Page 13 of Hot For Her Bully

How is this my life?

Tears fall as I lie on my bed, dreading the next day. When my alarm rings the following morning, I'm hoping that some natural disaster ravaged the campus. Unfortunately, the sun is shining bright. The chipper air of the morning is like an ominous feeling, creeping over me like a dark cloud. A forecast for the day to come, but I don't imagine it ending as brightly as it started.

A guy known as Dicky Balls skipped out on our date last night. I have no idea what that means to my already tattered reputation. Still, I try to stick to my routine, heading to the cafeteria for breakfast.

There are the normal whispers and people ogling me as I waltz through the room with my head high. My tray is full after I hit up several breakfast stations. A Danish here, scrambled eggs there, and hot chocolate on a day that's warm, but the icy demeanor of everyone around me leaves me feeling like I've been left in the cold.

There's a small table near the elevator bank, like a lonely island for the exiled. However, I don't make it across the center of the room before I hear raucous laughter. One laugh joins the other, and I'm certain it's at my expense. However, I won't turn around. Not a dirty look or anything. If I don't engage, it will stop.

It doesn't stop as Richard calls out to me. "Don't be that way, Shit-ney. You owe me breakfast since you blew me off at dinner."

"I didn't blow you off. I went to the bathroom?—"

"Right, you went to the bathroom for damn near forty minutes. It's funny, you know? The waitress said it sounded like you were getting your back blown out in there. Was that it?"

"N-no," I stammer, my lip trembling as my face tightens from the heat of my shame.

Richard continues to berate me in front of his peers. "I figured it out, everybody. Sugar daddy Harland set me up on some cuckold shit, but couldn't stand the idea I might give Shit-ney the good old Dicky Balls treatment."

More laughter and finger-pointing surround me. I want to crawl away, slither into a hole, and not come out until an apocalyptic event destroys this campus.

Richard's voice carries across the cafeteria. "Yeah, and when he thought some young stud was gonna mate his young piece, he snuck in to grab himself a piece of ass. He could have at least joined us, Shit-ney. We could have talked business, politics, and then uh, we could have split you for dessert."

A resounding murmur of oohs echo around me. Just when I think this couldn't get any worse, a path clears between the crowd. This isn't high school where a teacher or staff member gets to come break it up. There's nothing to break up. We're not fighting. I'm just standing here, taking it.

"I think that's enough, Dick." Weston shoves Richard before standing beside me.

"Oh come on, bro. You're not falling for her bullshit. She's the reason your papers gotta get double-checked and not a single internship will take you seriously. You're a Whitlock for Christ's sake. She's just a Downing who will go down on any teacher or billionaire magnate that can change her grades."

The swiftness of Weston's fist connecting to Richard's jaw shocks everyone. Richard falls back, clasping the lower half of his face with his eyes wide. Weston doesn't stop with one hit. He gives Richard room to stand back up. Squaring his stance, Richard throws a punch that lands against Weston's shoulder as Weston crouches to shield himself.

Weston returns an uppercut and jab combo that connects to Richard's face again. That wakes up the snobby asshole as he puts his hands up and takes a step back.

"Fuck this shit. Neither one of you is worth it," Richard stammers, spitting out blood and wiping his mouth.

"Apologize, shit stain," Weston demands of Richard.

Richard scoffs. "Hell will freeze over before I apologize to either of you."

Weston is quick on his feet, rushing Richard and sweeping a foot behind his legs. Weston doesn't let Richard fall. Instead, Weston forces him to kneel, interlocking his arms under Richard's armpits, and behind Richard's neck.

"You need to apologize to Whitney." Weston smirks at me with a look of adoration in his eyes. He loves chaos, and I hate admitting that I love it, too. Weston presses his knee into Richard's back, pulling the top half of Richard's body back further into the headlock.

The stretching looks painful, and Richard's face scrunches together. He finally hisses out a few words. "Fine. Alright. I'm sorry, Whitney."

"For?" Weston sings.

"For leaving you at dinner to pay the bill," Richard says.

"Hey, let him go," someone from the crowd shouts at Weston.

Weston yanks on Richard, delivering another dose of discomfort. "I'll let him go as soon as he finishes his apology to my girlfriend. Just for everyone's information, she wasn't in that bathroom with any old guy. She was in there with me."

"I'm sorry, Whitney. I didn't mean any of it. You're not screwing Harland," Richard blurts out.

My eyes dart between Richard and Weston. Weston nods to me and I smile for him to let go. Once Weston does, campus security arrives to break it up. Perfect. Now, they show up.

The maniacal grin on Weston's face shouldn't make him attractive, but there's something deviously handsome about the guy standing up for me. He put his own reputation on the line for me. After all the hatred he feels, I finally acknowledge the shift between us.

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