Read Write On Press Presents: The Ultimate Collection of Original Short Fiction, Volume II Page 30

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  Jesse’s heart pounded as she followed Nick to his bike. She had been scared witless when she had first seen him leaning against the fence. He was big, taller than most boys she knew. It had taken her a moment to realize he was around her age. He looked older.

  It was the scar.

  It sat on the left side of his face and slashed from his lip to the center of his cheek; that combined with the hard look in his eyes made him seem dangerous.

  Until she saw his eyes. His voice was low and hard, but he was staring at her in a way that made her feel beautiful. He swept his eyes up and down her in that way men did when they liked what they saw, and then, when those eyes had settled on her face, she had been drawn into their depths. Blue—intense, sky blue eyes that made her forget that she hardly knew him. They made her stutter for God’s sake. The combination of his size, the scar, and the voice that was pure toughness should have scared her. But she wasn’t scared because he had the eyes of a poet; beautiful eyes, sad, wise eyes.

  She knew without a doubt that she was safe with him. It was a feeling that was stronger than all the years of warnings her parents had drummed into her. So, yeah, she was going to take that ride on his bike. Let the rebellion begin, she thought with satisfaction.