Clara Carter

All I see is dark and red. The locker's thin metal and the dickhead's back slammed loudly, earning me woah, damn, and plenty of other reactions from the crowd that had gathered around us.

No one dares to shoot the scene happening after I broke two phones.

As he tries to remove my hand from his body, I drag the guy with his collar T-shirt. The blood from his nose is flowing down his fingers and now is onto my wrists.

"Clara, for God's sake, please stop!" Ray's screaming at me from afar doesn't stop my knuckles from bashing into his guts with barbaric force. He growls in my face. A prickle of water runs from his crimson eye as he takes a step back to hold his stomach. My repeated punches damaged his outstanding work on his face.

"Now let me hear you say that again?" With clenched teeth, I grunt, yet my tone is strangely and dangerously low. I make him glance at me by shaking him. My breathing speeds up with a temper.

I saw him here just a few minutes ago, convincing and inappropriately touching Ray in the locker room. This jerk had the audacity to call Ray a slut for refusing to date him after his fake promises about how much he loves her and bullshit.

When I see boys attempting to manipulate girls for their own benefit, my blood boils with feminine instincts. I understand what it's like to be that girl. I was that girl in high school who was mocked by the bullies for being a nerd, wearing glasses, and dressing like a kid. Disgusting things have been spoken about me. I have heard disgusting things said about me — behind my back, on my face.

Tyler was, at the time, like a savior and an angel in my life. He was continuously trying to make me feel better. However, it did not always work. When Ray arrived to meet one of her classmates from our school, I ran into her. That's how Ray and I met for the first time. She was the queen bee of her school, and there was no doubt that the boys were constantly after her.

We got along seamlessly and were instant friends. She shaped me into the confident, fearless woman I am today. She taught me how to be strong in the face of difficult situations. And, of course, she groomed me to look the way I do now. Smart, self-assured, charming, and bold.

We all enrolled in this university not long after that. I wasn't the bullied, naïve girl anymore. I slapped a boy who misbehaved with me on the first day on this campus.

My family is still in the dark about it all. It wasn't meant to be a concern of theirs. They were taken aback when I changed my image and began receiving complaints from professors.

The sound of the scumbag's wailing drags me back to reality. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. I smash my fist into his jaw with ferocity. He whimpers as he falls to the ground. In a woo sound, the audience becomes silent.

The motherfucker begins to stand up again, refusing to apologize or give up.

Anger continues to find its way out of me. My fist itching to strike him once again.

I take one step closer to him when I am abruptly picked up off the ground. Someone encircles my waist with their arms.

The crowd sags their shoulders, figuring the show is over. I kick my legs in the air numerous times in an attempt to release myself, which causes the person to slow down.

The powerful arms that wrap themselves around me tighten. Ray's face has a relief smile on it as I try my hardest to free myself. Who the fuck had the nerve to try to stop me?

I can recognize the familiar scent coming from the familiar person. With my heel, I kick him in the knees. I'm standing on my feet the next second.

My gaze locks with Stefan and the fierce gleam of my eyes, mind, and body held waves off. His incredibly well-built figure stands in front of me. He arches his eyebrows.

What is he doing here?

"Oh, my goodness! Are you okay, dear?" Ms. Ovando comes, her boots and dangling earrings audibly announcing her presence.

I roll my eyes and turn to face her, bracing myself for the impending nonsense. Her efforts to get him to stand are useless as he's on the verge of passing out.

"What happened? Who did this?" she enquires. She is oblivious to the fact that it is me who has created this mess. Maybe it's because of Stefan that I'm standing so far away from that guy.

Stefan's smirk gets my attention as I look over my shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. Thank you for your unwanted service." I say to him in a hushed voice.

The bruised guy searches the crowd for me, blinking several times to obtain a clear view. I give him a hard look and challenge him to take my name once he spots me. If Stefan hadn't been in the picture, I swear I would have forced him to apologize to all of the women he has ever mistreated.

He thinks for a moment before opening his mouth. "I was just walking towards my locker when I tripped and hit my nose on the floor," he explains, sniffling and trying with the back of his hand to stop the blood from gushing from his nose.

I check my wrist for bloodstains. To keep anyone's eyes from falling to there, I fold my hands across my chest.

Kate scans the students when she refuses to trust his story. Some of the students have their heads bowed in my way, although I'm proudly standing there with a good distance between my legs and my hands folded. As if nothing had happened, I press my lips together in a thin line.

She catches me staring at her and walks towards me, tapping her heels to highlight her frightening, sharp boots. She is going to yell as she aims her index finger at me but then. . .

"It wasn't her."

Everyone's gaze was diverted to Stefan, including mine. He's supposed to take my name and carry out his supposedly assigned duties as a head boy.

Kate smiles as she notices Stefan lurking behind me. "Stefan, right?  I've heard good things about you from other professors." She speaks in a quiet, calm tone, and her gaze is hooked to him.

"I'm glad you got here in time," she says softly, her hand stroking over Stefan's shoulder and her fake lashes blinking at him.

I'm not sure why, but I want to rip her blonde hair off her pathetic head.

Stefan grabs my wrist and gives her a quick nod, completely uninterested. He commands, "Come with me."

I'm dragged away from the mob before I realize it. I try to keep up with him. As I want to get away from the suffocating mood that has developed among the crowd, I follow him.

Under his black T-shirt, I watch his shoulders flex. We make our way to the end of the corridor and into one of the empty classrooms. He shoves me in and shuts the door behind me. I stumble a few steps forward but soon regain my balance.

He hisses, "What the hell was that?" His throat working on a swallow. His dark eyes possessed by catastrophic hurt in them.  

I know why he brought me here — to talk some discipline in me.

"What was what?" I shrug carelessly as I act dumb.

He leans against the door, his hand running through his hair. He studies me with a slight tilt of his head.

"You could've been suspended," he says, his voice lowered to a worried tone. He surrounds his chest with his arms clasped.

"Why do you even care?" Even though the question is correct, it does not feel good to be asked. Why does it matter to him if I'm about to get suspended?

When he looks me up and down, shifting his gaze slowly, almost seductively, his eyes reveal the gentle, light spark in his movements. My consciousness strikes a sense in me at an instant.

"Up here, Mister," I call him out, pointing two fingers at my eyes.

He loses his cool as a result of this. He takes a few steps back and looks around before speaking again. "What was the point of that fight?"

Even when he isn't looking at me, I smirk at him. "He called my friend a slut."

I forget about my wrath and smile at Stefan's newfound allure as he bursts into a smiling mess in such a beautiful and childlike way.

"Good job," he says, "I'm proud of you for beating that bastard then."

My stomach twists in flutters.

"Me too." I say truthfully. I'm so proud of myself for putting that jerk in his place.

When I discover that Stefan's been staring at me without blinking for the past 30 seconds, my hands scratch the back of my head.

I'm so engrossed in this new solicitude I'm getting from him that I don't even notice it's becoming dark outside. "I think we should leave." I say this as I begin to walk towards him.

"Should we?"

I bite my lower lip, the incident from just a few minutes before already faded from my mind. "Our friends must be searching for us." I reason.

"I only have one friend here," he says unexpectedly. How can a person as lovely and intelligent as him have only one friend?

"Well, that's sad," I say, avoiding and mentally smacking myself for thinking to say, 'I can be your friend'. Wouldn't that be like a friendzone for us?

"It's not."

His voice has an edge to it that never fails to get my attention. However, I do not allow it to show on my face. "So maybe my friends and your friend must be looking for us." I correct my previous statement.

"If you say so," he comes near me and pulls me into a hug. A tight hug. "Let's go." I drape my arms around his waist and notice him relaxing as well.

"Are you coming to the party tomorrow?" He places his lips on the top of my head and murmurs.

"Maybe." I'm definitely going to the party. But I want Stefan to think about me and wait for me to show up in one of Ray's chosen sexy outfit for me

It's Samuel's party. Every year, he throws a party like this in a nightclub. After a few months since that ugly fight, the air between me and Samuel has cooled down. Between him and I, it's like 'we're good but not besties.' But his parties are always spectacular; everyone enjoys watching someone lose their shit and embarrass themselves the next day.

This time, I'm sure I'll love it more than anyone else since Stefan will also be present.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."