds?

As class goes on, he explains the curriculum for the year and goes over the syllabus for rest of the school year and I find myself baffled. The man standing in front of the room and the man who sat across from me at the diner, were two different people. He was vicious in the classroom, not caring in the slightest how a student felt as he patronized them for not being able to explain their answer more thoroughly and in depth to the point where I could swear I saw tears roll down her cheek after he finally turned his attention to another victim. The man who made me smile and opened my door for me was nowhere to be seen. It seems that there's two sides of Nicholas Cross. And I, for better or for worse, wanted to know them both.

All too soon, the bell rings signaling the end of the class. Students practically jumped out of their seats and rushed for the door while I remained seated, unable to move.

"I'll see you at lunch. Look for me." Simone tells me, her bag already on her back.

"Sounds good." I smile.

Simone smiles back before following the other students out the door. I managed to zip up my backpack and safely tuck away my pencil and pen before standing up, only to realize I was the only student left in the classroom.

I took a breath, somehow summoning the courage to go up to his desk. I look behind me to check if any other student entered the room before grabbing a syllabus off the desk.

Nick sits in his swivel chair pulling out a new stack of syllabus, refusing to meet my gaze.

"You're my teacher." I say, in utter disbelief.

"And you're my student." Nick replies, sounding just as surprised as me.

"Out of all the schools..."

"Looks like fate wanted us to meet again." Nick tells me. "You must be new?"

"I am. I applied for a transfer from my home school months ago and finally got accepted into here last week when a spot opened up." I explained.

"Good for you. I know this can be a tough school to get into."

"Thanks." I smile. "So uh, about yesterday..." I start.

Nick waves me off. "Relax Talia. It was before either of us knew you were my student and nothing happened besides good conversation and a friendly meal."

"You're right." I breathe a sigh of relief.

Nick smiles. "I know this school can be a little overwhelming, so let me know if you need help finding anything or have any questions. I know I don't look like it, but I actually have a clue or two about what goes on at this school."

"Thanks. I will keep that in mind Ni-Mr. Cross ." I quickly corrected myself.

That sounded so weird. He's Nick.

Just Nick.

"Oh," Says a female voice, sounding startled. I turned my head to see a stunning blonde woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties if I had to guess. She looks put together and mature in a red turtleneck and black wide leg pants dress and black heels to match. "I didn't realize you were letting students in already." She looks at Nick.

"Miss Davis was in my first class and she was just leaving." Nick says, motioning towards the door and I take that as my cue to start leaving.

I turn and head for the door.

"You must be new. I've never seen you around before. I'm Mrs. Carver." She introduces herself, holding out one of her manicured hands for me to shake.

"I'm Talia." I shake her hand.

"Were you guys talking about something important? I can come back." Mrs. Carver twisted her body as if to go.

"No, no. I'm leaving. I would hate to be late on my first day." I say. "And you're gorgeous by the way." I tell her with a friendly smile before finally walking out of the room.

Once I'm in the hallway again, I can feel the annoying ache in my chest at the thought of Nick and Mrs. Carver together.

There was nothing that gave away a clue that they might be more than just coworkers, but the fact that she's a beautiful woman closer to his age than me didn't make me feel good.

A bell rings and once I realize that's the warning bell I push my feelings about Nick to the side and sprint down the hall as fast I can, imagining Andrew Lincoln is waiting for me in my next class.

I manage to put Nick and Ms. Carver behind me for at least fifty minutes until I see Mrs. Carver sitting behind her desk symbolizing her as my third period Pre-Calculus teacher and unlucky for me, I'm the first one there.

She looks up from her laptop and a smile that doesn't reach her eyes greets me. "Talia right? Come in. Come in." She ushers me. "Sit close. I promise I won't bite."

I make my way towards the rows of desks in the front and take a seat, feeling rather awkward.

I'll definitely be sitting somewhere else tomorrow...

"I hope you don't spit when you talk." I say, partially joking.

"This is a spit free zone." Ms. Carver smiles at me.

I give her a small smile in return before placing my backpack on top of my desk so I can pull out my binder for a blank sheet of loose-leaf paper. "So, it seemed like you knew Mr. Cross." She says to me,

"Not really. He was just welcoming me to the school." I answer.

"Well Mr. Cross doesn't usually associate with new students."

"How come?"

"Well the students don't call him The Devil in a suit for nothing." She giggles.

"Yeah, he can be a little harsh." I agree, thinking of the poor girl he made cry.

"A little word of advice? Stay off his radar or you'll regret it." Ms. Carver tells me just as more students begin to file in the classroom.

Was that her professional advice or her personal one?

The problem wasn't staying off of Nick's radar, the problem was he was now on mine.

•••

Kerrington's cafeteria looked more like a mall food court. There were signs for different food options and multiple blue booths strategically placed around the room and white round marble tables with four blue chairs around it.

Once I have my pizza and soda I scan the massive cafeteria for Simone but when I can't find her, I give up and take my food with me outside.

Since most kids decide to eat in the cafeteria and the other half are still in class it's fairly empty outside with only a handful of students walking around the quad.

I lower my head to dig for my cell phone with my free hand when I suddenly walk into someone, dropping my pizza on the ground. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I look up from my pizza to see that it's Nick.

I mean Mr. Cross.

"We've got to stop meeting like this." Nick says, looking as handsome as he did this morning in class only this time he wasn't wearing the glasses.

What a shame.

The same familiar prickling sensation crept over me and crawled under my skin.

"There goes my lunch." I stare longingly at the slice of pepperoni pizza on the ground.

"I apologize. I was not paying attention-"

"Neither was I." I cut him off.

"You can go buy another slice. I know the line should have eased up by then." Nick says.

I shake my head. "I used all the money I had."

"Oh. In that case, you're more than welcome to have my sandwich." Nick says, and it isn't until then that I realized that he's holding something shaped like a sliced bread wrapped in foil in his hand.

"I can't take your food." I shake my head.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not that hungry anyways." He holds it out for me to take.

"It's fine. I'll just drink some water from the fountain." I argue.

"I insist." Nick says and I cave in with a sigh because fuck it, I am hungry.

I take the sandwich out of his hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"You can't keep buying me food." I tell him.

"Technically I bought the sandwich for myself and you guilt trip me into giving it to you." Nick says.

"Hey, I wasn't-" I start to argue but Nick laughs.

"Talia, relax. I'm just messing with you."

I glare at him before shrugging my shoulders. "I'm surprised you even eat this stuff." I admit.

"Why?"

"I just figured someone with your money would only eat gourmet meals."

By the time my third period ended I managed to find out that Nick is the son of the richest family in Rosemary Beach as well as the most sought after bachelor.

"Ah. So you've heard about me?" Nick says, walking over to the oak tree.

"That you're one of the wealthiest men in the country? Yeah, I've heard." I say. "So why are you teaching?"

"I thought I told you yesterday."

"Yeah, but you could be a teacher in Princeton or some other Ivy League school." I argue.

"I wanted to stick to my roots." Nick answers before squatting down on the grass, propping one leg up.

I squat down next to him as gracefully as possible before offering him half of the sandwhich he accepts.

Very few students are this far out from the quad so I'm not worried about people seeing us together.

"Between the diner and right now, it's a little hard to picture you in a suit and tie at the dinner table."

Nick chuckles. "Yeah, well, that's exactly how I grew up. It wasn't considered a meal unless it was served on a white cloth and required at least three types of forks."

"My mom was the complete opposite. Dinner was pizza and burgers and canned Chef Boyardee."

"What about your dad?"

"Never met him. He and my mom split up before I was born."

"He's missing out on the amazing woman you are." Nick tells me.

I blush. "What about your parents?"

"Miserably still married." Nick answers, making me arch my brow. "It's a long story and I don't want to bore you."

"I don't think that's possible." I tell him.

"Why are you out here anyways? Shouldn't you be inside trying to make new friends?" Nick asks, changing the subject.

"Quality over quantity," I reply. "The one friend I made today wasn't in the cafeteria and besides, I don't really mind being alone."

"You're not like most girls your age are you?" Nick stares at me intently.

"No. I'm not. Is that a bad thing?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Nick answers before breaking our gaze and taking a bite out of his sandwich.

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