Page 27 of Bullied By The Bad Boy

With that, she races to her class in her stilettos like they are flat boots. Daniel halts beside me. I shake my head and slam the door shut after taking out my bag. Do I tell Maria what Ben told me? No. Not yet. Ben has no evidence to back it up, and he might be lying. Daniel wouldn’t let such happen. Right? Too bad I can’t confidently answer that.

“Nope,” I say without looking up at Daniel. I am tall, but the giant is taller. “If she’s not talking to you, I’m not talking to you. It’s what the rulebook says. Sorry.”

I try to get past Daniel, but he cages me between him and the door. Unlike when Ben did this, I feel nothing but a slight annoyance toward him. He cheated on her. Not exactly, but it’s unfair. The coldness of the metal seeps into my skin, but I don’t give Daniel the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. He can handle a little silent treatment from his only female friends in the entire school.

“At least hear me out,” he whines.

“Nope.”

He groans. I raise my eyes to his and frown at his pouty lips and sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes.Nope, it’s not working on me.“If Maria won’t talk to me, you should at least hear me out. Tessa!”

“Daniel!” He grabs my shoulders, and his fingers dig into my skin hard enough to stop me from escaping but not so hard it will leave a bruise. His eyes narrow for a second, and he bats those unnecessarily long lashes. I imagine Maria drooling if he does this in her presence, and my lips almost curl in a smile. “Why did you do it? You did something stupid at that party, didn’t you?”

He releases me to shove his hands into his pockets. I frown at his peculiar choice of outfit today. He is wearing the school’s team sweatshirt with the number 54 and their mantra written in front. Daniel doesn’t play soccer. He doesn’t get involved in school activities. I don’t get him.

Some students walk past us, reminding me I need to be seated in class. No one gives our position a second glance. I push away from the locker and swat the stray hairs flying into my eyes behind my ear. I miss the clip I gave Asher. That clip might be old, but it always saves the day.

“Did you do something stupid at the party?” I ask the quiet giant in front of me.

Daniel sighs. This cannot be good. “Look. I’m going to go, okay?”

What is happening? I can’t get a word past the lump growing in my throat. He needs to step up and confess whatever he did wrong to Maria. Fuck Ben, but I will not be put in that position.

“Yeah. See you at lunch?” I say. “Maria will be there.”

Already walking in the direction Maria left, he nods. “Sure. Later.”

I stare at his racing figure and shake my head. Maria will never date him if it turns out to be true. She will hate me if she finds out I knew. But who will tell her, Ben? He has no reason to spite her. A tap on my shoulder forces my head up. Speaking of the devil, Ben glares daggers at me, his brows drawn so tight over blue eyes boring into me. I can’t help thinking he knows I was the Tessa Asher referred to. I force a tiny fake smile to my lips, but it ends up as a grimace.

“Hi,” I mutter. My voice comes out shaky, and I clear my throat. I wave a hand in his face. “Hi. Ever heard of personal space?”

His warm breath on my face slightly disconcerts me. I poke his rigid shoulder. Ben doesn’t move. Instead, he arches a bushy brow and slaps my finger off him.

“Don’t.”

I’m not sure what he means. He’s the one in my way. “Sorry,” I hear myself saying, proud my voice doesn’t betray me. Pushing past him is futile. The boy is made of steel. From the corner of my eyes, I note the empty hallway, and that lends me courage to say, “Excuse me, I need to get to class.”

“Right. Class.” He takes a step back to retrieve a familiar object from his pocket. Goosebumps break out on my arms when he yanks my wrist to place my hair clip on my palm. My eyes fleet to his face, and his tongue runs over his naturally pink lip. “I believe this is yours, Miss Mower.”

“Tessa.” Closing my hand over the clip, I bite my lower lip. There is no use denying it. “Yes.”

Ben’s fist clenches at his side. “Stay away from my brother.”

The contempt in his voice irritates and pokes me in all the wrong places. I square my shoulders. “Or what?” My only offense was keeping his brother company until his arrogant, irresponsible ass showed up. He should be thankful. I’ve done nothing to him, but all he does is terrorize me in and out of the classroom. The anger in his eyes fuels me to add, “What will you do if I don’t?”

Time slows like I’m in the ring, ready to face a bigger opponent. I blink, and the next moment, I am slammed against the locker. Ben’s fingers dig painfully into my cheeks. Blood roars in my ears, and my cheeks burn from the cruelty of his hands. I don’t miss the callousness of his palms. My breath locks in my throat when his lips near my ear, and my eyes dart to the hallway for help.

It’s fucking empty.

“Not so tough now without your mask, eh?” Malice dances in his eyes while mine burns with hot tears eager to escape. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am a weakling without the mask to give me strength. “Stay away from my brother. Play with your age grade, or I will make your life hell.”

Seconds pass, and his fingers press harder into my skin. I am sure there’s blood because that spot stings. Ben’s dark gaze sweeps over me before resting on my face as if asking if his instruction is clear. I nod. He lets go, and I suck in a sharp breath to ease the burning in my lungs. My eyes sting from holding back my tears. I whimper and sidestep him to escape his evil reach.

Ben chuckles—a sinister sound that taunts me as I wipe the caked blood on my cheek. He will be the reason I start using makeup before I graduate high school. The inside of my cheeks hurts like somebody stabbed me there with needles. I straighten up and ball my hands into fists.

I beat him once; I can do it again. Ben notices my stance. He scoffs and eyes me from head to toe. “Instead of harassing girls, you should focus on being a more responsible big brother.”

An emotion crosses his face. In seconds, he bridges the gap between us. This time, he doesn’t touch me, but he’s close enough for me to notice the tiny scars and cuts littered below his brows. Has he been fighting? I never go to the ring except I have a match. I rehearse in Hayden’s room or mine.

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