Page 63 of Bad Kind of Love

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Becca

Wes was now officially gone.

He left about an hour ago for South Carolina and I was left alone and bored at home. The lights in my bedroom were off and I found myself staring blankly at the TV’s screen saver. It was a landscape of a mountain covered in snow, it appeared almost too real to be a picture. It was the perfect distraction, anything to help me forget about Mr. Fitz.

Since our night in the pool, my plan to figure him out came to an abrupt end. I tried avoiding him in school, ignoring him in class, but it was nearly impossible. Besides having him as a teacher, I swear every corner I turned, he was there. Was he doing it on purpose? I doubt it. He made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing to do with me, and for the first time, I agreed with him.

Even if his touch was intoxicating, and the pull he had on me was strong, I was swearing off Mr. Fitz for good.

Reaching for my phone, I open the screen and realize I have a notification from the school app I downloaded. It was able to show us our grades and let us know whenever something was added or changed to it. For the past few weeks, I’ve been working on an essay for Mr. Fitz’s class.

Love or tragedy was the topic for the Abelard and Heloise story we read in class. I spent hours upon hours working on the essay, putting my heart and soul into every word I wrote. And I knew once he read it, he’d realize I wasn’t just some dumb girl who knew nothing about love.

I’ve been anxious to see what grade he gave me, and I had high hopes that it was going to be good.

Tapping onto the screen, it opens up the app, and I scroll down till I find the updated grade.

C-

My heart sank.

A fucking C-.

Grasping the phone in a death grip, I chuck it across the room and immediately stand up.

How could he give me a C-? I followed the directions down to a T, and wrote exactly what I fucking thought. And apparently my thoughts were only worth a C-.

Pacing the room, I felt hot with anger. There was no way my paper could be that low of a grade. There had to be only one reason why he did that, and it was personal.

He dislikes me so much that he’d give me a shitty grade.

Dressed in a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top, I reach for a sweatshirt and quickly throw it on over my head. My hair was in a messy bun and I looked like a train wreck, but at this point I didn’t care.

If Mr. Fitz wanted to give me a shitty grade, then he better be ready to explain to me why.

With keys in hand, I charge down the steps until I hear Aunt Claire’s voice from the living room. “Going somewhere?” She peers over her shoulder.

“Uhhh, yah. Wes invited me over.” I lie, stopping at the front door.

“Oh.” She smiles. “Okay, well, have fun. Text me if you’re gonna stay out late.”

“Will do.” I respond before rushing out the door and to my car. Once I start the ignition, I’m flying out of the driveway and speeding towards the Fitzgerald home.

As I gripped the steering wheel, I wasn’t experiencing any nervousness or anxiety. If anything, it was adrenaline. It would be the first time in weeks that I would acknowledge him, and I was more than ready to confront him whether he liked it or not.

Turning into the driveway, I quickly turn off the car. Before I could change my mind about this whole plan, I marched up to the door with one goal in mind. I wasn’t leaving unless it happened. Pounding on the door, I’m surprised when it opens quickly and Mr. Fitz stands there with a look of shock across his hard face.

“Becca?” He lowers his brows in confusion. “What are you doing here?” He peers around me before scaling his eyes down my body.

“A C.” I shout. “A fucking C-.”

My tone must have set him off because in seconds, he was grabbing my wrist and pulling me inside the house.

“Lower your damn voice.” He hisses through his teeth, as he slams the door shut behind us.

Standing beside the wall, I feel the pitter patter of my heart expand and a rush of excitement course through me. His eyes blazed with anger, and at any given minute he was going to pounce.

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