I Yearn for You, My Alexandria

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ck. One moment, Alexandria Harmon was lost in thought, the rhythmic click of her bicycle chain a met

linding, terrifying wall of polish

under her. The pavement rushed up to meet her, scraping the skin from her palms and knees through he

where she lay. The engine rumbled, not with apology, but with a low, pr

't look concerned. He looked annoyed. He sauntered around the front of the car, his mirrored aviator su

at matched the Camaro's engine. "Look what the cat almost

strand of dark hair from her face, her eyes blazing with a fury that could have powered all

et, tapped one out, and lit it with a flick of a Zippo. "And you, little miss student body president, were in my

her feet and righting her bicycle. The handle

es are too good. You should be thanking me." His eyes, now visible as he pushed his sunglasses

considerably shorter than him. She was used to commanding rooms, to debating with teachers, to organiz

she said, her voice cold and steady, the one she

Gonna give me detention?" He took a step closer, the scent of tobacco and cheap cologne mixing unpleasantly. "

en the twisted handlebar with one sharp, forceful

per. "Good as new. Consider it my civic duty. Now, run

ing back into the Camaro. The engine roared once, a deliberate, aggressive sound, before

. It wasn't just the scare. It was the utter powerlessness. He was a force

th every movement. Chris Hunter thought this was over. He

ew item topped her mental to-do list. It was simp

o make Chris

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, and the weekend's sweet promise. But today, the current didn't flow toward the buses or the p

ugh the crowd, followed by nervous

obscured by slimy, dripping yellow yolk. Shattered shells clung to the windows and doors, their translucent innard

lly wore was gone, replaced by a terrifying stillness. His jaw was a hard line, a muscle twitching near his temple. He

he m

torm. He walked right up to the driver's side window, ignoring the slime, and used his thumb to w

anned the faces around him. They landed, wi

hest. She wasn't smiling, wasn't gloating. She met his gaze with a calm, level stare

e him. He stopped a few feet away, the scent of egg an

id, his voice d

"Hunter. Having car trou

dropping to a growl meant only fo

, echoing his words from the day before. "Things

o close she could see the flecks of gold in his icy irises. "You're gon

ut it carried. "You'll run me over? I think that wo

he student body president in front of half the school would only

bitch," he hissed, the

er grip on her textbook. "That's a detention-wo

chless. She was using his own weapon-his disregard for the rules-against him

grabbed a rag from his trunk, and began furiously, futilely, wiping at the egg. The crowd, sensing the show

alked toward her bicycle. The twisted handlebar he had "fixed

ame was on, and for the first time since he'd almost ru