“It’s time for these foolish games to end. You are mine, Willow! I need you to remember who I am. I don’t know who he is but he’s been invading my dreams for two years now. I feel like I should know him but I can’t remember ever meeting him.
“Who are you?”
“Willow Johnson” I hear “Are you going to join us or are you just going to daydream your life away? The entire class erupts into laughter and I’m sure my face has turned an ugly shade of red. I try to hide my embarrassment by hiding behind my long blond hair but that is a tough thing to do when you have a 6’2 pissed off U.S. History teacher glaring at you.
“Um, I’m” I clear my throat. “I’m sorry Mr. Thompson.
“Now that you have decided to join us the question is why did America get involved in World War II?” His smile is smug as he waits for my answer. It was a good thing I knew the answer or I would look completely foolish but I wanted to do something to put this jerk in his place.
“In December 1941 the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, which in turn led the Americans to join in the war which was started because some crazy psycho was on a major power trip.” I throw the same smug look back at Mr. Thompson and I hear a male cough something that sounded like “It’s about time.” This was going to get me detention and my parents getting called but what would they care.
Turning my head and look over my shoulder, my eyes connect to a guy I’ve never seen and am very aware the fake cough came from. The guy is gorgeous with messy brown hair; it’s short in the back and on the sides, but long and messy in front. He has just got out of bed look and his style makes him even hotter. He is wearing a black leather jacket, a Breaking Benjamin’s T-shirt, and black faded jeans followed by charcoal riding boots. My inner conscience screams ’he is trouble and steer clear from him.’ I shake my head in hopes to clear my lusty thoughts. As I’m about to turn around and face my verbal berating, he turns so warm pools of dark chocolate lock with mine and I can’t move. My vision never strays from him and is as this guy can see into the deepest recess of my mind and discover all my deepest secrets.
“Miss Johnson!” Mr. Thompson shouts and forces me to look away.
“Yes.” Clearly he is pissed by his fiery red face and his dark green orbs tell stories of his hatred towards me. It’s no big secret he despises me since I’m the only one who has the guts to put this egotistical nitwit on a power trip in his place.
“Get your stuff and get out of my classroom now!” He fumes. “Don’t come back until you are ready to listen and stop acting like a spoiled brat.” I shove my notebook in my bag, stand up and as I leave the class I sneak another glance at the dark boy in question. He’s looking back with an all-knowing smirk, what is that about? The rest of the day I’m stuck with thoughts of the brown-eyed boy.