He instantly grabs my tray. "Come sit with us." And with that, he starts walking to his table.

I'm left staring at his back with eyes like saucers. 'Us' who?! The questions rush in my head, making it boil even more. His gang? His friends? The knots come back in my stomach and my brain. I'm not at ease with people I don't know, even less with popular bad boys...

But I guess I have no choice, as Alex is already heading to the back of the catering hall with my tray. So I quickly follow him, even if I'm not really hungry anymore, and the eyes I feel on me all the way are not helping my knotted stomach. I try to ignore them, focusing on Alex's back in front of me.

I finally catch up with Alex just as he puts my tray on the table, the table the farthest from the entrance, the bad boys' table.

I don't even have time to catch my breath that he announces, "Dudes, this is Elena."

The four heads that have been down on their plate or on their phone – or both – not noticing us until now, all turn to us, or more exactly me, at the same time. I've been speaking of the lions' den just minutes ago, and now here I am.

"And here are Logan, Greg, Cameron, and Dylan." He points to each boy.

Though I already know them: two are in our class, and I know the others by sight because everyone has heard about the bad boys.

They all say 'hi', greeting me with smiles or nods. Despite their 'bad boys' appearances with dark clothes and strong features, they all seem quite friendly and not as scary as I've thought. However, next to Alex, no one looks as dangerous and dark.

Speaking of the baddest bad boy, he pulls out a chair for me like a gentleman, and then he sits on the one right next.

Sitting down, I stare dumbfounded at my plate, not used to so much attention as all eyes around the table are on me, and I can also feel around the wide room.

"So you're new here?" Cameron asks me, observing me with his bright blue eyes.

He's a senior too, but not in my class, and even if I know him by sight, apparently he doesn't know me.

"No, I've always been in this school," I reply, a light burn coming to my cheeks as I start to fiddle with my fork.

This is exactly what I've been talking about: I'm not good at interacting with people. I'm only good at setting awkwardness.

A slapping sound pulls me out my stare at the cutlery and out of the awkward atmosphere: Greg, who is in my class, smacking Cameron behind the head. "Don't mind him, he's a dumbass!" He gives me a smile.

"Hey!" Cameron grumbles.

"That's okay, it happens all the time..." I say, nibbling on my lower lip. Though at least, their little playful fight has lightened my mood.

"Then they're fucking blind," Alex whispers.

My cheeks turn hotter, and a smile spreads on my lip from the warmth. Even though we're just friends, it means a lot to me, maybe more than it should.

"Do you want some cheese?" Cameron offers me, probably trying to make up for what he has just said but not really succeeding.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Alex's jaw tensing, while Cameron looks at me with big eyes, like a puppy, waiting for an answer. I don't know why but I just burst out laughing. I must look like a lunatic, yet the pressure from what has happened minutes ago is just letting up in a lightness, even though I'm currently surrounded by the bad boys of the town. "No thanks!"

Cameron glances dumbfounded around the table, searching for an answer around the table, yet except for Alex's frown and my laugh, no one seems to understand what it's about.

"Greg, can you smack him for me please!" Alex asks, shaking his head.

"I don't know why, but gladly!" Greg replies with a grin, yet Cameron grabs his hand before it can hit him.

"Do you want to repeat yesterday's practice?! I've beaten you in no time!" Cameron smirks.

Then, they all start talking, well half talking, half arguing about their fights and other boys' stuff, while I eat quietly my food, zoning out.

However, I come back to reality when I feel a pair of eyes on me, more exactly burning through me. I turn my head, knowing already whose it is because there is only one person who has this effect on me.

Yet when my eyes meet those penetrating ones, my breath is still caught by the sparking intensity I find there. I forget my plate of pasta; I forget the loud atmosphere of the cafeteria, and I forget the world outside. All my senses are focused on those tenebrous shades and on all the reactions they arise inside my chest as his gaze is like a hypnotizing blaze that sets my soul on fire.

"You don't finish your spaghetti, Elena?" A voice across the table draws me out of Alex's ardent stare.

All the noises of the world outside rush back to my ear, while the blood runs to my cheeks, and I have to blink back my eyes to focus on the owner of the voice: Logan. He's staring at my plate of leftover spaghetti pretty much the same way I've been fixing Alex's gaze.

"Er... no." I haven't had much appetite with everything today, and now it's something else that I'm craving...

"Can I take them?" Logan asks, oblivious to my dazed state as the plate is already in his hands.

"Er... yeah... but I think they're cold."

"Oh! It doesn't stop him! Logan could eat food from a trash can! He's a glutton!" Cameron barges in with a laugh.

And it must be true because Logan has already almost finished my plate. But I guess he needs calories, being really tall and quite well-built.

"He needs fuel if he doesn't want to be knocked down like last time!" Dylan, who is sitting next to him, gives him a pat on the back.

"He got knocked down because he's too slow!" Alex remarks, and I finally risk a glance at him to catch his legendary smirk.

"Hey! I was in a choke! The bastard was clinching to me! I couldn't move!" Logan argues with his mouth full.

It's almost fascinating to follow their passionate debate, and it's a nice distraction to all my preoccupations.

"I still don't understand why you didn't do a Greco throw?!" Greg asks him.

"The way he was clinching to me, only Alex could've done it."

I look at Alex, who shrugs with a big cocky grin on his perfect face.

"With some strength, you could have punched him from behind!" Dylan suggests, shaking his head.

"And why not an elbow strike, it would've hurt more?" I join in, my quiet voice contrasting with their deep and loud ones, yet shutting them all up.

They all stare at me with wide eyes, except Alex, whose dark eyes are shining with a twinkle I've already seen but that I can't decipher, and of course, a smirk is hinting on his lips.

"You- you know how to fight?!" Logan's jaw is gaping, while he has even dropped his fork and stopped eating.

"Yeah, she has a lot of talents: Physics, cooking, fighting..." Alex replies, throwing an arm over the back of my chair.

His forearm is skimming slightly my back, and it sparks more heat spreading until my cheeks, as if all those big eyes on me weren't enough to make me burn.

Yet finally finding my voice, I dare to say with a small sly smile, "I've got a great teacher for fighting..."

The boys just stare at us, not understanding, and probably still in shock from my suggestion.

"Oh! And speaking of cooking!" I dig in my bag, searching for a little detail I've forgotten in all this tumult. "Do you want some cookies?"

All their gazes suddenly light up in front of my little packet.

"Yeah gladly!" Logan exclaims, his voice and appetite back in full force.

"Yum!" Dylan praises, biting in one cookie.

"I like you already!" Greg adds, his cookie already disappeared.

I smile shyly in return, speechless in front of their sweetness.

In no time, the cookies are all devoured, not a single crumb remaining. They all compliment me, and it's crazy how five of the baddest bad boys can be nicer than some people I know...

"Er... I should get going. I have to go change my shirt before class." I get up and grab my tray when I see the time.

Generally, the lunchtime is always ticking so slowly at the cafeteria, but today it has vanished without me noticing.

"Bye! And feel free to come hang with us anytime soon! You and your cookies!" Logan grins.

"See you later," Alex tells me, offering me one of his heart-melting smiles, and I avoid his gaze to not make another disaster as my hands are full with my tray and bag.

"Bye Lena!" Cameron waves, apparently having already come up with a nickname for me.

"Bye!" I give them a smile as they wave or nod at me, and like this, I leave the lions' den, almost regretfully.

***

I give one last look at the deep red stain on my shirt before putting it in my locker. It hasn't been that bad finally, and now that I've changed myself with a spare T-shirt I've luckily had in my gym bag, the only thing remaining from it all is the smile on my lips from everything that has happened after, everything that has happened thanks to... my friend. Friend? I guess it's better than nothing, and I like to spend time with him, so I shouldn't pay too much attention to the weight this word is leaving on my stomach.

As if thinking about my 'friend' has made him appear, Alex comes up to me just as I close my locker door.

"Hey, Miss Clumsy Cookie! Haven't you lost something?" He smirks, leaning against the lockers.

"Er..." Still confused by my thoughts, I look back in my bag, rummaging around. I have my phone, my earphones; I don't have the cookies anymore, but that's normal. I also see my books for the next classes, so everything except...

All the blood drains from my face. No, it can't be this, everything but not this...

"Is that what you're looking for?" I slowly lift up my head to come face to face with what I've been praying not to: my blue notebook in Alex's hands.

"Where did you find it?!" I breathe a shallow breath, only half relieved.

"On the floor, under our table, it must have fallen from your bag."

I curse myself and my clumsiness in my head, while Alex just stares at me with a cocked eyebrow. I quickly try to grab the notebook, yet he moves it away with a devious smirk.

"D-did you read what's inside?" I stammer, biting my lip.

His smirk widens. "Maybe..."

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, praying silently that he's just joking as my eyes search for any sign on his face, but who I am kidding?! His mischievous smirk is a pretty obvious sign that he's read it.

My heart stops when I realize what it means... He could have read everything inside this notebook... all my thoughts, my heart, my mind, my imagination I put in this story I'm writing.

He leans closer, his face becoming serious as he bores his gaze into mine. "Is it you who wrote it?"

"Yeah... but it's just musings... it's not really good, I know..." I offer him a weak smile, though I'm so paralyzed inside that I'm not even sure it can resemble a rictus.

"It's not good. It's even better! From what I've read, it's fucking brilliant! You're really talented!" The inflections in his voice warm up my chest and my cheeks. "I guess it's another of your hidden talents..."

My heart flutters with the sparkle in his penetrating eyes, but I shake my head. "You don't have to be nice. I know it's not really–"

"I'm never being nice. I'm just honest." He cuts me off, his intense eyes still locked with mine silencing all my doubts and insecurities for a second.

"Well... Thank you." I smile shyly. "But can you give it back to me?" I add with pleading eyes.

He takes the notebook out from behind his back, yet still away from my reach.

"I don't know..." He opens the notebook, browsing through the filled pages. "I want to read more of the story..."

His sly smirk is frightening as I imagine him reading my words. So I try to grab my precious notebook, but he's faster and holds it above his head.

"Please!"

"Will you let me read the rest?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No!"

"Then, I'll keep it!" He gives me a wicked grin, waving the notebook above his head, where I can't reach it.

I try to jump, but I'm too small. I try to grab his arm, but he's too strong, and he doesn't move an inch, chuckling at my pathetic attempts. I'm kinda giving up, yet it's too important, and that's when something clicks in my mind. When a situation is desperate, there's only one thing left to do... ticklings.

I immediately tickle him with all my will while trying to reach for his arm at the same time. I manage to make him laugh, yet he keeps the notebook out of my reach. I only end up out of breath, pleading him and laughing too because he tickles me back.

It's weird because even though getting back my notebook is still at the front of my mind, I don't have any weight or fear. I feel light, probably because of Alex's tickles distracting me.

"Ahem! Is there any problem?" A severe voice stops the light moment with a heavy seriousness. 

I freeze, turning around to see the principal in his grey suit, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Er... n-no..." I stutter in front of his strict face, the crinkles around his eyes and mouth only deepening his stern look.

"Is Mr. Carter bothering you?" I realize his gaze – well, almost glare – is directed toward Alex, and my heart does a painful jump against my ribcage.

"No, no!" I find a slightly louder voice, glancing back at Alex. But his grin has totally disappeared in an unreadable expression like a book closing with a thud.

"Then, why aren't you two in class?! The bell has rung!"

I widen my eyes, now realizing the hallway is deserted. I haven't even heard the bell, once again forgetting, escaping the world outside when I'm with Alex.

"You better hurry to get in class, if you don't want to get detention again!" the principal adds, his severe gaze still aimed at Alex.

I nod quickly, though I don't even know if he sees me, and I rush away to our classroom. I hear Alex following behind since we have class together, but I don't dare to look back.

As we enter the classroom, Alex slips me back the notebook in my hand without a word, just offering me an enigmatic smile. I don't ask anything, and I just quickly find my seat in silence as luckily, the teacher is talking to a colleague and hasn't noticed us come in late.

I'm still in shock as the class begins. I can't concentrate on anything; everything keeps replaying in my head: Alex's smile, his eyes passing from sparkling to an unfazed facade, the goosebumps he has once again created brushing my hand, the very clear way he has pronounced 'friends'... But most importantly what keeps haunting me is the fact that he's read my notebook... He knows I'm writing. He knows what I'm writing.

Until now, only two persons have known it: my Mom and my literature teacher, and no one has ever read this notebook, this fantasy story that has come out of my imagination. It's like Alex has seen a part of my secret world, a part of me I usually don't show... And I don't know what to think... It makes me vulnerable, not protected under the usual walls I've built. He's seen the real me... Yet with him, I always feel safe and myself... So do I trust him?

I leaf through my notebook, absent-mindedly, when a handwriting that's not mine catch my eye:

'You're really talented, you have a unique writing style.

Why aren't you in a literary path?!

I'm sure one day you'll be a best-selling author, Miss Clumsy Cookie ;)'

Without realizing it, a wide smile stretches my lips, and I'm staring at those words that make my cheeks warmer and warmer and my heart rate faster and faster.

So what do you think of these bad boys? And Elena's hidden talents? :)

I hope you like this chapter, please let me know what you think in the comments, vote, add to your library...

Your help and feedbacks are more than welcome! :)