2 Chapter 2

This day cannot get worse.

I stare down at the screen of my phone for a good three minutes before closing my eyes and slumping back into my chair. The teacher's voice fades into the background as my mind whirls with the possible outcomes of disobeying the text I just received. It's from someone I haven't spoken to in a really long time and I desperately wished to keep things that way. But he's not someone I can simply ignore, no matter how much I want to.

'Meeting in the office. ASAP.'

Surprisingly, he texted me from his personal number, meaning he did it himself. The fact that I actually cross his mind is mind-blowing in itself. Usually, I'm invisible to him. I'm talking about my grandfather. The man that blames me for the death of his son. I avoid him like the plague because, even though I know my parent's death was not my fault, his words are like poisonous darts that always hit me harder than they should.

Ding!

I glance down at my phone again at the sound of the low ding.

'Bring Blackwell with you.'

I freeze up at once. Wha- Who? My fingers fly across the screen as I frantically type in the reply.

'What for?'

I wait for five minutes. Then another five. When the reply doesn't come, I blow out a frustrated breath and rub my temples. He probably saw it and ignored me completely.

Fuck!

"Miss Reynolds?"

I look up at the man standing at the front of the class, giving him a blank stare. He's trying to look stern but it's obvious by the nervous fidgeting of his fingers resting on the table that he probably regrets calling me out. "Yes?"

"You must be aware that you're not allowed to text during the class."

His eyes flicker down to my phone that's still in my hand. I was about to put it down when an idea hits me suddenly. "Shall I leave then?"

For some reason, he turns white. I blink in surprise at the sudden change. "No, no, no. I'm simply asking you to put the phone-"

Ding!

'He's in room C4.'

C4 is English in the class three doors down mine. His secretary probably called the office and asked for North's schedule. I sigh and start packing my stuff. Mr. Mark, my History teacher starts speaking again. "Miss Reynolds, please-"

This time, his phone rings. A low buzz of conversation starts in the class, probably the beginning of another rumor about why I'm going out so suddenly. I pay them no mind, stuffing my belongings into my bad. The last time I talked to North was a month ago when I was forced to visit the Blackwell mansion for a 'friendly' dinner. We're rarely found together in the same room, now I have to sit inside a car with him for about half an hour. I'm already starting to feel the heavy dread. What will I do then?

North bears an overwhelming aura that comes off of his proud figure. He's always aloof and cold, silent but calculative. He has a commanding presence that no one can ignore, even at such a young age. It is that aura around him that triggers my flight instincts. Other's are always awestruck by his excellent appearance while I, first and foremost, detect the danger that lurks beneath his dark eyes and fluid movements. I'm not ashamed to say that he scares me sometimes, even though he has never done anything to harm me, nor will he ever do so.

After zipping my bag shut I look up at Mr. Mark to see him nod at me. With a sign, I check my phone one last time before stuffing it into the pocket of my jacket. He turns around to start teaching again when the door of the classroom swings opens. All of a sudden the air stills.

I look up, subconsciously knowing already who it is.

North Blackwell.

The familiar quicking of my heartbeat snaps me out of the short daze his sudden appearance put me in and I get up from my seat, bag in my hand. Almost immediately, dark obsidian eyes land on me, sending a slight chill down my spine. I keep my eyes on the tall guy standing at the door, watching as the harshness of his sharp features fades away slowly. My shoulders relax unconsciously. Multiple eyes drill hole into my back as I stop in front of North, habitually dropping my eyes down to his broad chest.

"Hey," he greets. His deep voice is lowered but in the pin-drop silence of the classroom, it is still clearly audible. "Ready to go?"

I nod curtly, ignoring the sharp gasps coming from behind me. North moves aside, holding the door open as I brush past him. He shuts the door and I start walking down the hallway just as he falls into step beside me. Even with heels, my head only comes up to his shoulder. I glance up at him when my arm brushed against his, stupefied to see his dark eyes fixed on me already. I look ahead immediately.

Gosh!

This is what I'm afraid of. His eyes are always on me when I'm somewhere close to him and even though I'm used to people staring openly, I cannot handle the blatant curiosity his eyes display.

For God's sake, who wouldn't get nervous when stared at by your crush?!

I gather my courage to speak the words stuck in my mouth and take in a deep breath, which, of course, gives me a lungful of the spicey fragrance of Eau D'Aromes by Giorgio Armani. I recognize it instantly because it was me who gifted it to him on his birthday. The silly teenage girl in my heart squeals with delight and I feel the heat slowly creeping up to my cheek but I keep the stoic mask on my face, not daring to look up at him in case he saw through me. Just as I open my mouth to speak his voice cut me off, once again leaving me stupefied.

"Are you nervous?"