The Rebellion of Cora Hart

*Cora's POV*

After keeping up with my facade of uber-goodness in front of mum, I let the mask slip and took a deep breath. Mum dropped me off in front of the school gate, as per usual, and I sent her off with a sugar-coated-strawberry-dipped-in-chocolate-and-honey smile, and I walked into the school parking lot. My eyes scanned my familiar surroundings for a sign of The Devil, more commonly known as Jett Miller. My brow creased in confusion, as he was not in his usual parking spot, the most isolated and over-shadowed one. Everyone knew that parking space was his, even though there was no sign or any indication that is belonged to him. It was as obvious as a blinking neon sign screaming "This is Jett Miller's parking space, so fuck off."

He's probably just late... or ditching, I thought to myself, kicking the grey-white powder and stone around my pale pink loafers. Shit, if he's ditching, then I don't know when I'm going to be able to ask him for help. Who knows when he's actually going to turn up next.

Just as I thought this, I hear a powerful roar of an engine from behind, and whip around, my long-skirt billowing out from my knees in a very unattractive and stiff motion. A storm of dust and rocks sprayed up at me and a few others, and I took a careful step back, my right arm snapping up to cover my eyes as the spray pelted against my corduroy blazer. As I slowly released my shut eyes, I saw The Devil himself, perched casually on his ebony horse. Or, his jet-black motorbike, in this case.

Jett got off his bike and ran his fingers through his wind-whipped hair. No helmet for him. I guess he's to badass for that. He reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, which he never parts with, and pulls out a cigarette, placing it in his mouth and lighting it. He grabbed a tattered backpack from the small compartment of his bike, and walked towards the front entrance. As he neared, his eyes clashed with mine, and he smirked. I croseds my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes as he came to a stop in front of me.

"Are you going to yell at me this time? Or are you just so totally in love with me?" he said cockily, his eyes blazing with amusement and curiosity. And menace, of course.

"Oh, baby, I am so totally whipped for you. I want you now, no, I need you. Please, baby, please," I told him, rolling my eyes as my words drowned in sarcasm, mimicking all those love-sick heroines in old romance movies. Jett didn't anything and just watched me with an entertained expression on his face, taking a drag from his cigarette. "But I do have something I want to ask you."

"And do you think I will listen?" he asked, his brow rising slightly.

"You're listning now, aren't you?" I retort, returning his smoldering gaze with an equally heated one. "And if you don't want to listen, I'm going to make you."

"Oh, you're going to make me, are you?" he chuckled, dropping his cigarette to the ground and stomping on it, twisting his boot around. We were still standing outside the school building, everyone else already inside. The muffled drone of the bell resonated through the glass windows, but I ignored them. Another thing that I had never done before. I turned back to him, and he sighed, turning around and away from the school. "You're just another momma's-girl pretending to be something she's not. Now, run along to your beloved classes before you start to piss me off. I thought I'd actually turn up for once, but I can't be fucked anymore."

Jett started making his way back to his bike, and my stomach rolled as an angry surge of acid bubbled in my chest.

"Ah, fuck," I muttered, and ran forward as Jett started his bike. "Wait for me you dick!" Jett's grey eyes narrowed, and then his lips quirked up into a smile, showing off a row of straight, white teeth. I reached his bike, and without his permission, climbed onto the back. "So, you got a helmet somewhere or don't you?"

"No, and why would you need one?" he asked, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Because you're giving me a lift to wherever you're going. If you're not going to listen, I'm going to follow you until you do."

"Stubborn bitch," he chuckled, and shook his head, his messy black hair flopping over his eyes. "Fine, fine. But don't ditch me when you find out where we're going."

"Oh trust me- I won't."

~Later~

"U-um... so... can I ditch you now?" I stammered, as we walked down a deserted alleyway, filled with trash cans, cum and God knows what else. My loafer stepped on something wet and slimey, a sickening squelch reaching my ears. "I think I just stepped on something dead."

"Probably," Jett snickered, and then stopped. "So, what do you want to ask me to do? Want drugs? No, you're too much of a goody-goody. Want some of my cock? Nah, that can't be it. What is it, then?" Jett leans against a brick wall and discards his withered smoke, replacing it with a fresh one.

"I need your help," I stated honestly, grimacing as I extract my soiled loafer from a pool of green and yellow muck. "I need you to date me so I can get back at my mum." Jett was silent for a moment, and then burst out laughing, doubling over as I stood there, glaring at him. "What?"

"You are really..." he puffed, calming himself down. "What happened to your 'mommy's-little-angel' thing you had going on?"

"Eh, I guess I got tired of wearing these attractive blouses and skirts every day. You know how every girl loves her loafers," I sighed, and he snorted. "Anyway, are you in, or not?"

"It depends whether you've got what it takes or not," I told me, and raised his hand toward a battered green door a couple of metres down the alleyway. "I'll think about it if you go in there and get me a present."

"A present? Like... what?" I inquired cautiously, and he reached into his back jean pocket. He shook a little bag of white powder, and chucked it at me. Drugs, of course. "So, you just want me to get a bit of this shit and then we're good to go? So, got any money so I can pay for this?"

"Not quite. You're not exactly going to pay for it," he said, grinning sadistically. "Go in and steal it."

"Fuck. No," I told him sternly, throwing the packet of drugs onto the ground in front of his feet. "If you want free coke, then go ahead, but don't use me to get it."

"But isn't it only fair? You do a favour for me, I do a favour for you," he said, bending down to reach for the packet. He held it between two long fingers, and waved it in front of my face. "So no drugs, no deal, got it?" I gritted my teeth, and snatched the bag from his outstretched fingers. "Good girl."

"Fuck you," I spat at him, as I turned to the green door, the paint peeling, a strange odour eminating from the slit underneath the door. I turned to Jett again, and he just nodded with a bemused look on his face. "Again, fuck. You."

"Love you too, babe," he chuckled, and I felt a strange sensation in the pit of my stomach. I dismissed the feeling as anger, and knocked on the door. I heard a click, and the door opened the slightest crack, revealing a rapidly aging man with a jagged scar running from his wrinkled forehead to his upper lip. His eyes were two mere slits, with blakc, dilated pupils and his mouth was cracked and split.

"What do you want, bitch," he huffed, and I feigned hurt.

"Is that a way to treat a customer?" I asked, my hand against my chest. His eyes, already narrowed, looked me up and down. "Don't believe me?" I reached for the drug packet I had in my pocket, and showed it to him. "It's the last in my stash, so I came to get more."

"Fine. Come in," the man growled, the door swining open with a rough creak. The inside was humid and moist, the only furniture being the wooden desk, practically fallen apart, in the centre and a shelf packed with white packets similar to the one Jett gave to me. "How much do you want? If you get 5 packets I could give you a discount."

"Five packets, then, I guess," I said, glancing at the door nervously. My feet felt numb, and my hands were sweaty and clammy. The guy handed my five packets, and then put out his hand for the payment. Ah, shit. I reached into my satchel for money, but instead of cash my hand wrapped around my Epipen (AN: A needle filled with adrenaline for people with severe allergies.). I clicked off the lid, hand still hidden by the satchel, and smiled at the guy. "Here you go."

"Thanky-" he started to say, before he realised that my hand, needle in hand, was coming towards his hideous face. My make-shift weapon collided with his massive head, and a strangled cry escaped his lips. I pulled the needle out from his cheek-where it had embedded itself- and ran, the drugs clutched desperately in my hand.

"Sh-shit... shit... fuck..." I cursed, as I looked around the alleyway for Jett. "J-Jett! Where are you, you son of a bitch?!" I frantically looked around, no Jett in sight. He wouldn't have left, would he? I ran towards the opening of the alleyway, where I could hear cars and people chatting. It was only 9:15 in the morning.

"JETT!" I yelled, and ran into something hard and moving.

"Whoa, you okay there babe?" a familiar male voice asked, humour in the low and husky voice. "So, you chicken out or something?"

"F-fuck you!" I stammered, grabbing onto his arm, pulling him along, occasionally glancing back at the alleyway in case the drug dealer was coming. "Fuck! I think I just killed the guy! Shit!" I spotted a park in the distance, and dragged Jett at a frantic pace toward it, ignoring his angry protests.

When we were inside, I shoved the five packets of coke against his chest with force, and his eyes widened. "There! Happy now? I got you your shit, so now you have to help me."

"You actually..." he murmured incredulously, looking at the drugs in his hands. "I didn't think you'd be able to do it."

"Well, you thought wrong, you mother fucker. That guy is probably out to get me now! I mean, I practically stabbed him!" I ranted, smacking Jett's chest with every word. "So take responsability and go out with me!"

"Okay, okay. Fine. Whatever," Jett sighed, and I stopped whacking him.

"Wait, really?" I asked, blinking stupidly.

"How can I say no after you knocked out a drug dealer for me?" he said quickly, stuffing the drugs in his pocket, leaving one out. "And take this." I took the packet from him, my fingers brushing his. His hand was warm- hot, even. I stuffed the drugs in my satchel, and Jett grabbed my hand.

"Hey! What are you-" I yelled, and he smirked.

"We're dating now, aren't we? Or are we not allowed to hold hands?"

"Okay, screw you. This isn't really dating. It's only..." I started, and then stopped myself. What is it, really? Is it because I like him? No, that's definitely not why we're dating. Is it because I want to get back at mum? Partly... but there's something else. Maybe it's because I just want some male companionship. Yeah, probably. I mean, Jett is the first guy, before dad, who I have actually talked to.

"It's only what?" Jett pushes, his eyes locking onto mine.

"It's just a deal," I told him, and something in his eyes flashed. "It's just a deal I made with you. A deal for me to get back at the world."

And the rebellion of Cora Hart started with the deal she made with the devil.