He is a force to be reckoned with. A lift of his finger & people are beheaded in seconds. A word from him & the streets of NY are bathed in blood. Any evil deed, you name it & he has done it. Vicious, nefarious, brutal & downright cruel. Majestic in...
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Anastasia's POV~
Head perched on the palm of my left hand, I jot down the important parts from the lecture.
Among all the others Aerodynamics tops the list of my favourite subjects. Which is what I am attending now.
Mr. Miller's voice booms through the hall. "This is it for today, gentlemen. I want the assignment done and on my table on Monday. It will bear twenty marks. So try to give your best."
Gathering his belongings from the desk, he leaves the room. Our gazes meet and he gives me a nod, getting a smile from me in return.
Stuffing my notebook and macbook in the compartment of my backpack, I get up to go to my next class. Which is Fluid Mechanics, my least favourite one.
Crossing the buzzing hallway, a male voice and sound of footsteps halt me. Turning around, I see Shawn running towards me.
Stopping before me, he smiles, adjusting the strap of his bag. "Hey Anastasia."
"Hi." I say, looking at him weirdly.
There are two reasons behind it. First being, he is the typical bad boy of our batch. Handsome, cocky and a jerk. Girls fawn over him, making his ego huger. He never talks to anyone except the boys of his gang who are as vile as him.
And the second reason is, we have never talked before. He is bad news and I try to stay away from such people.
So, him coming to me is simply weird.
"I need your help." He says.
"With?" I enquire.
"The assignment old man just gave us." He smirks.
"You mean, Professor Miller?" I narrow my eyes, not liking the way he talks about our teachers.
"Yepp." He says popping the 'p'.
"What help?" I ask irritatedly.
"See, the way he teaches completely goes over my head, including half of the class. He never goes over a point twice and is super strict. No one gets over ten in his assignments but you. You are his favourite student." He leans against the wall, one hand in his jean's pocket.
"Where are you going with this?" I fold my arms against my chest, squinting my eyes at him.
"I want you..." He says making my brows furrow. "...to assist me with his assignment." He completes.
"Why can you not take someone else's help?"
"Because no one is better than you." He says, smirking.
"Then take that 'old man's' help." I say mocking his previous comment, supporting my body weight against the wall.
He chuckles a little, shaking his head. "That old man...I mean Mr. Miller hates everyone's guts except you. He only talks to you. So you are my last choice."
