Page 7 of Twisted Hunger

Ashlyn Peters never had beef with me until this year when she decided she wanted the attention of a particular bully of mine. Now, she thinks he will notice her if she also starts bullying me. As far as I know, Ashlyn has no idea why he has an issue with me, just that Beau likes to torture the innocent.

One thing that she hasn’t considered is the fact that I’m not afraid to take her ass down if need be. So, when I’m shoved into the nearby wall, and my head bounces off it, I see red. Throwing my books to the floor, I push her from the back, causing her to fall forward and end up sprawled across the floor.

“Oopsie, I tripped.” I pick my books up and step over the redheaded bitch as I walk past her.

“I’ll get you for that, skank!” she calls out, but I keep walking.

If I’ve learned anything these last three years, it’s that I can’t sit back and allow people to walk all over me. Sure, I can only do so much to protect myself against Beau, but in the end, it only makes it worse. I genuinely believe he likes it when I fight back just so he can torture me more.

I put my earbuds in my ears and head to the cafeteria to grab a salad before heading to my empty classroom, where I’ll spend the next thirty minutes eating my salad and listening to music. I am that weird kid who keeps to themselves. High school was supposed to be the best part of my school years. I remember being so excited to be entering high school. Now, I count the days until I graduate.

As of right now, I’m on a good path to graduating early. I guess I’ll see what my senior year brings once I no longer have somebody to torture me daily. Sometimes, I wonder what it would have been like had I gotten the help I needed after my father’s death. My mom only seemed to care about herself, not worrying about whether her only child was handling their father’s death okay. I’d like to think I would have been somewhat happy in school. I’d still have Liv, anyway.

The bell rings, indicating the end of the lunch hour. I toss the empty salad container in the garbage can to head for my next class. It’s the only class I look forward to because I can be myself and create anything that comes to mind. Art isn’t for everyone, I get that, but for me, it’s a way to express myself, and Miss Miller gets that.

I reach for the doorknob, only it doesn’t turn. “What the fuck?” I try again and again, but it doesn’t budge.

I chose this room because it’s on the third floor of the building, and nobody is ever up here in the afternoons, not until the last period anyway. I bang on the door and call for help, hoping someone will hear me. When I glance out the small window, I see Ashlyn standing across the hall, staring right at me, a devious grin across her lips.

“Let me the fuck out of here, Ashlyn! This isn’t fucking funny!” I glare at her through the window.

She pushes away from the wall and walks away.

Cursing, I pull my phone out and start to call the office, but my phone dies. “Shit, I knew I should have charged it last night. I shouldn’t have listened to my music,” I tell myself out loud.

“UGH!!” I scream, kicking the door before leaning against it and sliding to the floor. “Only a few more months, Ryan. Then Beau and that bitch will be graduated, and you never have to deal with them again,” I say and close my eyes. I might as well take a little nap while I wait to be let out.

"Have you missed me, Ry-Ry?" His voice is low in my ear, making me jump back and flatten myself against my locker. "Awe, did I scare you? My bad."

Things have been quiet since my lockdown in the classroom last week. Even Ashlyn hasn't bothered me, but now, on this dreary Monday morning,he'sback, and it seems like he's ready to jump right into it. I glare at him before returning to my locker.

"I'm not in the mood for your shit, Beau." I grab my first-period book from my locker, but he's not having it.

Grabbing it from my hand, he holds it behind his back. "That's too bad because you're going to listen to what I have to say."

"Give me my book back, Beau…now!" I say with my jaw clenched.

"Are you getting cocky with me Ry-Ry?" he asks, his brows raised as he pushes into me with his hard chest until my back is pressed against the lockers. When I don't answer him, his mouth kicks up on one side. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"What is it you want, Beau?" I give up and ask in resignation.

He stares into my eyes momentarily like he's trying to form his next words. He looks a bit vulnerable as he struggles with what he wants to say, but it doesn't last long, and his face hardens once again. "Last week…at your house. Don't look too much into it. I don't want your nasty ass. All I meant is that if I wanted it, I'd have it. You would be all over me if I gave you the time of day."

I scoff, "Yeah, okay. I promise you that I wasn't sweating over it. I had actually forgotten all about it."

My response doesn't appease him at all. In fact, it's almost as if it only angered him more. "Whatever, Ry-Ry. Keep telling yourself that." He steps away, and his eyes peruse my body before they meet mine again. Shoving my book into my chest, he sneers, "Stay off the drugs, Ryan. Otherwise, you may find yourself in a situation you can't escape."

Beau turns and walks away, leaving me standing here stupefied.What the hell was that all about? I think to myself. And that warning was a bit creepy sounding, even coming from him. Was that a threat? Is he going to do something? I quickly laugh to myself and dismiss that notion. It's only one of his tactics while trying to scare me. Closing my locker, I rush off to my first class.

I pull into my driveway and find a shiny black, very expensive-looking car parked where I usually park. I'm assuming it's Bain, and if that's the case, I'll park behind my mother. I doubt I will be here long enough to block her in. Don't get me wrong, Bain is a nice guy, but I want to puke when they are all lovey-dovey right in front of me.

My mother knows I'm not happy with the upcoming nuptials, and that I'm not happy she's marrying so soon, but it doesn't stop her from bringing him here into my father's home. I know, I know,Ryan, you need to get over it. I try, but I can't…not yet anyway. Sighing, I grab my bag and toss it over my shoulder as I get out of the car. Maybe I can go straight upstairs without them noticing I'm even home.

Yep, that's not going to happen. Not when they are standing by the front door getting ready to leave. "Oh Ryan, good, you're home." My mother smiles as though we have a fabulous relationship. "Bain has asked me to go with him on his business trip."

I glance down and notice her two suitcases. Cocking a brow, I study her. "He just asked you, and you're already packed?"

"Oh, well, of course not. He asked me last week…"