[continued from here] || @danielle-jenkins ||
DANI.
Danielle wasn’t particularly someone who enjoyed a scene. Yes, she loved being the center of attention, she couldn’t deny that. But she didn’t necessarily like a scene. So, if anything, when Jackson made contact with her and she made contact with the wall next to her locker, the first emotion she felt was annoyed.
To any onlooker, they’d be shocked. He was being so rough with a girl. But Danielle wasn’t just a girl, she could handle her own. Her first reaction was to growl lowly under her throat, flinching a bit from the contact.
She opened her eyes to meet Jackson’s, trying her best not to get too angry and slip up. She might have had less self control than Jackson—eh, actually, nobody could have less self control than Jackson. Once he discarded her like yesterday’s trash, she stood there for a moment while everyone crowded and asked are you okay? do you need anything? what’s his deal?
Christ, people, I’m fine.
With a snarl, she took off after him. She didn’t catch up until they had both reached the upper level of the school, and she grabbed his arm just as forcefully, tugging him into an empty classroom off the path. Slamming the door behind her, she shoved him up against the wall of the whiteboard, her eyes transitioning from a natural blue to an ice blue.
“Who the hell do you think you are, Whittemore?” Dani snapped. “Maybe instead of treating me like garbage in front of the whole school, ask me about it in private, you short-tempered asshole!”
“But it’s alright, not my reputation I’m tarnishing. Pushing a fucking girl around.”
Jackson rolls his eyes so hard his optic nerves might snap. He can feel the uncomfortable metal shelf where the whiteboard markers rest pressed against his lower back. The pain ripples through his spine and only further pisses him off. Markers clatter to the floor.
“Give me a fucking break,” He barks right back, his steel blue eyes penetrating hers. pushing back against her so he’s not cornered against the board, “You’re not just some poor, defenseless girl, so save the act. If you can dish it out you can sure as hell take it.”
“What’s the matter, Dani?” He takes another stride forward, tilting his head at her. His bottom lip juts out in a pout, but he doesn’t feel any pity for her. He’s merely mocking her, “You don’t want to air your dirty laundry out in front of the whole school? Don’t worry babe, they’re probably going to find out eventually.
And then what? You’ll run away, back to Washington or to the next town over, with your tail between your legs? I mean, you’re on the track team, right? You’ve got the legs for it. I think you’ve got enough practice at running off. Unless that’s a big, fat lie too. But hey, you know what? You can craft a new identity for yourself based on more lies since you’re so good at that too.”
