Page 41 of Bullied By The Bad Boy

“Will you read it?” He shakes his head. My insides churn with guilt. “Not even out of curiosity?”

“No. The point of taking the letter is to protect their privacy, right? Reading it is the opposite of that.”

That’s not what happened in my case. Curiosity got the best of me, but I didn’t do it to hurt Lett’s feelings. “It makes sense,” I say. He eyes me like he knows this is more than a random question, but the waitress shows up at the right time, effectively cutting off our talk. “Look, our food is here.”

I dig into the fries first, dipping a stick into the ketchup before pushing it between my burgers. Dad’s face wrinkles, but he doesn’t say a word. He’s the one missing out on this deliciousness.

“How will you know if you like someone?” I ask after the third bite of my burger-fries.

“You will just know,” he says when his pancake drenched in syrup is almost gone. A smile curls his lips. “You will always think about them, just like I think about your mom. All the time.”

That sounds like a waste of mind space or whatever. Good thing I don’t think about him. At all.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he replies with a nod. His smile grows wider, and it nauseates me. I don’t want to like anyone this much. “And when anybody asks you if you like someone, their name automatically pops into your mind, and you smile. What name came to your mind when you asked me that?”

“What?” He set me up.

“Do you like someone?” I choke on my burger. My eyes tear up. He pats my back and passes my drink to me. Yeah, this is a setup. “Is this about a boy, Tessa? Do you like someone from school?”

Ben’s face flashes in my mind. I have no reason to like him. Beyond his good looks, he has no redeeming qualities. Something must be wrong with me if I think I like the guy who punched me.

“No.” His lips curve in a teasing smile, and I cough to clear the nerves in my voice. “I don’t like anyone.”

Twenty-Five

BEN

Fuck.She was there. She is everywhere I go like a damn pest. If that stupid Noah had agreed to come over to the house with his notes, I wouldn’t have been at school. Whenever I think I have succeeded in getting her out of my head, she gives me a new reason to remember her. Did she report to the principal after I left? Good for her if she did. She will have a hard time proving it.

Why did she have to come toDan and Danwith her dad, looking all sad with those brown eyes before they hugged? I wasn’t watching, but it was hard to miss them when they were right in front of the door, blocking possible customers who might have wanted to enter. What if seeing her today is a sign from the universe that I need to apologize? I shrug out of my tank and toss it on the bed. If I am really considering an apology, I need to back the fuck up and examine my head.

The pounding in my temple forces me to the bathroom. I haven’t smoked in weeks, a sign that I don’t need those death sticks. I don’t miss it, but I pull out a pack of Marlboro from the cabinet. I never smoke around Asher. He will chew me up. He’s the only one who can set me straight. But he’s not here now to scold me, and I need a lot of courage if I intend to go over there to get him.

I jump into the shower for a quick bath. Water forms a trail behind me as I step out of the shower to stand in front of the mirror. Images of those girls from school throwing themselves at me during Vance’s party zoom through my mind, but none of them evokes a reaction from me or my dick except her. I hate her. She’s not even that pretty. Well, she’s cute, but that’s beside the point.

She needs to stay out of my business so I never have to hear Asher talk about her again.

He’s obsessed. And that’s something since he barely likes people outside his video games. What if I misunderstood the situation? What if I am indeed injured from last night’s match? Because what are all these thoughts? She threatened me. She took from me. She is just like her namesake.

While my body dries up, I light up a cigarette without smoking it. I know I am stalling, but it’s never easy to face them, and today is Thursday. I don’t get him until Monday. But I miss Asher. It’s empty here without him. I stalk back to my room and throw on the cleanest sweats and wifebeater I find. It’s colder in the evenings, but I need to give her a reason to shout. She notices everything but somehow fails to observe the most important aspects. Parents can be wild.

Outside, I am confronted with the stupidity of my dress choice. I shiver. The second helmet is in my room, but instead of racing inside to get it, I tug this one over my head and start the bike. Asher can use it on our return. I’ll be fine. The cold lashes at me as the bike speeds past cars. If she is in a great mood and I don’t succeed in getting on her nerves, we should be out of there in five.

In exactly fifteen minutes, I reach the house—the mansion. I take off my helmet. The cameras at the top of the black gates rotate to capture my face, and the gates slide open. Rich people’s problem. I drive in and park in the middle of the compound, fully aware there’s a huge garage at the back.

They must have been expecting me. I twist the knob once, and the door gives away. She is alone and watching a movie with a bowl of popcorn on her legs. I don’t greet. I walk past the couch, but she calls me back. “Benjamin.” I stop. It’s her house, after all. “Haven’t you any manners?”

“No,” I reply. I backtrack behind the couch and grip the top. “I left them outside.”

“Good to see you too.”

Her eyes lift to my face. Blues to blues. She hasn’t changed. If at all she did, she looks younger. I straighten up. If that is all, I will be on my way upstairs to get Asher. But for the life of me, I cannot move an inch from there. My nails sink into the top of the couch, and I wait. For what?

No idea.

She sets the bowl on the couch and replaces it with a throw pillow she hugs to her chest. It kind of makes her look sad. But when her mouth opens, my pity flies away. “Where have you been?”

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