Page 10 of Bullied By The Bad Boy

It clicks.

I understand why her gown is tighter and her makeup heavier. I watch my friend fix her eye makeup in a compact mirror. My gaze falls on her chest. She is showing cleavage. She pushes her boobs up and winks. Hater. Small boobs also matter. But on a serious note, she can’t keep this up.

“You can always tell him you like him,” I offer.

“No,” she says. We open our doors simultaneously without getting out. “That’s the guy’s job.”

My lips pull into a tight smile. I will save that line for a future argument. Maria retrieves the mirror to make final touches to her face while I wait patiently for her. This is one reason I hate makeup. It’s time-consuming. She claims it becomes less so with practice, but I don’t believe that girl.

We are out of the car when she gives me a once-over. “Are you wearing makeup?”Oh, God.I slam my door, but she doesn’t take the hint to be quiet. She wiggles her brows, and I plug my fingers into my ear as she screams, “You are wearing makeup. Tessa is putting on makeup.”

My best friend is a tarantula. I’ll put her up on eBay. No, I’ll swap her for another poster of Michelle Waverly.

Without a reply, I dash to the entrance as fast as my banged-up body can manage. Maria bridges the gap in no time, undeterred by her pointed heels. Her arm sneaks around my wrist, dragging me to a stop.

“Tessa, what’s the occasion?”

“None,” I reply. She throws me a cautious look but doesn’t say another word as we climb the front stairs. I push the door open, using my back to support it, and she steps in. “Is he here yet?”

She peeks at her phone. “No.” Daniel might not show up, and that won’t be a surprise. She must have heard my thoughts. “He had better not change his mind. I put so much work into this dress.”

“And you look gorgeous, Maria,” I tell her, but she scowls. “I mean it, pretty girl.”

Maria blushes. I drag her toward our lockers, so she has no chance to think about Daniel. It feels like the first day of resumption all over again. I scan the hallway filled with students. Some are at their lockers, but no one is openly staring at us—at me. I don’t know what I expected, but things are way too calm. I expected the pointed looks. Maybe there are sticky notes on my locker door.

We arrive at our lockers, but there’s nothing on my door. I open the locker. Nothing is inside.

Maria says something about the video I captured after Olivia baptized me with the coke. I tune her out and bring out all the books needed for the next four periods because I don’t want to be out here in this hallway without her. I have Spanish for the first period, while Maria has Greek.

A normal person would jump at the idea of learning her native language with her best friend, but not my Maria. Do people still speak Greek? A hush falls in the hallway. Maria and I exchange a suspicious glance. In synchronization, we look to the door.

Drama always begins at the entrance.

Today’s drama closes in on me. Benjamin Carter. I hug my textbooks to my chest as if they will protect me. The playful Ben I shared a class with is gone, replaced by the version I met in the ring. I take a step back, and my back connects with my locker. He pins me with an arresting gaze. His hot breath fans my face, and I stare wide-eyed at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

What the hell is he doing? His eyes lower to my chest. I follow his gaze to the necklace poking out of my sweatshirt. Our gazes collide, and a knowing glint creeps into his eyes. It can’t be.

Another look at his face confirms my fear.

Ben knows I was at the ring Saturday night.

Eight

The hallway is silent,way too quiet for a noisy school.

Everyone is watching, feasting their eyes on us and waiting to see what Ben will do. As for me, I want to crawl into a hole and disappear. But I can’t move. Ben is so close that I can see the cut on his lips, and the pupils of his blue eyes dilate in irritation. He places both hands on either side of my head and leans in till his nose brushes my ear. Shivers spread down my back. His breath tickles my neck, and I shut my eyes tight to avoid his gaze like it would save me from his wrath.

“Where were you Saturday night?” he asks in a clipped tone doused with anger, oblivious to the scene he is making. His voice is loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. My eyes flutter open.

From my peripheral view, I see a few girls bring out their phones to record. Maria gawks at us, and I can imagine the wheels in her head rolling out of control. It’s not what she thinks. I cast a pleading look at Ben. We can discuss this later, but he doesn’t lose his composure. His brows furrow so much that a wedge appears between them. I pray for a teacher to appear.

“Are you deaf? Where were you?” he barks.

His tone doesn’t sit right with me. I clear my throat. “It’s none of your business, Benjamin.”

As soon as the words leave my lips, Ben punches the space beside my head. A collective gasp echoes through the hallway, the loudest of it coming from me. I steal a glance at the fist still plastered to my locker door, and his eyes narrow to harsh slits. He could have hit me.

“It will be. Very soon,” Ben whispers, and chills rush down my spine. I swallow hard when his mouth parts to repeat his question in a slow, menacing voice. “Where. Were. You. Tee?”

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