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Carmen forced a chuckle out of her scarlet lips. "Ever since you got here, bad things have been happening to me. Left and right. I keep having the worst of luck with you around."

"Yeah! Lots of bad things." Her friend snapped. I vaguely remembered her being in one of my classes. I couldn't remember her name to save my life.

I cleared my throat. "I don't know what you're talking about, Carmen. I've done-"

"Silence." She interrupted me.

"Yeah, shut up." Her friend demanded. "Don't talk to her, you peasant."

"Peasant?" I echoed and got back to my feet again. "We're in High School, not Camelot. Please remember that for future reference."

Carmen growled. "I said s-"

Her foot went right for me again, but I grabbed it mid-kick, catching it in the air. Twisting my wrist around, she lost her footing, tumbling down. I dropped her leg and sailed my own swing into her stomach, just like she had done to me moments ago. I went to kick her once more, but a difference voice pulled me out of my blind anger.

"You can't blame her for anything." The door connected to the gym swung close, revealing Dakota at the end of the hall. I wondered how long he has been standing there, watching us.

What was up with today? The rain made so many people feel like jumping into my conversations. I liked it better when people didn't try to defend me in moments like these. I could handle this on my own.

I touched the back of my head where I was struck, feeling a bump slowly beginning to form. I couldn't believe she had resorted to violence. And for what? I knew she was a crazy person, but the other time she had lunged at me, she had reasons. Surely she had reasons now.

Her nameless sidekick darted out the other end of the hallway when she saw Dakota.

"Rosemary!" Carmen shouted after her, but she was long gone. She dusted her hands on her pants and grinned up at her ex. "Glad you could join us, Dakota. I'll hold her down and you can get some punches in."

He held her gaze, tilting his head. "What for? She's done nothing to me."

"Oh, don't start acting like that now." She huffed, flailing her arms around. "You've been bad mouthing her since she got here. I know you have."

A pang of an unknown emotion slammed me in my chest, hitting me harder than any kick Carmen had sent into me today.

"I think you should get out of here, Carmen." He pinched the bridge of his nose, swallowing dryly. "You can't get in any trouble at school this year. You know you can't. If you leave now, I'll pretend like this didn't happen. Leave before I regret it."

Despite the fact that she was scowling him, she turned on her heels and strutted in the direction her friend had disappeared off to. What did she do that made her cautious to not start trouble? Whatever it was, she was willingly to put it at risk to beat me up.

Dakota brought a gentle hand up to my face, frowning at my cheek. "I think you banged your face on something."

I tapped my fingers to left cheek, finding moisture at my fingertips. I recalled banging my face on the water fountain when they hit me the first time. "I have some alcohol slips and Band-Aids in my locker."

I gave him a strange look. "What do you have alcohol slips and Band-Aids in your locker?"

"I eat them for lunch of course-what else would I need them for?" he snapped sarcastically. "I have them for moments like these. Why else would I have them?"

"No need to be a grumpy cat," I murmured, following after him. "Besides, I didn't ask for your help back there. I had Carmen on the ground and would've gotten to her friend if you hadn't broken up the fight."

"That wasn't a fight. That was an ambush." He rectified, proving that he had been watching us a lot longer than I thought he did. He probably saw whole thing. "Also, Rosemary isn't much of a fighter."

"She was acting really aggressive and intimidating, you sure she doesn't fight?"

"Her name is Rosemary. Please don't tell me you're afraid of a girl named after a fucking herb." He scuffled. "She doesn't even do anything when I see her with Carmen. Carmen only ever brings her along to pump up her ego and cheer her on."

I popped up a brow. "She brings along a hype-man?"

"Basically." He chortled. He started walking us toward the lockers in the main building. "I don't think I've ever seen Rosemary lay a finger on anyone. She only talks crap."

I nodded, absorbing in all of the information he was giving me. "How a-"

"I think that's enough speaking for now." He cut me off and we turned a corner.

"I was only going to ask a harmless question."

"I think you ask a lot of damn questions, Sandra."

"You say 'I think' a lot," I pointed out, "but you don't hear me complaining about that, Mister Sassy Pants."

"Mister Sassy pants?" He repeated, looking at me from over his shoulder. "Never call me that again. Matter of fact, don't call any one that. Ever. Especially a man."

"A man!" I busted out, chuckling.

"I almost eighteen, I'd consider myself a man." He deadpanned.

"How'd you get all those tattoos if you're not eighteen?"

"My brother is a tattoo artist. My mom's cool with idea of me getting inked-up, so she's been signing parental slips for me ever since."

I hummed to myself, absorbing his answer. I was pleasantly surprised that he actually answered it and didn't snap at me for questioning him so much. We got to his locker and I stopped next to him, waiting for him to pull out the Band-Aid and alcohol slips he had. He pulled it out of his First Aid Kit. It even had 'Dakota Ridgewood' written in beautiful handwriting over the top.

His penmanship was truly envious. My writing hand was only slightly better than the writing produced by my left hand. Basically, they were both equally awful. One was just more legible.

Flipping the First Aid Kit open, he retrieved the things he said he'd get for me. I wiped off the blood myself with the slips, crying out from the stinging pain. When I was done, he turned to me and told me not to move. He was taller than me by a lot so he hunched forward. A sweet scent left his mouth, dancing to my nose and tantalizing my senses as he leaned even closer to apply the Band-Aid over my left cheek.

The corner of his mouth raised.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Nothing," he shook his head, smiling even harder.

"What is it!?"

"You look like Nelly."

"Nelly Furtado?"

"No." He brought his thumb to the Band-Aid, outlining the edges. A chill shuddered up my spine from his contact, and the shudder only worsened when his icy blue eyes looked into mine. His fingers were cold, just like I would've imagined them to be. Like the rest of him. "I mean Nelly, the rapper."

"Oh," was all I could say in his alluring presence, hypnotized by the deep blues trapped in his irises. I hadn't paid attention to the last thing that came out of his mouth. I was paralyzed by the hand on my face, making a trail down my cheek and brushing his thumb over my jawline. I was hyper aware of the proximity between us, praying that it would decrease.

A door opening down the hall snapped me back to the real world. He jerked his hand away from my face--as if it burned him-- and he forced the First Aid Kit into his locker. He whispered something to himself, but it was too low for me to hear a thing. I could've sworn that he had said "Beautiful," but that could've been my ears, playing a sick trick on me.

If the bell couldn't have rung at a more awful time, I might've cried. It echoed in the hallowed hallways, causing students to pour in to them. Dakota rushed to push his locker close, but something fell out. He didn't notice the little black sketch book that plonked down on the floor. He vanished in the madness of students, not caring about the sketch book he'd let fall.

"Hey," I called out. But he was already gone.

I crouched down, collecting the book from off the ground. It had opened all on its own-honestly. If it hadn't been open, I wouldn't have felt obligated to look through the rest of the book. And what I saw was definitely a surprise.

It was me.

In black and white, sketched to an exact T. He even got the freckles over my nose and the beauty mark on my right cheek. He drew my eyes bigger than they actually were, but I didn't mind it all that much.

It was me.

Undoubtedly me.

At the corner, it had the words "Silvia" written in his signature handwriting.

"He does know my name," I hissed, a little ticked off. The date he had written under my name said this drawing was made before school had even started. It was drawn only days after Beth's party.

______

________ _

Song: Carmen by Lana Del Rey

Lyrics:

❝Only seventeen, but she walks the streets so mean

It's alarming truly how disarming you can be.❞

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