Sequel: Through Fire ›
From the Ashes
Speed
After Mrs. Farthing ends the meeting and releases us, Kaitlin tells me to meet her at her car before chatting and exchanging numbers with her partner on her way out of the room. I release a heavy sigh out of my nose as I note this is probably the first time I’m following Kait’s example as I purse my lips and wait next to the door for Roman as other kids file out of the room. I know little about him personally, but I had heard some rumors from people other than my good friend, the gossip queen.
Trying not to tap my foot, I wait as he is one of the last ones out, saying a goodbye to his blonde friend before acknowledging me.
“Hey, partner,” he says in a low voice, giving me a visual look-over before smirking. I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I beat back the annoyance and offer a stiff hand of greeting.
“You’re Roman?” I say simply, and beneath long unkempt hair, grey-green eyes gaze coolly down at my outstretched hand.
“And you’re Aleithea.” I cringe slightly when he pronounces my name wrong. Growing impatient as he just stares at my hand in amusement, he finally takes it and pumps it once lazily as I match his smirk with a frosty look.
“Uh-LAY-thee-uh.”
“Yeah, sorry. You go by Allie, though, right?” I nod as we make our way out into the hallway, and I pull out the list of supplies from the syllabus. Just as I open my mouth to address them, he speaks.
“What kind of name is that, anyway?”
“…It’s Greek. Anyway, I think we can get most of these supplies downtown.”
“Greek, huh.”
“Project. Grade. Pass.” I say as we round a corner. He gives a deep-chested chuckle as he ruffles my auburn hair.
“Chill. Honestly, I really don’t care to worry about it this weekend, alright? I’m beat.” He flashes me another cocky smirk as I shoot him a look and straighten out my messed up hair. I stop at my locker to shove the paper back into my purse, only the slightest bit pissed off as I start to turn the dial on my lock.
“Whatever you say, Princess. Project has to be done one way or the other, let me know when you’re ready to contribute.” I see him lean against the row of lockers from the corner of my eye. He’s watching me.
“You’re something else, Revora,” he murmurs with a chuckle as I root through my things, putting some books back and taking out others.
“How kind of you to say that. Though I’m not flirting with you,” my voice echoes in the locker as I wrestle my tangle of earphone wires and attached iPod from the bottom.
“I know,” he smirks from behind messy, dark hair. He is pretty hot, I’m not gonna lie. But the fact that he’s an asshole player completely cancels that out for me.
“See you next week, Speed, I’m getting out of here,” I mutter as I slam the locker and start walking towards the student parking lot.
“Spade.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
*****
“Club, club, club, club.” Kaitlin chants from the driver’s seat of her old, red Mustang as I walk across the lot towards her car.
“Finals, finals, finals, finals,” I mutter as I plop into the passenger’s seat. Kait revs the engine.
“Fun sucker, fun sucker, fun sucker, fun sucker,” she sings before the car’s stereo pumps the music we had been blasting on our way to school this morning. Slumping low in the seat, I drag my hands over my face as she turns the music down and continues to persuade me to go to the teen club tonight with her and her brother. The club is really popular with our town, and all the others surrounding it, since the bar is made only accessible to those of age, and the dance floor is open to kids 16 and up. It’s really fun, even though it’s easy for underage kids to get adults to buy them drinks.
Kait clicks through the tracks of the mix-CD, settling on some dance music. She dances comically as she drives, looking over at me deliberately to press her suggestion. I chuckle at her as I reach for the volume dial.
“Alright. You win.” I crank up the tunes.
Trying not to tap my foot, I wait as he is one of the last ones out, saying a goodbye to his blonde friend before acknowledging me.
“Hey, partner,” he says in a low voice, giving me a visual look-over before smirking. I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I beat back the annoyance and offer a stiff hand of greeting.
“You’re Roman?” I say simply, and beneath long unkempt hair, grey-green eyes gaze coolly down at my outstretched hand.
“And you’re Aleithea.” I cringe slightly when he pronounces my name wrong. Growing impatient as he just stares at my hand in amusement, he finally takes it and pumps it once lazily as I match his smirk with a frosty look.
“Uh-LAY-thee-uh.”
“Yeah, sorry. You go by Allie, though, right?” I nod as we make our way out into the hallway, and I pull out the list of supplies from the syllabus. Just as I open my mouth to address them, he speaks.
“What kind of name is that, anyway?”
“…It’s Greek. Anyway, I think we can get most of these supplies downtown.”
“Greek, huh.”
“Project. Grade. Pass.” I say as we round a corner. He gives a deep-chested chuckle as he ruffles my auburn hair.
“Chill. Honestly, I really don’t care to worry about it this weekend, alright? I’m beat.” He flashes me another cocky smirk as I shoot him a look and straighten out my messed up hair. I stop at my locker to shove the paper back into my purse, only the slightest bit pissed off as I start to turn the dial on my lock.
“Whatever you say, Princess. Project has to be done one way or the other, let me know when you’re ready to contribute.” I see him lean against the row of lockers from the corner of my eye. He’s watching me.
“You’re something else, Revora,” he murmurs with a chuckle as I root through my things, putting some books back and taking out others.
“How kind of you to say that. Though I’m not flirting with you,” my voice echoes in the locker as I wrestle my tangle of earphone wires and attached iPod from the bottom.
“I know,” he smirks from behind messy, dark hair. He is pretty hot, I’m not gonna lie. But the fact that he’s an asshole player completely cancels that out for me.
“See you next week, Speed, I’m getting out of here,” I mutter as I slam the locker and start walking towards the student parking lot.
“Spade.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
*****
“Club, club, club, club.” Kaitlin chants from the driver’s seat of her old, red Mustang as I walk across the lot towards her car.
“Finals, finals, finals, finals,” I mutter as I plop into the passenger’s seat. Kait revs the engine.
“Fun sucker, fun sucker, fun sucker, fun sucker,” she sings before the car’s stereo pumps the music we had been blasting on our way to school this morning. Slumping low in the seat, I drag my hands over my face as she turns the music down and continues to persuade me to go to the teen club tonight with her and her brother. The club is really popular with our town, and all the others surrounding it, since the bar is made only accessible to those of age, and the dance floor is open to kids 16 and up. It’s really fun, even though it’s easy for underage kids to get adults to buy them drinks.
Kait clicks through the tracks of the mix-CD, settling on some dance music. She dances comically as she drives, looking over at me deliberately to press her suggestion. I chuckle at her as I reach for the volume dial.
“Alright. You win.” I crank up the tunes.