Good Girl Gone Bad.

The beep of her phone startled her, abruptly halting the pens advent of the idle doodling on the last page of her notebook. She took the cellphone out of her bag.

'1 new message’

"Free at 8?"

She ran her fingers through her thick black hair, turning slightly to her left. She saw him sitting at the far end of the class, turned towards her, watching her nonchalantly, casually flicking his phone in his hand. She turned back ahead as the professor droned on in his ultra-bored voice about the assignment to be handed in the next day. She slowly stashed her books into her bag, and started to walk out with the rest of the crowd, with the bag riding low on her waist.

She felt another beep as her cell vibrated in her back pocket. She turned back to him and gave a curt nod. She turned back ahead, but not before she saw her twine her fingers through his. Her lips curled into something between a sneer and a crooked smile and she walked out of the class with her heels tapping loudly, sure that he was watching her.

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He sat impatiently in his car, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, checking the rear view mirror every other second. She finally appeared, at the back end of the road, walking in a slow rhythmic grace towards him. Her worn out, faded jeans clung to those long shapely legs, almost making him sigh. Her eyes, outlined with black kohl, flashed with the dangerous light like always, guarded and cautious, like a feline just about to attack.

“Waiting for me honey?” she drawled in that deep husky voice, as she slid easily into the seat beside him. He gave her two seconds to close the door behind her, before he was claiming her lips with the urgency that was threatening to dangerously spin out of control.

He felt her hands pushing him back, softly but with an undeniable strength beneath them. He leaned back, took a deep breath and cleared his mind of his thoughts, and took off with squealing tires that left a cloud of dust in its wake.

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The night had turned colder, and they lay on the back seat of the car, sharing a sheet between the two of them. She shifted slightly snuggling deeper under the sheet, pulling the strap of her bra back over her shoulder. He sat leaned against the window, frosted with the vapor, running his fingers through his hair now damp with the sweat. Suddenly striking like a naughty kitten, she nudged him on the chest with her foot under the blanket. He looked up at her, smiling the crooked smile, watching as she gave him the almost drowsy half-smile, mysterious stare, that he could never decipher, but which never failed to arouse him. He made to move towards her, his hands sliding up her thighs, and she moved to take him over her, reaching for his shoulder when the shrill sound of his cell phone broke loudly into the nights silence.

She sat up abruptly, her eyes turning back to chips of black hard stone, the smile gone from her face. He rolled his eyes and he didn’t need to check his phone before he said in clipping tones, “It’s her.”

It was the signal for her to remain quiet. In the silence of the night, she heard every word from the phone like she was right there on the back seat of the car.

“Sweetheart, where are you? I have been waiting for your call for the entire evening!”

He said in a bored sounding flat monotone, “I was busy baby, remember we have that networks assignment to hand in tomorrow?”

He pulled her in his arms, balancing the phone between his shoulder and right ear, his fingers idly playing with her hair, damp too, slipping lower to the tattoo on her left hip. He tuned her out, as she went on about how many dresses she got from the million stores she went to that afternoon. And then he gasped as she suddenly got on top of him.

“What’s wrong honey? What happened?” came the voice from the phone, barely missing anything. But he hardly heard anything, because she was so close to him, cupping his face with both hands, he could almost hear her heartbeat, her hair tumbling all over her shoulder onto his chest.

“I’ll call you back later. I broke my toenail.” He flicked his cell closed and threw it somewhere in the front. She laughed then, a rich sound, throwing her hair over her shoulder and looking down at him grinning, “Broke your toenail? Seriously? ” He grabbed the hair at the back of her head and pulled her back closer, eliminating the last of the distance between them.

They didn’t complete the networks assignment after all.

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“Happy anniversary baby” she crooned, planting a big smack on his lips, right in front of the whole class. The girl’s aww-ed and the guys wolf-whistled. A cake had been called for to celebrate their 3 years of togetherness. He didn’t like the way it all was projected as some grand affair, he hated the crowds. He looked over the faces around him to the far end of class, watched her as she stood leaning back against the wall, the same old mysterious stare directed towards him.

He didn’t realize that someone else was watching her too.

“The punk chic’s got the hots for your guy. Look how she stares.” Her best friend whispered into her ears, she turned to look and it was true. There was pure animal hunger on that girls face. A possessive flash of jealousy made her walk purposefully towards him and turn him to face her. She kissed him lightly on the lips and pulling away to smile back at him. Slipping her hands down his arm, she nodded towards the cake, pulling him softly along with her.

She saw everything from across the class, her eyes an unfathomable black and her face an impassive mask. She turned and slowly walked away, certain that he was not watching her anymore.

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“You don’t deserve to live bitch.”

She was hunched over the sink in the washroom, and she straightened up with a flash, meeting crazed furious eyes in the mirror. She turned around, pure, bone-chilling fear gripping every fiber of her being. It was strange because she had never felt fear ever in her entire life, till this moment as she stared at the girl shaking with anger, her eyes saying that she was beyond any reason. She opened her mouth to scream but it was too late.

The terror was the last thing she ever felt, before the hammer came crashing into her face.

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“Did they find out who it was?”

“It was late. She was about to go out. No one saw who it was.”

“Could it be one of us?”

He heard nothing of it all, numb with the sight of closed coffin. They said her face was smashed so bad that they couldn’t even fix it up for her funeral. He still felt like it was all just a bad dream.

He felt a beep from his cell phone. He slowly took it out and flicked it open. He looked up across the cemetery and saw her standing below the willow at the end of the grounds. Even from that far he could see that half-smile and that mysterious stare.

‘1 new message’

“Free at 8?”

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~Annie.

P.S: *grin*