Stephanie sat quietly in chemistry class, not hearing a word that the teacher said. She was much too busy drawing the teacher dying in various, gory ways. Her lab partner awoke from his slumber, and turned his head to see the various doodles. After this, he immediately retreated to the dark safety of his arms and went back to sleep out of pure fear.
Her artistry was interrupted by a buzz in her pocket. Making sure the teacher wasn’t looking, Stephanie’s hand dove into her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. It read: 1 new message: Max Bishop (with three hearts emojis).
Coach just talked to me. I made starting five!
Stephanie had to restrain herself from letting out a whoop of joy. But her expression quickly soured when she received a second message.
I have next period free...maybe we could...celebrate? (Insert an excessive amount of kiss-blowing emojis here)
She turned her phone off and a wild feeling filled her. She knew she could help Max to reach his full potential But he couldn’t, so long as one little road block was in the way.
“Damian,” she growled under her breath. The king of the school. Darling of every staff member. The person that every girl (and a fair amount of guys) had their eye on. She needed to get him out of the way, so Max could achieve that godlike status. But how?
Clearly, Stephanie’s mindset had changed. As observed by her lab partner, Dan, the subject of her artistic endeavors had changed from Mr. White to Damian. Dan shook his head and retreated back to the safety of his arms and sleep.
Stephanie was retrieving her books for her French class when suddenly, her vision was obscured.
She laughed. “If it’s my boyfriend who just made starting five, he’d better take his hands off my eyes and kiss me.” She turned around and planted a kiss right on Max’s lips.
Stephanie’s kisses were never sweet and cute. They were always possessive. For instance, whenever she kissed Max, she always grabbed his shirt collar. Any normal guy would have realized, “she’s a psycho, run for the hills!” But Max was delirious in his love for Stephanie as he escorted her to their next class.
“Party at Damian’s tonight, and then we have practice tomorrow.”
“Damian will never make it to practice tomorrow,” Stephanie plotted out loud.
“Hm?” Max knew Stephanie was prone to violent outbursts, but this one in particular concerned him. “I feel like this needs to be discussed more.”
“No discussion needs to be held. We need to make this silent, yet deadly. And you can’t let on that you know anything.”
“Stephanie, what are you talking about?”
“Leave it to me,” she giggled, “So...are the wives of the basketball team invited to this little shindig?”
Max knew there were two sides to Stephanie: the cute side and the murderous side. And Max had a feeling he’d be seeing a lot more of the latter in the days to come.