The Prince's Beloved

~Chapter Two~

---New Kid---

(Gemma's Point of View)

“Can anyone tell me who Napoleon Bonaparte is?” Mr. Wilson, my history teacher, asked.

“Hey, isn’t he that really short guy?” Jordan shouted from the back row causing the class to chuckle.

Mr. Wilson sighed. “Honestly Jordan, I’m not surprised that’s the only thing you know about him…and even that’s wrong. He wasn’t actually sho-“ His soon to be rant gets cut off by a knock on the door.

I began to doodle in my notebook as the teacher talked to someone on the other side of the door. You see, I’m in history class and I have no one to really talk to in here, except for the occasional i***t seated behind me.

“Hey Gemma.” Speak of the i***t and he shall appear, I rolled my eyes.

“Yes Jordan?” I turned in my seat to face him with a quiet exasperated sigh.

“Wanna go out with me.” He smirked and said it like it was a statement and not a question. At least he was confident.

“Awww, you want to go out on a date with me?” I watched his smirk grow and hope began to shine in his eyes, before I crushed it. “Nah, I’ll pass.”

“Wha-how come?” His bottom lip jutted out in a tiny pout that I'm sure he thought was the cutest thing. Honestly, I would have thought it was cute if it were anyone else.

“Um first off, you only talk to me when you want to ask me out, and you were making out with Trina this morning in the hallway.”

“Touché.” His smirk came full-fledged and was followed by a wink, and he went back to doing whatever he was doing before he decided to bother me.

“Class, please direct your attention to the front please.” I looked up and noticed Mr. Wilson standing at the front of the room with a boy around my age standing beside him.

I have never seen the guy before, and trust me, I’d remember if I had. He was tall, like maybe a little over six foot. He wore an olive green shirt that stretched across his torso, casual dark blue jeans, and average black converse. Any new student trying to blend in would wear the same thing, but his sharp features and obvious muscles made him stick out in a crowd. Dark brown, almost black, hair fell messily over his forehead over matching brown eyes. Eyes that were currently roaming the room frantically, his nostrils flared slightly as if he smelled something delicious, before they landed on me.

“Class, we have a new student. Would you like to say a few words about yourself?” Mr. Wilson asked him.

His eyes never strayed from me while Mr. Wilson spoke to him, and he continued to focus on me as he smirked and introduced himself. “Well, my name is Seamus Reegan. I just started school here…obviously, so I guess you could say I’m the new kid.”

Something about the way he seemed to look at me had a shiver running down my spine. I just couldn’t figure out if it was a good or bad thing.