Page 32 of Bullied By The Bad Boy

The chilly airwelcomes me outside. Octobers in San Francisco aren’t always this cold, but of late, the weather has been deceptive. I couldn’t stand the heat in the morning, and now it’s freezing. On some days, the reverse is the case. I lock my arms around my waist and race to my car. A figure with his head bowed catches my eyes, and I almost stop to inspect it until I am reminded of the evening with Asher. That evening that got me into the clinic.

My stomach groans as if to remind me of the pain, and I continue walking. The figure pushes away from the motorbike to lace his sneakers, and I smile when I realize it is indeed Asher. I don’t call him. Ben must be lurking somewhere, ready to pounce on me again if the bike is there.

Asher might be a cutie, but I will pass today. Sadly, Asher notices me when I’m almost at my car. He screams my name, and I curse under my breath. I turn slowly to wave at him, my eyes darting to the front of the building. The door opens, and an unfamiliar face walks out. I relax slightly as Asher closes the short distance between us. I will only spend a few minutes with him.

“Hey, Tessa. Were you really going to leave without saying hi?” Asher says.

His blue eyes are big, bright, and innocent, nothing like Ben’s, and his hair sticks out in a gelled, spiky mess I ruffle. He scrunches his face and looks up at me. I muster a smile, eyes on the door.

“Of course not,” I lie through my teeth. “I didn’t see you.”

Asher pushes himself on his toes, and his fingertips brush my cheek. “Who did that to your face?”

Your brother. “Some guy,” I say with a shrug.

“Not cool. Does it hurt?” Not as much anymore, but I nod. His lips pucker, and he motions for me to bend. When I do, his thumb grazes the spot. “Sorry. I’ll tell Benny so Benny can beat him up.”

A laugh escapes me. He can’t report the guy to Benny if Benny is the bully. “Where’s Benny?”

Asher draws lazy circles on the floor with his foot. “Inside. He’s talking to the principal.” My lips twitch. I can only hope the purpose of the talk is to switch his detention to a suspension. It’s not okay to hit anyone, especially when you are bigger and there is no one to regulate the fight. Asher’s voice lowers like he wants to tell me a big secret. “Benny was early today. Very early.”

“Nice.” But it is more than nice. A strange but warm feeling settles in my chest. Ben might have gotten upset, but he listened, and Asher’s big smile kind of makes up for the punch. I open the door to grab the chocolate cookies in the glove compartment. “All yours, Champ,” I say, tossing the pack he catches mid-air. Asher giggles so much that I start giggling. “Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t know.” He takes a small bite out of his cookies. I accept the piece he offers me, and we munch silently. I should leave before Ben arrives, but I find myself opening the passenger door for Asher to get in and make himself comfortable. He drops the pack of cookies on the console so I can eat out of it. I cough. My heart melts when he brings out his water bottle and offers it to me. He is the opposite of Ben. “Only Benny calls me Champ. It sounds funny when you say it.”

In reply, I whisper, “I won’t repeat it.” I overheard Ben calling him that the other day.

He shakes his head. “No. I like it. It’s just funny.” He finishes the first round of his cookies and says, “Is this your school? Where were you that day? I wanted to introduce you to Benny.”

That wouldn’t be necessary. I know Benny already, and he introduced me to his fist today.

“Do you know Benny? I call him Benny, like Benny from Dora, the explorer. Benny is the cow.”

Laughter sputters from my lips. I glance at the kid rambling in my car. He is awesome. What better way to humble someone than name him after the cow from a popular kiddies show? Thinking of Ben with a cow head on his body sort of calms me. I don’t care what he will say or do this time when he sees me with his younger brother. Asher taps me. I stop laughing and grin.

Benny, the cow.

“But his name is Ben. Benjamin Carter.” Asher’s legs bounce in the car, and he drums his fingers on the dash. Without looking at me, he continues, “Carter is our last name. Do you know him?”

I open my mouth and close it without getting out a word. Asher’s inquisitive eyes remain on my face, and I manage a tight smile. I left the clinic to avoid an awkward conversation with my best friends, but this seems worse. I’ll pick talking to Maria and Daniel over answering his question.

What was his question again? I clear my throat. “Um. I think I know Benny.”

“Is he your friend?” His eyes widen with anticipation, and his lips press into a close-lipped smile.

“Not really.”

“You should be friends with him, so some guy won’t do that to your face again,” Asher replies. He looks away, and my chest deflates with relief. Children ask too many questions. I take it back. I don’t want a younger brother anymore if he’ll be this inquisitive. “Will you still make the cake?”

My fingers become more attractive. I pop my knuckles, and Asher clears his throat. His eyes are too hopeful. I don’t want to disappoint the kid. “How will you get it? And when’s his birthday?”

“You can bring it to our house,” he answers. “It’s not so far from school.”

I shake my head. I don’t know where they live, and I don’t intend to find out. “No, Champ.”

Asher taps his index finger on the corner of his mouth. His brows wrinkle, and his features contort into what I now understand to be his thinking face. A minute later, his head slowly turns to me, and a sparkle creeps into his eyes. “What about his locker? Can you put it there? As a surprise?”

“No.” The heartbreak on his face has me gulping the rest of my words. His lips pucker into a sad smile, and my heart shrinks when tears spring to his eyes. “I can try. I can put it in his locker.”

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