Kara Cammilla Meeting him was a mistake. A beautiful mistake. The sharp curve of his jaw his neck the shape of his mouth his mouth the long lines of his arms his mouth He had lion eyes, long-lidded and piercing—the kind that could make your heart race if he glanced at you even for just one second. Or slash it and make it bleed if he dismissed you. I thought those sharp blue eyes were uncaring, somehow detached from everything around him. But they looked sad somehow. And that sadness made me want to look longer, made my greedy heart want. I want to know why he's sad. I want him to want to tell me. I want to be beautiful enough to be with him. And that last part woke me up from my daydreaming, like scalding water splashed on my hand. I saw his friend sneak up from behind him and pull his pants down. As soon as he turned away from me, I put my hoodie on, face burning, and ran the opposite direction. What the hell. Beautiful enough to be with him? I'd be damned if I let the same insecurities I had when I was a kid plague me again. Beautiful faces didn't affect me. Well... they do to be honest. But not like this. Not make me wish to be someone else. Not again. So what was it about him? I decided I didn't like him. In fact, I hope I never see him again. I had no business thinking about a boy who wouldn't pay attention to me anyway, and that I normally wouldn't pay attention to. I was sure I didn't even bleep his radar. The girl in the hallway gave me a wide berth, throwing a nervous glance my way before turning the corner. I rolled my eyes. I was having a moment here. There must have been something in that lasagna. The instant I thought of it, my stomach began to cramp. Oh shit. Something was trying to bubble out of me. And from the unearthly sounds my stomach was making, I knew I was going to suffer. I knew it. I fucking knew it. And in my head, I knew I deserved it for being a greedy pig. The line-up to the washroom was past the door. It was five minutes before classes started, and everyone wanted to do their business last minute. Assholes. Everyone was an asshole. I would lock all the bathroom doors five minutes before the end of the world so no one can use them. Later, I'd laugh at the ridiculousness of that. But it wasn't later yet, and I was dead serious about it. There was no other choice. I had to go to the third-floor bathroom. Correction, the third-floor fuck bathroom. Students nicknamed it that because it was where couples go to... well, fuck. You had to climb three flights of stairs to get there and walk a whole floor since it was located at the end of the corridor. No one in their right mind who needed to take a piss would take a long hike to get to that toilet. No one, but me. "Oh fuck." A cramp so sharp I felt it in my soul. I grabbed the railing on the stairs, breathing so loudly as I rested my clammy forehead on my arms. "You can make it. Steel, baby. You are made of steel." I pushed away from the railing, tightened my butt muscles, and ran. I could hear my heavy footsteps echoing through the walls of the stairway, felt the cold sweat trickling down the side of my face. I was wheezing by the time I grabbed for the door, almost sliding to the floor against my rush to get my butt to the toilet. I slammed open the first stall I could reach and let go. Have you ever had to hold the sides of your bathroom counter while you close your eyes tightly and you moan like a pig and you push out with all your might but only air comes out? Yes, it was that kind. I was in the middle of doing this when I heard the bathroom door open and then moaning and rustling of clothes. It sounded like someone was going to get down and dirty, literally, on the bathroom floor. "You feel so good, Cam," I heard a very sultry feminine voice purr. Prrrrrrrrrrtttttttttt! That was me passing gas. Blowing wind. Farting. Like a choo-choo train on Christmas. Silence. Then I heard more rustling like they were putting their clothes back on and then the door opening and closing. Thank fuck they left. I finished my business quickly, sprayed some perfume in the bathroom so the next poor soul wouldn't have to deal with my stink. I washed my hands in the sink thoroughly, reapplied my lipstick, opened the door into the hallway and froze in my tracks. There he was with his piercing blue eyes and Lucifer black hair. He was leaning against the wall across the bathroom, hot as hell and twice as dangerous. His arms were crossed in front of him, a lollipop in his mouth. His eyes widened when he saw me. We just stood there for what seemed like forever, staring at each other. Then... he grinned.