The Bad Boy Who Saved Me

The blare of my alarm clock was quickly overshadowed by the familiar, insistent shout from downstairs. "Miko! Get your ass down here! Wake up! It's time for school!"

My mother's voice, as beautiful as it was demanding, cut through the last vestiges of sleep. A quick glance at the time sent a jolt of panic through me: 5:55 AM. School started at 6:45. I was going to be late.

Springing from bed, I made a mad dash for the bathroom, a whirlwind of motion as I showered and quickly pulled on a crop top and ripped black jeans. My hair, freed from its nightly braid, cascaded in waves, the white-dyed tips adding a cool edge.

Downstairs, Kylie, my younger sister, was already giving me the stink eye. "What took you so long?! Do you know that I'm going to be late now because of you?" she huffed, and I couldn't help but tease her. "Why? You got a boyfriend waiting for you, huh?"

Mom intervened, her voice firm. "Knock it off girls. Now hurry up and eat. Mikayla, you're going to drive Kylie to school today, okay? I have to go to grandma's to drop Blake off."

After a hurried breakfast, Kylie and I were out the door, her complaints about boys at her school echoing in the morning air. I dropped her off, laughing at her annoyed expression, then sped towards my own school, the clock ticking relentlessly. It was 6:34, and I knew I'd have to run.

But as I practically sprinted through the 'doors of hell', burdened by my 'bricks' of textbooks, a moment of distraction led to an inevitable collision. BAM. I hit something, hard. My eyes squeezed shut, bracing for impact, but instead, two muscular arms caught me, steadying me by the waist. Opening my eyes, I found myself staring into a pair of captivating green and brownish eyes, looking at me as if I were an angel.

And that's when my senior year truly began.