Page 53 of Bullied By The Bad Boy

Oh, God.

Dirty thoughts spring up from nowhere. Images of Ben kissing me, forcing my legs apart to put his fingers and tongue where they have no business torments me. I’m a big ball of tomato by the time I find my voice.

“No. None of that,” I murmur.

But I won’t mind death by those lips. Can you die from kissing? What if he touches me and finds out I’m a virgin? Will that turn him off? Honestly, why am I letting these thoughts roam free in my mind? Ben will never kiss me.

I explain the whole encounter to Maria. The glint in her eyes dies as my story progresses, and her frown gradually fades.

“Yep, nobody is kissing anybody.”

“So you didn’t snag the bad boy?” She sounds disappointed. I am too, but only a little. My heart does a funny dance. I shrug it off and put on a brave front. We won’t work out. “Such a big fat shame.”

Whatever! As if he will agree to be with someone like me. He has Olivia. Has she seen the video?

“I didn’t snag anyone.” I am dying to forget this conversation, so I start walking to my class. “I told you he hates me.”

“I doubt it. Ben likes you. I know when a boy likes a girl, and that boy likes you as much as you like him.” Ugh. I don’t like him. She might know a lot about boys, but she is wrong on this one. I have interacted with Ben. I know who he truly is. We stop at the door of her class, and she lets out a sigh. “Watch out for Olivia. The bitch already hates you, don’t give her another reason.”

“Isn’t she like with Noah now?” I saw both of them leaving the janitor’s closet on Friday. The girl acts as if she’s disgusted by the idea of high school dating, but she is forever sneaking in and out of locker rooms, the library, and other secret places with a new guy, yet Ben still hangs out with her. “She doesn’t have to worry. I don’t like herman,” I say, forcing myself to sound nonchalant.

Someone like her is expected to be with guys like Ben and Noah, while I’m stuck with guys like Curt. Maria eyes me, and I draw her in for a hug. I don’t like Ben.

“Bye, Maria. I’ll see you later.”

Once Maria is out of sight, I lean on the wall for support. Her words echo in my head, and fear tightens my belly. If Olivia thinks I like Ben, she will come for me; do something worse than the video of Daniel. I push away from the wall and start for my class. I will worry about that later.

So lost in my thoughts, I miss a step and crash into someone who shoves me to the floor. Pain shoots up my knee. I whimper, and the sound dies down when something cold and pink trickles down my hair and onto my face. It takes me a minute to recover and dab my eyes with my shirt.

This girl will get it from me today. I stagger to my feet, and my anger evaporates.

Olivia’s minions surround her. I can’t take five of them down. She flashes me a smile, and my eyes dart to the empty cup of yogurt in her hand. “Oops. I didn’t see you there,thief.”

Even if she were blind, she would have seen me. The witch pushed me. She stalks forward. On instinct, I take a step back. Her lips turn down in a frown, and her finger shoots out to stop me. I pause, and she bridges the gap. I am so tempted to strangle her with her hair, but she towers over me with her heels. A smile breaks out on her lips as her gaze sweeps over me. I need to change.

Olivia closes in on me like Ben did in the video. Her breath tickles my ear. “Benjamin Carter is mine,” she whispers. Her icy tone sends shivers down my spine. She stands straight and smiles. Stretching an arm behind her for a paper towel, she folds it in half and pushes it into my hand, giving me no option to refuse it. “Be careful, Theresa. Next time, watch where you are going.”

Thirty-Two

“Your shirt is hot,”Blondie tells me.

I smoothen the front of the white shirt I borrowed from Maria. “Um, thanks.” He winks. After Olivia made a mess of my shirt, I had to get a new one, and the only thing my best friend had was a skin-tight top highlighting the shape of my boobs. I don’t need to look hard enough to see the outline of my pink bra, and I know that’s what drew Blondie’s eyes to me. I need to stop calling the poor boy by his hair color. Shouldn’t he be with the set design group? “Where’s Ms. Jota?”

After giving instructions to the set design group, she left without a word. He shrugs. “Dunno.”

Ben is not here. Has he seen the video? How did he react? He must have laughed his heart out. Someone chuckles behind me. I twist my neck to steal a peek at the culprit, and Noah grins at me. I avert my gaze and return my eyes to my script. Just one top, and everyone is interested in me.

What if he was the one who recorded the video? Whitney is missing. She chose set design, and I am glad about that. I don’t need the competition. She and Ms. Jota spent the first few minutes of practice time discussing the designs for the set. Mr. Rizwan also loved her ideas. Cue the eye roll.

The door opens. I don’t look up when someone pulls out a seat from the second row.

“Yo,” Blondie says. “You’re late to the party.”

Party? No party in the script. I throw a glance his way as he exchanges manly handshakes with Ben. They start a discussion about hockey, and I return to reading. My feet drum a sharp rhythm on the floor. I chew my lips, reading one line for the fifth time. We have been here for a while.

A figure sits beside me. From the boots, I can tell the owner. His masculine scent envelops me, and I struggle to breathe properly. I suck in a soft breath when Ben taps me. My head raises, and I swallow the lump in my throat. I need to get a grip. I saw him in class. And he didn’t bug me.

For a while, we are both quiet until his pinky finger brushes my leg. I look up, but his eyes are on the stage. I move my hand to stop him from touching me, but when my finger touches his, I’m frozen. Ben’s gaze rakes me from head to knee. He doesn’t mention my chest like the others, and when his eyes lower to our pinky fingers, which are somewhat interconnected, he smiles at me.

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