My Type of a Bad Boy

Three: MTOABB

?MTOABB?

"Have you been avoiding me?" Zack asks as I finally make a stop in front of my locker which he happens to be leaning against.

It seems like that has become a habit of his and no one is complaining -- especially not me. I wasn't sure why he started talking to me all of a sudden - I thought about all the possible reasons as to 'why now?' but not one arised, so I hold on to every word like it's the last.

"Me? I can't possibly be avoiding thee Zack Daniels," I gasp as I fold my arms in annoyance.

This is just perfect -- if he wants some sort of entertainment then I am the perfect girl for the show.

He watches my little tantrum till the very end.

"Are you done?" He asks through chuckles.

"Are we still talking?" I ask.

I seriously wanted to shut my mouth with duct tape or something -- Zack has been paying attention to me for a few days now and what do I do? -- I open my big mouth and am already growling like a baby lion to all the cubs after my meat.

Somebody needs to snap me out of it -- wait, hasn't everyone?

"Rose - is there something you want to say?" He asks.

"No, I just want to get my stuff in the locker. Some of us have classes to get to," I say, with a derisive smile.

"If I didn't have somewhere to be right now, I'd force you to tell me what's got you so worked up," he says, before leaning in.

"You got me worked up" is what I wanted to say but having him leaning in only gave me one idea -- my virgin lips is about to be no more.

I close my eyes as I await for my fate and you guessed it -- it didn't happen. He pecks me on the cheek and softly chuckles. "I'll see you around."

I watch as his feet drift away from me and I'm left alone in front of my cubbyhole.

?My Type Of A Bad Boy?

Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to go straight to Gomes's house when the last bell of the day rang.

I saunter towards my locker where I find Zack and Juliet locking lips and I retrace my steps. I wasn't about to relive this again.

I wasn't about to ask Chloe to drop me at Gomes's place so I only had one solution -- take the bus and that's exactly where I was heading.

Having gotten myself in front of his front door, I take the opportunity to stare around. A plain white three story house with beautiful red roses surrounding the interior.

If this does not spell spoiled dork boy, then I don't know what does.

I knock on the door a few times, but no reply. Already peeved at the chance of him leaving me to loiter in front of his beautiful house, I spot the doorbell. I allow my index finger to linger on the button for a second too long before taking a step away.

The door opens and I am welcomed to a...

Umm...

He stands there in sweatpants and without his horrendous glasses. I allow myself to stupidly stare into his beautiful blue ocean eyes.

Snap out it Rossita - where is this coming from?

"Am I early?" I ask.

"No, do come in. I'll just go and grab my glasses and I'll be right back." He says, opening the door wide enough to make room for me to enter.

I wanted to tell him to forget about the glasses, but instead I opted to just nod my head as he leaves me standing in the entrance hall, admiring the simplistic paintings scattered on the walls.

My mom could learn a thing or two about decorating if she visited Gomes's house.

"I can't stay long," I say.

"I understand. So, should we get to it then?" He asks, returning with his round glasses on.

"To what?" I say, staring at him in complete awe of how in shape he is.

"The assignment," he says, and I feel mortified to having been thinking of him in any other way than a dork.

This was all Zack's fault- locking lips with people while talking to me.

My heart was all over the place, but this project was sure to put my trance back to focus.

He ushers me to follow suit when I hear footsteps rushing down the stairs.

"Who do we have here?"

"No one," Gomes says as he doesn't bother to turn around.

Me? A no one? He has another thing coming if that's how he sees me.

I turn around to come face to face with a rather beautiful girl. Same piercing blue eyes as Gomes which compliments her electric blonde hair.

I try not to compare myself to her as I smile.

"It's Rossita," I say. "And you must be?" I ask skeptically.

"It's Cassandra, my little sister," Gomes says.

"I don't know who he is calling little, we are the same age," she says.

"Are you still wearing these glasses, even at home?" She asks, arching her eyebrow.

"Leave. We're busy," he says, straining his voice. "...please."

"Your act isn't fooling anyone," she says as she turns to leave. "Nice to meet you Rossita, hope to see you around."

"Sorry about her," he says with a small smile.

"She seems nice." I shrug.

"Just don't listen to anything she says," he says, and I arch an eyebrow.

"Want anything to drink before we head upstairs?" He asks, pointing in the direction of the kitchen.

"Upstairs? I'm not into you," I say abruptly.

"Umm... the assignment, Rossita, unless you want to stay downstairs - it's all fine with me," he says with hurt evident in his eyes.

This is the part where I hide.

How embarrassing -- this day hasn't gotten any better.

"A bottle of water is fine," I say, mastering an apologetic smile.

He grabs a bottle of water without uttering another word. We make our way towards his room before he stops to open it for me.

"After you." He gestures and my heart involuntarily melts.

I gaze through his room to be welcomed to bare plain white walls - not even a photo or two. His bed is situated close to the framed window overseeing the backyard. He has average sized couches with a plain glass table opposite his bed.

To put it straight- his house is plain -- his room is plain which makes Gomes very plain.