When Our Worlds Collide (Our Worlds #1)(2)

"You've got to be kidding me," I whisper to myself rubbing my fingers on my temples in frustration.

He hears me, but doesn't bother to remove his lips from hers to laugh. I can hear the convulsion of his laughter through their locked lips. His smirk grows with my irritation. So happy he finds this amusing. That makes one of us.

He turns to face me finally acknowledging that there are in fact other people in this world. The smile that appears on his face sends a chill up my spine. I've seen him before in the hallways, but never had the nerve to speak to him. I’ve heard the stories that follow him around. I’m not prepared to be this close to him. He is out of everyone's reach, completely on a different level than the rest of us.

To say the least, boys like him are untouchable.

Guys like him can't be bothered to give anyone who they deem beneath them the common courtesy that most human beings deserve. Instead of using their popularity for good, they laugh at those who aren't in their social circle. Most Dads’ would call them “Grade-A douchebags”.

Graham Black, one side of the duo in front of me, can get away with his behavior for obvious reasons. Look at him, like really take a good gander at him. Even as a freshman he has those type of masculine features you only see on underwear billboards rivaling the David Beckham’s of the world. A head full of sexed up brown hair paired with light brown eyes that make it easy to forget what you are doing standing in front of him in the first place. Not to leave out his strong jawline that ticks when he smiles. All of that is enough to make a girl fall apart.

I stupidly allow my eyes to check out his body that’s tucked into his baseball uniform. I may be an inexperienced virgin that embarrassingly hasn’t had her first kiss yet, but I know that he has a body worth doing a once over on. You have to admire him. It’s written in the rules in this town.

"Do you need to get by, sweetheart?" Graham finally speaks with a confidence that sounds just as condescending as it is endearing. I can see the amusement on his lips as he catches my blatant approval of him in his tight uniform.

The girl who’s lucky enough to be twisted around him like a pretzel looks over his shoulder at me. There’s a glare that could make the strongest willed girl duck away in fear. I recognize her, but don't know her…technically. She’s a senior on the cheerleading squad.

Their tangled limbs say more about Graham than her. He’s at the top of the tier at school, even as a freshman. Every girl wants a piece of him. It’s pathetic how they all follow him around just waiting for any scrap of attention he’s willing to throw their way.

You wouldn’t complain if it was you.

That’s beside the point.

"If you don't mind moving this to another doorway that would be great," I answer feeling immediately self-conscious by the way he’s leering down at me as if he knows something I don’t. Waiting for a response is my only option. I watch him just as intently, almost challenging him as I pull on the hem of my tank top. I’m either extremely brave or utterly stupid.

"You know what, Marissa? I think we're done here." Graham unhooks her arms from around his neck then looks to me like I’m in on some grand elaborate scheme of his. Marissa looks to me with the same snarl she was sporting just moments ago. Clearly she isn’t happy to have her claws out of his back. Not many girls would be.

“But…” Marissa attempts to protest with the whiniest tone imaginable.

"I said…We. Are. Done. Here," Graham barks with an authority that you don’t have any choice, but to listen to. I jump at his sharp tone as he keeps his eyes directly on me. I hate his obvious amusement at my reaction to him. I play with the ends of my ponytail as she walks by bumping her shoulder into mine. There was no mistake there. She was proving her point.

I reach for the door just as Graham's large hand shoots out to open it for me. I slide past him into the hallway noticing that he follows in after me. As I pass the doors for the locker room, I realize that he isn’t heading that way. He’s only a few feet behind me. His cleats on the tiled floor give him away.

"Do you need something?" I turn quickly to face him. Graham stops a few strides behind me leaning his back against the wall. He looks at ease. He acts as if following me isn’t anything out of the ordinary when in fact it’s anything but normal.

"What's your name?" Graham asks quizzically playing with the belt around his baseball pants. "I don't think I've ever seen you around here."

For crying out loud…That's just perfect. If I don't already feel invisible, he just put the last nail in my social pariah coffin.

"You probably haven't," I answer resentfully. "Why would you?" I say the last part under my breath. I continue to walk needing to get as much distance between us as possible.

Graham isn’t taking the hint. He pushes off of the wall catching up to me. I can practically feel the heat from him against my back. "I'll ask again. What’s your name, beautiful?"

I roll my eyes at the generic pet name. I’m clearly not his type. What’s his angle with this? I think of a million scenarios in my head where Graham would actually have a reason to speak to me, coming up with zilch---nothing. There is no reason in this universe why Graham should be speaking to me.

I’m glutton for punishment, so naturally I take the bait.