Star shone again
By Kiara Olive Leery-White
Our star can't help his junior even in sweaty Uganda, can he? Watching him going sweaty, horny, and tucked at the same time was entertaining. Let's just hope she was good enough- is written below the photo, the very same photo I had taken. And destroyed.
Hold on, did I even destroy it? A sweat formed in the corner of my forehead. I didn't. I told Miles to do whatever he wanted with it. It'll only make sense if he-no he can't. Miles won't ever do something like that to me.
Except for he always has these stupid death wishes in the 'most stupidest' times.
I look at Miles over Ashton's shoulder. He meets my eyes and he shakes his head: I didn't.
Then who else-
My thoughts are interrupted when Ashton tightens his grip on me. For a moment I almost forgot he has me captive.
I have nothing to do with it, I wanted to say. But again, the column is published under my name.
No, wait! The column about Ashton Fellan, which is not about how fucking handsome he is or how awesomeness he plays, is published under my name.
So much for following one rule. Rule 20; broken once. I should buy stickers to mark how many rules I've broken. Not that I've broken one before today since freshman year.
I gulp and look at Miles once again. There's something about the look of his eyes. Like he's pleading not to mention his name to Ashton.
The last bell rings.
I'll explain later, Miles mouths as he and Grace fly away. Traitors. Wait until I get out of these deathly grips.
I can tell why he's so afraid. There's a reason I made that rule. Ashton is not someone you will like to mess with. And if I bring up Miles' name, Ashton will beat the life out of him. Except-he can't do that to me. Because I'm a girl. And which gentleman would hurt a girl?
Okay, rule 20 is already broken once, I can't risk rule 19 either.
So I make up my mind and flash Ashton my sweetest smile. He doesn't even bulge.
Oh well, it was worth a try.
I try it again. This time I look at him directly in the eyes.
I heard girls swooning about his crystal blue eyes so many times. But they were so-so wrong. Because his eyes aren't crystal blue. They are electric blue. Magnificent electric blue. And they have turned shades darker as he glares down at me. I can almost feel the anger radiating out of him.
My eyes move down his face, his chin, he has an amazing body. My eyes slowly move up to his plain dark brown hair. Which has only two probability: i) He jelled them this way; ii) He woke up from the bed like that. I hope it's not the first one because that will make them sticky. Not ideal for running hands. And he looks so-o fuckable-
"I would've suggested you take a photo which will last longer," his deep voice whispers in my ear. "But that'll be too cliche. Not to mention we don't have all day."
"I have a boyfriend," I remind him as well as myself.
He replies with his infamous signature smirk that all those girls gossip about. "That's not gonna help your case," he says. "Moreover, I doubt your goody-two-shoes of a boyfriend will mind even if I fuck you right now."
His friends snicker behind him. My cheeks burn in embarrassment.
For a moment, it felt like Ashton read my thoughts from earlier. But on the second thought, I doubt he thinks about anything else than fucking girls.
"We're already late for the first class," I tell him.
"That's my point exactly," he nods. "Better hurry with your explanations."
I sigh. There's no point in trying to do it with him in an easy way.
"What explanations?" I ask. "I have nothing to do with this article. I can see it's published under my name but I swear I've never seen it before."
He loses his grip on my shoulders only to grab my arms before I can make a run. "But that's not that Jonah guy said."
"Jonah?" I furrow my brows.
"You know, the leader of your tiny group."
"You mean Jason?"
"Same difference." He waves a hand dismissively.
I hate him more than ever right now. I mean who doesn't know Jason? He's the president student of the council for god's sake. And our committee isn't tiny. Sure it's not as famous as the football team is, but it is something.
But of course, Ashton Fellan would care less about that little information.
I wanted to get it through his head, then again, I don't find myself in that position.
"What did Jason say?" I ask instead.
"He said you and that Miles guy went to Uganda last summer, at the same time when I went there. But Miles said he doesn't know shit about photography or own a freaking polaroid."
"I don't own a Polaroid too," I say. "That's for-kids." I don't mention the Nikon which has been resting in the back of my closet for years.
"By the way the photo was great. I would've paid you millions for that one," Owen says from behind Ashton.
I blush. I seem to do that whenever people praise my photographs.
"We-will-discuss that some other time," Ashton grits out with clenched jaws. Then he turns back to me. "And also Miles said he didn't take the photo. In fact, he told me that he never saw this picture before today."
Of course, he didn't, did he now?
"Hold on," I narrow my eyes. "You believe Miles's words but not mine?"
He only shrugs. "All the evidence is pointed at you."
"And you think I would ever use such a language on a column? I don't even say those words loudly," I point at the paper. "Clearly, it's a boy who wrote this," I add judging the choices of words.
He seems to consider it. "That's true-I don't think anyone ever heard a swear coming out of that virgin mouth of yours-" Say what?! "But there's no one else other than you in the suspension. Just because you don't usually use those words doesn't mean you can never use them." He finishes stubbornly.
Way to go Fellan. Such a brat.
"Whatever it's just a photo," I tell him. "There wasn't anyone left in the state to know about your reputation when it comes to girls."
"You-you-" If I thought Ashton was furious before, then I don't know how to explain this new emotion on his face. "Do you have any idea what that article of yours had done?!" He yells.
"How am I supposed to know?!" I yell back. "I just arrived when you decided to chase after me," I tell him a half-lie.
"So you admit you took the photo?"
"Look I can explain," I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Yes, I took that photo. But it was by an accident," I say. "But I also threw it away right then. It was way too gross for my liking."
Ashton seems lost in words. "I-I thought it was long gone," a smile creeps its way on my face. "Do you think it flew from Uganda just to show the world your true color?"
"You-you-"
There's no one else in the hallway except for me, Ashton, Owen, and another friend of his. Great everyone is in their respective classes. Except for the four of us. The other three may not have a problem with skipping one class but I have. I can't risk my Ivy League.
So I take the matters into my own hands. Or shall I say into my own legs?
Before Ashton can find his lost voice, I knee him, a perfect bull's eye. He screams and loses his grip on me and he falls on the ground screaming.
His friends try to catch me. But in one swift move, I open my backpack, bring out the pepper spray and spray it on their eyes.
I knew this would come in handy one day.
They join Ashton on the floor. I do a little victory dance before remembering my first class which started almost ten minutes ago if I'm not wrong.
Moreover, these three might start recovering from the injury soon.
So swinging my backpack over my shoulder, I make my way to my first class before giving them one last look.
"See you in the afterlife boys." With a mocking salute, I run down the hallway. They're still groaning in pain. I remind myself I shouldn't have done that last thing.
Well, the damage can't be undone. Giving it one last thought, I shrug and skip to my class.
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