Today is Derek's and my first study session together. He texted me saying we should go to the local park by our school. Its been about ten minutes since we met up and all we have done is sit on a blue bench, drink Starbucks, and talk about random subjects.

"We should probably start studying now. I'm really behind," I suggested when my laughing died down from a joke that Derek told me earlier.

"Ok. So...what are we learning?" Derek asked me as he texted a message to someone on his iPhone.

I laughed again. "You don't even know what we're learning?"

Derek put his phone face-down on the table and looked up and the sky, "um no? Remember I don't go to class."

I opened my history book and tried looking for the chapter we were focusing on during this unit. "Then why should I trust that you will help me get a good grade, huh?"

Derek rested his hand on my hand and I tried not to flinch. "Relax darling, I dont try hard but I'm smart. And history is my favorite subject, remember?" Derek's blonde hair flapped infront of his face as he looked down at his shoes, which were tapping a rythmn against the concrete.

His hand on mine. I bet every girl would die to touch his hand, but to me, it wasn't a good feeling. His touch felt like déjà vú. There was something about Derek's touch reminded me of Luke. And I absolutely hated it.

Moving my hand away from his, I took out my notebook, different colored pens and highlighters, and flash cards. "Fine, I trust that you will help. Shall we start?"

Derek noticed my strange change in mood and scooted an inch away from me. Good. But he smirked. "Of course."

For an hour, we studied and read from the history book. I couldn't help but notice every five minutes or so, he would inch his hand closer to me; sometimes resting it on my thigh or draping it around my waist.

I felt violated and very uncomfortable, but I don't think he noticed because he continued to run his hand along my thigh or even run his fingers through my hair. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and checked the time.

4:45pm

I sighed. Only fifteen more minutes then you can leave.

Finally taking a hint, Derek took his fingers out of my hair and rested them in his lap. He didn't do it because of my hostility to his touch, but because five guys appeared from the basketball courts.

The boys didn't seem to notice us as they walked down the trail that led through and out of the park. I squinted my eyes to try to see who each of them were. Four of the boys were laughing and walking as a group, but the last one quietly trailed behind, his head down, hands stuffed in the pockets of his basketball shorts, and gaze focused on his shoes.

I almost fainted when I realized the teenage boy in the back of the group was Ryder. My heart thudded at a quickening paste and butterflies flapped their wings inside my stomach.

But my heart stopped when he looked over at me.

My heart literally skipped a beat.

When his eyes met mine, he smiled and oh god my heart almost exploded.

But his smile instantly turned into a disgusted frown when his bright brown eyes met Derek's confident dark blue ones.

Even from far away, I could still see Ryder's eyes clearly. Hypnotized by his brown orbs, I watched as they darkened to the core. Minutes earlier they were bright brown and happy when they met my eyes. But now, they were deadly. In fact, they were dangerous. His eyes turned colder than ice. I should be afraid but I wasn't. The way his eyes could turn from happy to fury in a matter of seconds fascinated me.

'The devil', my mother used to tell me, 'isn't the red man with red horns, wings, and a tail that you have seen drawings of. He's the dream you've always craved. The one who would even make angels damn themselves for his well being. And when he comes for you,' my mother warned me, 'you can't help but enter-twine your pure soul with his.'

As I kept my eyes on his, I realized that he wasn't the cliche high school bad boy who smoked, drank, and was the biggest player. He is something else, something I want. He's bad because he is rebellious. He's bad because he is dangerous. He's bad because he has charm.

Even though I haven't known Ryder for all that long, a feeling inside haunts me to the core, telling me that he's the dream I've always craved. And deep down, the damaged angel that lurked in the depths of my soul wanted a bad boy like Ryder who would show me the wild side of life.

And I was ready for it.

But I was also scared and confused.

Just his cold stare was enough for the rebel inside me to come out to play and cause mayhem. It scared me because I'm too afraid to unleash my dangerous side, afraid it's just like my fathers. But when I look at Ryder, it feels like it wouldn't be a bad idea. I didn't understand, how could a small action like that trigger a powerful rebellion inside my soul?

I wanted to keep staring into his now deadly eyes, but my eyes moved to his hands, that were balled into tight fist.

Was he okay?

"Derek," I tapped him on the shoulder, "why is he balling his fist like that?"

Derek's lazy eyes focused on Ryder's bloody fist. "He's jealous, hun. He's jealous that I, the guy he absolutely hates, is hanging out with you."

Jealousy? It can't be jealousy. Why would he be jealous of Derek?

It made me feel....bad. In a good way. Ryder was jealous. The hottest boy of Willington

High was jealous of me hanging out with Derek.

It seemed unreal.

This is rebellion against Ryder. Maybe it unleashed before you knew.

But I don't like Derek like that.

That's not what Ryder thinks, look.

Looking back up at Ryder, I gasped when I saw tiny droplets of blood dripping from his knuckles. "Oh my gosh! Why is he doing that."

Derek seemed unimpressed. "Damn he's really jealous. That's funny," he chuckled under his breath and I hit him in the back of the head. "Ow! What the hell!"

I glared at him. "Don't laugh! What's wrong with you?"

He rubbed the back of his head in little circles. "Me and Ryder don't like each other...at all. We honestly just hate each other's guts. Well he mostly hates me."

Standing up, I closed my history book and put it in my backpack. "It's actually 'Ryder and I'." I corrected him.

He looked up at me, confused. "Uh what?"

"Never mind," rolling my eyes at him, I put my backpack on, "I'll see you at school, ok?"

Before he could respond, I walked off towards Ryder, who was walking away. "Ryder," I quickened my pace, "wait up!"

He turned around. I was too slow to react and slammed my body against his rock hard one. "Oof!" I stumbled backwards a little bit and he didn't even move an inch. "Sorry sorry!" I apologized but he didn't seem to care.

"What do you want?!" he snapped.

My eyes met his ones. They weren't cold anymore. I was able to figure out how he was feeling because he stared intently at me.

At the animal shelter, he stared at you and you couldn't figure out what he was feeling towards you, why can you now figure it out now?

I liked not being able to figure him out sometimes because it made me question and ponder for hours about every detail that there was. Trying to figure him out was like a puzzle that I desperately needed to solve. There's just something about him...

As I studied his eyes, my eyes softened as I noticed the orbs that moments ago held a cold glow now held pain, anger, and most of all, jealousy.

So Derek was right.

Before he could retaliate, I grabbed onto his wrist and forced him to show me his hands. I inhaled a sharp breath as I observed his bloody palms. In the middle of his palms were four finger nail indents, blood oozing from each.

"W-why?" I choked on my own breath and felt my eyes cast over with a glassy shield.

Ryder ripped his hand out of my grasp and looked at the bench I was sat at with Derek minutes ago. Derek left but that didn't matter at all, not compared to Ryder.

"It doesn't fucking matter." He grumbled under his breath.

A tear trickled down my cheek and I sniffled a few times before I spoke. "Yes it d-does Ryder. Please don't do that to yourself."

When he heard the sadness in my voice, he looked back at me. If his eyes held any sympathy for me crying, he didn't show it, or at least he hid it well. "I don't ever do this, Autumn, I was just upset. Why do you care anyways?"

"Because Ryder, I care. I really do." I admitted and his eyes brightened for a few seconds.

I wiped a tear, "why were you upset?" I asked even though I think I already knew.

Ryder's eyebrows furrowed in anger and his lips curved into a frown. "Because you were hanging out with Derek! He's the biggest player and douche bag at our school! Everyone hates him and you're a fool if you like him."

Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I raised one eyebrow at him. "Why do you care who I hang out with? We were only studying."

"I um..." he looked down at his shoes, brown strands of hair rested on his forehead. "I don't." a faint whisper escaped his lips.

"Oh, ok." I whispered back.

A minute of silence fell in the atmosphere between us, but it felt like time stopped. In this moment of time the wind quieted down, almost waiting to see what happened next between the two of us. I shoved my hands into my sweatshirt pocket and looked around the park. There was no one else. A bright light filtered the park as orange faded to yellow and pink hues painted the sky. The brown and maroon colored leaves crunched under my feet as I rocked back and fourth on my heels, trying to escape the silence.

Ryder watched me and said nothing during the silence. He just stared. I didn't look into his eyes because his eyes trying to communicate with mine made me fear. Apart of me wanted to dive into the brown tide pools that whirled around in his eyes, but the other part of me was terrified that I would find myself lost spinning in the tide pools until they swallowed me whole.

Breaking the silence, I said, "promise you won't do that to your hands again?"

"I promise." he smiled slyly.

I felt a sudden urge to do something that I didn't think he would appreciate but was going to do it anyways. I sheepishly smiled. "Please don't get mad, ok?"

"Wait wha–"

His sentence was cut short when I enveloped him in a strong and caring hug.

At first, his arms didn't move but after he realized I wasn't letting go, he returned the hug and I smiled.

"You realize I just played basketball and I'm sweaty, right?" He commented and chuckled, yet he still held onto me.

But I didn't let go. Instead, I nuzzled more into his chest. "I don't care."

And when his arms gently but protectingly wrapped around my waist, I sighed into his chest.

One word. One word was how his arm felt to me.

Home. I was home.