1

Rain hammered against the classroom window, each droplet morphing the outside world into a blurred, shifting canvas. The misty mornings of Oregon were my ally; a cloak for the mischief I thrived on. As the days inched closer to June, the warmth began to creep in, yet the early fog still provided cover for the things I did best: sneaking around, causing chaos. For me, this place was more than just a setting; it was a partner in crime.

Mr. Henderson's voice sliced through the classroom as he read passionately from Wuthering Heights, his emotions so intense that it even drew my attention away from the, usually more interesting, rain-slicked window. His tears and dramatic gestures almost unsettling. I used to think he might be a bit of a sociopath, one of those teachers who probably shouldn't be around kids, but they say when you find something you love it changes you. And there he was, sobbing over a fucking book - how pitiful.

"Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living. You said I killed you–haunt me then. The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe–I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always–take any form–drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!"

Katelyn Baron, our ever so insufferable prefect, was dabbing at her eyes during Heathcliff's monologue. Even the cheerleaders were sniffling. What was going on? What was so incredible about this book that it had everyone practically shitting their pants with sadness?

I refused to believe that love could drive a grown man to madness or make him wish his life away because of the supposed torment of being apart from his 'one true love.' It all seemed like nonsense to me. Humans are inherently selfish; there's no way I'd ever let someone else have that much control over me.

Just as I was about to let out a mocking snort and grab my bag to leave, the classroom door swung open. Headmistress Burrows strode in with a suspicious smile that quickly evaporated into a tight frown when she saw Mr. Henderson with a tissue stuffed up his nose.

"Really, Arthur, Wuthering Heights again? It's not even on the syllabus."

"I'm sorry Ma'am it's just so poignant."

She rolled her eyes and started scanning the room. "I was heading to my office when I thought I'd pick up the student who vandalized the entire east corridor last night..." Her gaze zeroed in on me. "Ah, Jungkook, would you like to follow me?"

Fuck sake.

"Actually, I'm afraid I'm just about to fuck off out of here, Angie. Catch me next time?" I slid open the window next to me, considering the twenty-foot drop, but then the thought beckoned that I was probably about to be expelled.

Which sounded pretty fucking lovely if you ask me.

I turned back to see her standing with her hands on her hips and one thin brow raised. She thought I wouldn't jump but she was wrong... I totally would.

"Actually, on second thought, Ang, I've been craving those cookies on Brenda's desk. I'll happily escort you to your office."

Mrs. Burrows was silently fuming but managed to keep her composure in front of the class. My antics weren't anything new, in fact, some students probably found them entertaining. Especially the cheerleaders, they were always looking for someone to crinkle their uniform.

"Come with me, Mr Jeon."

I grimaced at her formalities but followed anyway, making sure to stop and wink at Hannah Witters as I passed her desk. I caught a glimpse of her cleavage and, though she gasped in horror, I saw her smile at her friend as I walked away.

I needed to remind myself to get her number.

-

I took my usual seat in the head's office and munched on the cookie Brenda had offered me.

"When is this going to end, Jungkook?" Mrs. Burrows leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk, clearly eager for the eye contact she wasn't going to get. "First, it was trashing the gym, then Mr. Henderson's car, and now you've vandalized forty-five lockers. What's making you act out like this?"

Truthfully, I liked Angela. She was a good headmistress; one who actually cared about me—an unusual trait—but boy did she have a knack for sticking her nose into my business.

"I thought Taehyung's locker needed a makeover. He walks around like he's got a huge cock, so I thought I'd show him what a huge cock actually looks like. Then I got carried away and started drawing loads of tiny cocks just so he could see the difference between his and mine. But then I didn't give my cock justice, so I kept drawing it until it was perfect. Mine are the bigger ones if you didn't understand." I rested my chin on my palm, smiling sweetly as Mrs Burrows' cheeks got increasingly redder.

She was lucky I didn't set fire to the boy's locker room with the football team inside it. Taehyung was a massive cunt, with a repulsive ego, and a tiny dick. He was hellbent of making my life all the more difficult.

"Would you please watch your language?" Mrs. Burrows snapped, pulling a slip from her stationary tray. "I'm writing you up. You'll help clean the lockers and apologize to the janitor and everyone else who had to see your..." She struggled to find a way to describe my drawings.

"Cocks?"

"Particular form of expression," she corrected.

"I thought we were encouraged to express ourselves here?"

"Not with-"

"Cocks?"

She sighed and attempted a different approach. "How's everything at home?"

She was pushing it too far now and she knew it. My life outside of school wasn't any of her concern nor the counsellor's that she signed me up for.

"So, you're not excluding me?" I asked, ignoring her previous question.

"Despite common belief, Jungkook, I do have your best interest at heart. Expulsion doesn't help either of us."

Not what I wanted to hear.

I got up and swung my bag over my shoulder, knocking half the ornaments off of her desk in the process, and reached for the door handle. Yes, I could feel her disappointment and no, I didn't care.

"See ya, Angie."

I could hear her puff out some air in defeat. "Would you please send in Miss Nikolaev on your way out?"

It always surprised me when someone asked something of me as if I were actually going to follow orders for once. I had no clue who this Nikolaev was and no interest in sending her through the gates of hell. The last thing you want at this school is to be on Mrs. Burrows' radar. Once you're on it, you'll never catch a break.

As I walked back through the reception area, my mind was fixed on a McDonald's cheeseburger. I waved to Brenda, who offered me another cookie, which I initially declined. But then I noticed her - the girl sitting nervously in the waiting area, tapping her foot and biting her nails. The scene was oddly captivating. Though I would have preferred popcorn, the cookie was a fine companion as I watched her. There was something about her that drew me in, making me want to linger and observe her for as long as possible.

Holy damn, that was the type of girl I wanted to see naked.

I was frozen in place, my lips dry and my throat parched. Had she somehow sapped every bit of moisture from my body with just her presence?

Well, I'll be damned.

She was fascinating. Her wild, dirty blonde hair was pinned back, accentuating her delicate, doll-like features. Her pouty lips, a vibrant red, contrasted strikingly with her large, almond-shaped eyes, which were a fantastic shade of blue, reminiscent of the rarest sapphire from Sri Lanka. But what truly seized my attention was the delicate pink flush that spread across her ivory skin as soon as she noticed me.

She glanced away, but I held my gaze. When she looked back, I maintained my stare.

"What?" she blurted out so loudly that it made Brenda jump.

She was definitely talking to me, yet I found no words to reply with.

Frankly, I could only laugh.

Her bitten lips closed in defeat, seemingly embarrassed by her outburst. I found it cute how she rubbed her thighs awkwardly, begging for anything to remove her from the tension I was purposely building. I wanted her to crave my attention, my response, and to feel the weight of my gaze. I imagined her rising from her seat, shedding her clothes, and surrendering herself to me...

Okay, I'll admit, that was an opportunistic expectation that probably wasn't going to happen... at least not yet.

Anyway, I then did what I did best: I headed to McDonald's, trying to convince myself that my interest in her was just a fleeting distraction.

***

Author Notes

There we have it, Chapter 1 of Doomed If We Do. Bad boy JK meets...