1642734778_punk-57-pdf

Masen pushes off the lockers, still holding his straw as he chews on it,
smirking. His friends follow, all of them chuckling.
He must’ve thrown his soda from over there, into the garbage can.
Prick.
“Sorry, Rocks.” Masen pulls the straw out of his mouth, a cocky look in
his eyes as he stares at me. “Didn’t mean to make you dirty.”
His words are filled with innuendo, and his friends laugh louder around
him. I flex my jaw, dying to slap that smile off his face as he and his new
friends walk away, down the hall, and toward the lunchroom.
He never fails to make an impression, does he?
“Jerk,” Lyla grits out. “I’m going to the bathroom to clean up.”
She brushes past me and Ten follows her, shaking his head with an
amused smile. “We’ll meet you in the lunchroom,” he says as he passes.
I turn and reopen my locker, taking out the cashmere scarf Masen
ruined. It’s already dirty, so what does it matter? I dry off my legs and
ankles and throw it back in the locker, making a mental note to take it home
tonight and get it cleaned.
The bell rings, and I head to the cafeteria, actually feeling hungry
enough to leave my books in my locker today and eat something.
But when I pass the Physics lab, I see something dark come at me on
my left, and I barely have time to realize it’s Masen before he shoves me
through the door. I stumble into the empty classroom, sucking in a breath as
he shuts the door and advances on me, backing me up into the wall.
My heart pounds in my chest, and butterflies flutter in my stomach. But
I stamp it down. I look at him with my hands on my hips and my chin up,
forcing myself to look calm.
He stares down at me, not saying anything as his chest touches mine.
The room is dark, except for the dim light coming through the windows,