Page 9 of Five Summers

“Princess. Why did you call me Princess?” Her tone carries a hint of annoyance.

“Because you are a Princess, right? I’ve seen your cushy life,” I say as I approach the doors of the 7-Eleven.

I decide not to bring up the fact that I saw her and her mom having an argument on the street. It’s something I’ll keep to myself. Besides, I can’t help but wonder what they could possibly be arguing about, given her privileged life and everything.

The glass doors of the shop slide open. I take a step inside, feeling a rush of cool air against my skin. Poppy is right behind, her voice getting drowned out by the background noise.

“Trust me, Xander, I don’t live a privileged life. You know absolutely nothing about me.”

“You can pretend all you want, Princess, but I’ve seen your cushy house.” I slip through the narrow aisle, carefully watching the cashier.

As the cashier assists a customer, I make my way towards the hot food section. My eyes scan the brightly lit area, hopeful for a mouthwatering find. But nothing. The heating bays stand illuminated but dishearteningly vacant. I let out a sigh and accept the disappointing sight. Determined to satisfy my cravings, I opt for an alternative plan. With speed, I snatch a handful of chocolate bars, their wrappers softly crinkling in my grip. With a mischievous smile, I carefully slip them into my pockets.

As I quickly stuff more goodies into my other pockets, I glance up and catch Poppy’s gaze fixed on me.

She marches up the aisle, her eyes locked with mine, burning with intense fury.

As she draws nearer, I become increasingly aware of her stunning beauty. It’s not like Jade’s, which is instantly noticeable. Poppy is not afraid to stand up for herself, which I think is awesome and refreshing. Yet, there’s also a vulnerability about her I simply cannot ignore. All I see is pain in her blue eyes when they meet mine, revealing a depth of emotion that words cannot convey. Her face, with its graceful contours and gentle jawline, exudes a fragility that both intrigues and worries me. It is only now that I realize how her radiant beauty has gone unnoticed before, like a hidden gem waiting to be discovered.

Fuck! You need to stop looking at her that way.Ace would have my balls if he found out all the dirty thoughts racing through my head about what I want to do to Poppy Reeves.

“Get them out of your pants now,” she spits, her gaze fixed over my shoulder to the cashier who is still assisting the customer behind me.

Casually, I toss out the following words, carefully watching her reaction to assess whether she might be open to the filthy thoughts crossing my mind.

“Princess, if you wanted me to pull out my cock so you can suck it, you should have mentioned it back at the house.”

She clenches her jaw, grinding her teeth together. Her eyes, full of rage, narrow, while her brows furrow. Stepping forward, she closes the gap until our bodies touch. The intensity of her presence sears through me, and my heart starts pounding erratically in my chest. Excitement tingles through every nerve in my body. What the fuck is going on with me?

As her gaze pierces through me, I find myself studying every contour and intricate detail that graces her face. I am captivated by the sight of her mesmerizing eyes, the gentle tremble of her lips, and the graceful curve of her eyebrows.

“You should know, asshole,” she hisses at me through clenched teeth. “I choke on small bones.”

Filled with anger, she abruptly turns on her heels and strides out of the store. Her actions clearly reveal the depth of her intense frustration.

As I watch her walk away, a mischievous grin forms at the corners of my lips. I can't help but stare at her body, especially her amazing ass. There’s something intriguing about Poppy, despite her reputation. She's a total loner at school, with no one to talk to or hang out with. It sucks that people see her as an outcast and always bully her. But she's the only chick in school who's not afraid to speak up.

Chapter four

Poppy

Over the following week, Xander continues with his usual behavior, completely ignoring me at school. I thought it might've changed after he chatted with me on the street. But nope. He didn't even acknowledge me in the slightest.

Sometimes, he’d be with Jade and her friends when they’d make fun of me for being fat. Even though he never joined in, it made me see that Xander would never want to be friends with someone like me. Not with so many pretty girls available to him to do anything he wants. So why would he bother?

Still, I maintain my strength in the face of mockery and insults about my appearance, never revealing to them the deep impact they have on me. Beneath the surface, their cruel wordsfeel like a constant hammer chipping away at the protective armor I have built around myself.

Although I had some reservations, I couldn’t help but find pleasure in watching Xander effortlessly manipulate the girls to do whatever he wanted. His mere presence seemed to breathe life into everything, filling my world with vibrant colors and rescuing it from monotony.

I'd spot Xander and Ace, casually smoking and talking to those girls who are known for being easy. His charm is undeniably evident, even from a distance. It didn’t take long for me to become familiar with his behavior patterns. Without fail, it played out in the exact same manner every single time. He would lean in, his lips almost brushing against the girl’s ear, whispering something secretive. Every once in a while, he'd tuck her hair behind her ear and say a few words before leaving. And I'd see how they would be totally addicted to him.

Then the playful smirk that would appear on his face when the girl called out to him and raced to catch up. For him, it was just a game. A game he played well. I could clearly see that there was some truth to the rumors. Once Xander achieved what he wanted, he would ignore them until he needed it again. No matter how many times I saw him manipulate others, I couldn't resist his captivating charm.

At times, when I glanced in his direction, I would catch him staring at me, which honestly felt a bit peculiar. It made me wonder if he had somehow discovered my secret habit of observing him. In an attempt to divert his attention, I would swiftly shift my gaze or pretend to be engrossed in something else. Yet, no matter how discreet I tried to be, his gaze would unfailingly be fixated on me whenever I looked back.

Sometimes, my obsession went even further. As soon as my mom headed off to work, I would sit by the front window, peering through a tiny hole in the curtain. It became anightly routine for me, without exception. Every single night, I would watch him strolling toward the nearby 7-Eleven. And like clockwork, within seven short minutes, he would return, indulging in the chocolate bars he no doubt had stolen.

I couldn’t understand the reason behind his actions. Was it a compulsion to steal, fueled by the excitement of not getting caught - or perhaps he’s simply bored and looking for something to occupy his time?

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