"Careful where you walk," he says. I look up and of course it's just my luck to have Coat Leader, aka Owen Rhodes holding me. "Why don't you careful where you walk!" I shoot back and then realize my sentence structure is all wrong, so I say: "I- I mean, why don't you be careful where you walk... Why don't- You should be careful!" I'm such a mess right now. Owen lets out a breathy chuckle and I damn the gods for giving him a perfectly minty breath. "You have quite the little mouth on you, Goldy," he says with a smirk that would send any normal girl melting. "And you, have quite the ego on you," I fire back. I'm getting angrier. The more I think about it, the more it could've been a gang that killed my parents. "Girls either run from me or try to kiss me, what the hell are you, Goldy?" he laughs. "Firstly, I'm a basic human being. Secondly, my name's not Goldy," I point out. "Then what is your name?" he whispers and leans in even more. A lock of his copper brown hair falls out of place and is practically tickling my nose. Would I be in even deeper shit if I sneeze on the gang leader? The little amount of space between us suddenly feels even less and his protective hold turns into a possessive kind of one. One of his goons, a brunet guy with a scowl, comes up and says to Owen: "We have business in Park street". I take it as my chance to escape. "Excuse me, but I have to go," I say and because this guy is way taller than me, I only have to duck and shoot for my next class to be out of his clutches. Before Owen even knows what has just happened, I'm gone and in my English class. I've always loved English and based on the longing gazes of the girls in the class, they love it as well. The teacher, who I assume by his name plate is Mr Wessils, sends me a pointed look when I enter the class a bit late. But then his pointed look turns into something I can't exactly recognize. There's a few awkward seconds where Mr Wessils solidly stares at me, not an admiring kind of stare, but rather something more. He fortunately returns to his senses. "Well, you must be Miss Marigold?" Mr Wessils says\asks. "Yup, sorry that I'm late, Sir. I couldn't find my way," I lie because how do you explain Owen Rhodes? "Very well, Miss Marigold, please take a seat here at the front of the class," he says and sends another girl to the back. I take my seat and some of the girls here are actually glaring at me. Wow, if looks could kill. But then I figure it out. Mr Wessils is as you'd put it: hot. He's the kind of guy that could've been a model, but decided he'd spend his life teaching. He has wavy, almost curly hazel hair and a dimple in the corner of his mouth whenever he even slightly smiles. "So, as I was saying, we're going to be discussing The Great Gatsby for this semester," Mr Wessils continues. "Any of you care to tell me what The Great Gatsby is about?" he asks. Nearly every girl shoots up her hand, but I can already tell they're going to be wrong. It's not the dyed hair or acrylic nails that tells me that. One does not read with hair and nails. It's the fact that they're all staring at where Mr Wessils' abs ought to be. A glazed look cover their eyes. Mr Wessils seems to be well aware of the girl's lack of reading skills and obsession with his abs, so instead, he turns to me. "Miss Marigold, you look like someone who can give me an inkling of an answer," he says through a dazzling smile. Half the girls basically faint. "Well, " I start, "The Great Gatsby is about the complicated love between a man and a woman, more specifically Gatsby and Daisy. The main theme of the novel, however, is at a much larger and less romantic scope. "One of those themes is the hollowness of the upper class. In The Great Gatsby, the sociology of wealth is explored. More specifically, how the newly minted millionaires differ from and relate to the old aristocracy of the country's richest families. In the novel, West Egg represents the newly rich, while East Egg, represent the old aristocracy," I explain. I only know this because we discussed The Great Gatsby in my previous school. All heads turn to me and I wish the earth can just swallow me whole because I'm such a bookworm right now. Hashtag fighting the dumb blonde cliche, I want to tell them. Mr Wessils is honestly impressed and is about to congratulate me or something, but the door suddenly swings open and in comes bad news. Leather Leader, aka Blake Bowmen. I expect Mr Wessils to scold Blake or at least to tell him to be early next time, but instead Mr Wessils goes very quiet and very still. The whole class does. Everyone is either looking down or shutting their eyes, so to see me openly staring must be quite a surprise. Instead of shooting me or glaring at me, Blake conjures his cruel grin. He swaggers over to me and the girl that sits next to me, quickly dives for another seat as Blake goes ahead and sits next to me. "That," I say, "can't possibly abide to any of the school rules." The whole class seems to hold their breath. "Darling, I don't abide to any rules," Blake replies. "My name is not Darling," I growl. I've had quite enough of these two guys and their little names for me. "Then what is your name, Darling?" "I think I'd like to go on with the class, thank you," I say. Mr Wessils does nothing except stare. Maybe even glare... "I think you and I need to go for a drive," Blake says through a smirk that says he knows what he's doing. He has me cornered. "Uhm, let me think about that. I'll let you know after I'm dead," I reply. "It wasn't a choice, Darling," he says and grabs my arm. "What the-" Blake basically drags me out of class and I send a pleading look to Mr Wessils, "You can't let him do this!" I protest, but Mr Wessils only lowers his gaze and I helplessly get dragged out of class. What the hell is going on?! How can they let this happen!? This isn't legal! When Blake has me out of the class, he spins me around and has me pinned against a locker. "I told you I can find other ways to shut you up," he purrs. Something tells me I'm in more trouble than I'd like to admit.