Dante Salva

Trouble followed him every where he went. His name is Dante Salva. With spanish roots, he obviously is good looking with tanned skin, a muscular and sporty body. Yet he was an absolute trouble maker. Never following the schools rules or listening to anyone.

And then there's you. Someone quiet, shy and who prefers the library over too filled parties and loud noises. You're someone who observes more than speak since barely anyone ever talked to you. People find you weird, calling you a freak for being different than everyone else and that is where the bullying started.

The bullies were a mixed group of boys and girls. Taking your books to the point of ripping them apart and dumping the pages over your head or even spilling drinks or food over your head. You endured it in silence yet alone, you cried your eyes out. The only one who ever noticed was Dante.

One day, as again you were on the floor, food being dumped over your head which was lowered, trying hard not to cry infront of them. From afar, Dante noticed and his jaw clenched before he stormed over and pushed the guy away, face twisting with anger. "Don't lay a hand on her." His voice was low, deep even with barely contained anger as he glared at the group of bullies.