In Love With The Bad Boy

The loud school bell echoed through the hallway as students rushed to their classes. Some laughed loudly, others gossiped in small groups, while a few hurried with books clutched tightly to their chests. Amara Collins adjusted her glasses nervously and walked faster. “Move! Move!” someone shouted behind her. Before she could turn, a student slammed into her shoulder. Her books scattered across the floor. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” the girl said before rushing away without helping. Amara sighed quietly and knelt down to pick her books. Then suddenly… A black boot stepped on one of them. The hallway instantly became silent. Completely silent. Amara slowly looked up. Her breath caught in her throat. Jason Blackwood. The most feared boy in Crest Hill High. Tall. Cold. Dangerous. His dark eyes stared down at her without emotion while his hands rested inside the pockets of his black hoodie. Whispers immediately filled the hallway. “That’s Jason…” “She’s dead.” “He hates people touching him.” Amara quickly grabbed her book from under his shoe. “I-I’m sorry,” she whispered softly. Jason said nothing. He simply stared at her for a few seconds before walking away with his group of friends following behind him. The moment he disappeared, the hallway became noisy again. “Oh my gosh, Amara, are you okay?” her best friend Chloe rushed toward her. Amara nodded slowly, still shaken. “There’s something seriously wrong with that guy,” Chloe muttered. Everyone knew Jason Blackwood. He skipped classes. Got into fights. Never smiled. And rumor had it his family was involved in dangerous things nobody dared talk about. Girls liked him. Teachers feared him. Boys avoided him. Amara wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Unfortunately… Fate had other plans. ••• Later that afternoon, rain poured heavily outside the school building. Amara stood near the gate holding her bag tightly. Great. No umbrella. Just as she prepared to run through the rain, a black motorcycle stopped in front of her. Her heart skipped. Jason removed his helmet slowly. “Get on,” he said coldly. Amara blinked in shock. “What?” “I’m not repeating myself.” “I-I don’t even know you.” A dangerous smirk appeared on his face. “But I know you, Amara Collins.” Her blood ran cold. How did he know her name? And why did it suddenly feel like meeting Jason Blackwood was the beginning of something she would never escape?