The dare

"Wait, What? Did he really just call me BASIC?!" Clara thought angrily as she stomped to her seat. She was beyond furious, not a single guy had ever turned her down before, and definitely not in such a rude manner as Cyra had.

"He doesn't even know me, how could he assume that! Does he think I'm just some bimbo?" She scrapped her chair loudly against floor and flopped down hard. Her anger was turning into hurt but she was determined to focus on the anger instead. She fumed in her seat hoping for class to be over quickly.

"Ok class, we won't have time to work on your coding project in class today, since we are not finished with yesterday's lesson. So everyone take out your laptop and finish what you were working on. You can find time to work with your partner outside of class."

Cyra looked over to Clara, who was still fuming with arms crossed and he sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I just, I know your type too well, and... well, you're just not my type. There's no point in leading you on if it won't go anywhere, don't you agree? And since we have to work together we might as well try to be civil." He seemed frank but sincere in his apology, but Clara was too infuriated to hear him.

"Your type? What do you mean you're type?!" She was nearly shouting and students were starting to stare. Cyra waved his arms as a vein attempt to lower her voice. "So you think I'm just a pretty face without a brain then?" She didn't care about the onlookers, she was too enraged now.

"What? No. You're a... a good girl, that's all" he shrugged.

Clara was put back by his answer. She puzzled over it for a minute before answering. "So... that's why?" Her jaw loosened and she uncrossed her arms. "Well, I hate to break it to you but I'm not that good. I curse, I argue and I'm a little conceited. Ok, a LOT conceited. Why would you ever think that I'm innocent?" Clara looked down at her tight mid-thigh dress and low bustline, then at her not-so-modest 5 inch platform sandals. She lifted an eyebrow. "Do I look innoc…" she started.

"Oh no no no, definitely not. I never said innocent!" he interrupted. "I said good." he laughed, making Clara's lips tighten and her cheeks burn. Cyra noticed her irritation and laughed even harder.

"Look, Princess" he mocked, "I know your type. You arrived to class 10 minutes early, your backpack is exploding with books, and the screen saver on the phone, the one that never leaves your hand, is a quote by Aristotle. You are your parent's dream child, am I right? Straight A cheerleader that never makes a fuss? The perfect little princess."

Clara's rage had risen to dangerous levels. She pierced her fingernails deep into her palm, clenching her teeth. Cyra thought she might actually hit him but she turned away sharply instead. She sat silently, biting her lip so as not to scream again.

"Prove me wrong." Cyra challenged.

Clara snapped her head quickly to see Cyra smirking. He gave her a wink. Her eyes burned through him.

"Go on a date with me tomorrow. Prove to me that you aren't a goodie good who's all work and no play." He stared harder, his dark eyes pierced into her like a blade of black ice, and just as dangerous. No hint of a smile was left, just pure intensity. "I dare you."