Back Off

"Hey, hey, Kyrie," I hear him start.

"No."

"Aw, come on, I haven't even said anything yet."

"Still no."

"I just want to know a little bit about you."

"Definitely no."

"How about yes or no questions?"

I turn and stare at him. So freaking annoying. I sit in the back corner of the classroom just to avoid this very situation, but the teacher was apparently feeling cruel today and rearranged the seating. Internally weighing his pestering against his questions on the annoyance scale, I sigh heavily. "Choose your questions carefully, or I'll demonstrate why everyone else leaves me the fk alone."

He seems surprised, but doesn't hesitate. "Do you have a favorite color?"

"Yes."

"Is it black?"

"No."

"Is it blue?"

"No."

"Is it silver?"

"No."

He pauses briefly and seems to get bored with that line of questioning. Ah, sht. Bored Foster is never a good thing, and neither is the mischievous expression on his face. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"A girlfriend?"

"No."

"A lover?"

"No."

"Any love life at all?"

"...No."

"A sx life?"

I glare at him hard enough that my control slips and the legs of his chair freeze to the floor. "Try again."

He appears almost triumphant, but changes topics. "Do you think your roommate would be a good lay?"

I just roll my eyes at him and don't bother answering. His next question catches me off guard, though. "Is it true you look smoking hot in a bikini? That you're actually super fit under your extra-baggy uniform?"

I genuinely consider decking him right then and there. For one thing, my uniform is only baggy because I'm short. My measurements changed over the last break, and my uniforms are still being altered to fit, so I've been forced to wear the closest size to mine... which means the cuffs are rolled up three times and the torso is four inches too long and has enough room to fit a second me if neither of us had breasts. I might have had better luck with a woman's uniform, but then this man-slut would be trying to peek up my skirt instead of poking at me.

I throw him a considering glance. Hmm... that could work. Supposedly, the alterations to my school swimsuit should be finished today. "If you want to see me without clothes, you'll have to fight with me first."

His eyes spark at the challenge. "Yes. Absolutely. During lunch."

--four and half hours later--

The match is surprisingly easy. Foster might be smart, but he doesn't have a lot of fighting experience. I take care to make it extra insulting by fighting in my uniform, which isn't designed for exercise and has a lot of extra material due to the size difference. As he squints up at me from his position on his back in the dirt, I smirk. "Oh, right. We have swimming class next."

He stares at me in utter shock. "You- you tricked me!"

I snort. "You only realized that now?" I turn to leave, shedding my oversized uniform as I do. Our school swimsuits are designed to completely reveal the stomach and back while still technically being one piece, with strips of fabric down the sides holding it together. Nobody here cares about nudity, so I head toward the school's natatorium in just my swimsuit, leaving Foster gaping behind me. As I reach the door of the sparring gym, though, I pause and turn back. "Oh, right. If your goal was to see me naked, I should probably warn you. Not only do you have the wrong plumbing, the last guy who tried to get me naked is now missing some important anatomy." I shoot him another smirk at his horrified expression. "Consider yourself warned, Aduant."

Foster Adaunt.

Everybody's heard his name. Even Meissa Ralph, the awkward nobody who's never done anything notable.

"Foster texted me last night!" she'd heard one girl bragging in the bathroom, before Meissa opened the stall door and they shut up. She only used his first name, but evryone knew who she was talking about. Nonetheless, as Meissa left the bathroom she heard one of the other girls go- "Foster Adaunt? The Sun boy?" As if she kew multiple boys named Foster.

Fortunately for Meissa, Foster had never looked her direction, let alone took her to bed, as he seemed to have done with most of the school. She didn't even know how averse to the idea of being with the renowned asshole she'd be, and that's what scared her the most.

Unfortunately for Meissa, he's actually smart- must've finally been coersced into the higer classes, for now he sat in the back of her English class.

In her seat.

It was the seat all the wy in the back, halfway between the window and the door. And it was perfect. It was everything. And now this prick sat in it, despite there being empty chairs on either side.

"You're in my seat," She stood at the desk, crossing her arms and scowling. He had his legs on the top, shiny shoes dangling off the edge as he leaned back casually on the chair, tossing a little ball of light from hand to hand. He looked at her, surprised, then looked down, surveying her.

"And you're not wearing shoes."

No. Of course she wasn't.

"So? Could you move?"

His eyebrows raised. She felt heated. He was hot. No pun intended. he threw the little ball of light back into his palm and it disappeared. She kept staring.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" He asked, still not moving. the other students had begun filling in. a few threw disapproving glances when they saw Foster, and looks of surprise, and even resignment when they saw Meissa. She tried not to think about it.

"None of your business. You've plenty of other seats, but I've sat here the whole year, and I would like to continue sitting there," Meissa softened, hoping that she wasn't being too confrontational. "Please?"

He smirked.

"I don't know. I quite like it here."

Meissa frowned. She really wanted to sit there, and this boy was being an ass.

"I'm gonna kick you." She pouted, not really knowing what to say.

At this is eyes widened in mock terror. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, well in that case..." He laughed, but tapered off when he saw her serious expression.

"Fine. How about you tell me your name, and I'll move."

"You don't need to know my name."

Too many made fun of her enough.

"Meissa Faunch, I know you're excited to meet our new student, but please sit down!" Her English teachersnapped from the front of the classroom. The bell rang the moment she started.

She huffed, shooting a murderous glare at the infuriating boy. His stupid brows were raised once again in triumph. Whatever, she thought. She'll just get here extra early tomorrow. She would've stomped to the seat in the back, closest to the window, except for the cold tiling they had on the floor here. Her barefeet wouldn't do too much stomping.

She fought to break dress code. You wanted to force her inside you're gonna shove her massive, calloused feet into shoes? and socks? no way. At least her pants- well, shorts really, at this point- reached her knees. Wearing such short skirts would be a crime with her curves.

She didn't really have an ability- Meissa was chosen by the natural spirits as their little plaything, and through them, she had a sort of magic. Where as most would fear a storm, she'd never needed to. If it was a punishment of mother nature, her adopted daughter would run safe among the destruction.

None of that was any of Foster Adaunt's business. And for some reason that was really hard to understand.

As soon as their teacher released them to work on their journalistic projects, Foster got up, swinging hs shoes off of her desk and sauntering over to her, like a stag with hrns to heavy for its head.

"So, Meissa Faunch-,"

"Don't talk to me." she muttered, scribbling notes in the margins of the article she was reading.

"Oh well- my apology, Miss Faunch."

She could feel him staring at her as she scribbled, his golden eyes burning a hole in the side of her head.

"Miss Faunch, you've got something in your hair-," He half stood reaching to tug something out of her mane.

"What the hell?" Meissa jerked back, slapping his hand away. He sat there shocked.

"I'm sorry, was that a family member of yours?"

One of the kids in the row in front of them heard, sniggering.

"No, Mr. Adaunt, that was a twig. Welcome to Honors English." She shot back.

"You know my name," he smirked.

"Hard not to when you've screwed half the school."

At this the kid who'd laughed early dropped his pen, ad the id behind him turned around. Meissa stared at him until he turned away. Didn't take long.

"Not quite half," His smirk didn't leave, and she heard him lean back in his seat, propping his feet back on the table.

The leaves in the tree outside the window jittered as the breeze dance through them.

"Shut up," she mumbled, and it danced even harder before prancing away.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" He quipped. How bored did this guy have to be?

"Not to you," She mumbled, because apparently he had good hearing.

"Oh. were you-," he stifled a laugh, "Were you talking to a tree?"

She didn't answer. She'd been through this all of her life. She shouldn't have been in this damn school, but the wind led her here, opening the locked doors as teachers were preparing for the coming year, and she chased butterflies right into their offices. They decided that the small child must have some magic, and accepted her immediately.

She still fights with the wind about it.

"Hey, Miss."

"It's Meissa."

"Okay, Miss. can I go home with you after school? I really need help with this assignment."

She rolled her eyes. "You're not funny, assho-,"

"Mr. Adaunch, I think that's a lovely idea. Meissa, you'll be welcoming to our new student." Their English teacher piped up, conveniently.

"Thank you, proffesor Wilkerson!" Foster beamed, almost glowing.