Page 52 of Bullied By The Bad Boy

“You’ve got a sharp mouth. Razor sharp,” he mutters. “It will put you in trouble one day.”

Then he walks away like he did nothing.

Thirty-One

It is stupid.I should be prosecuted for this, but I still think of how Ben’s finger felt against my lips. Against my cheek. How his voice softened, and he looked at me like he could see Tessa.

I’m so hopeless and foolish for thinking about kissing the guy who treats me like gum on his shoe. Last night, I had a dream where he asked me out. I press another finger to my lips and trace the Cupid bow like Ben did. Butterflies flutter in my belly at the thought of kissing him on stage. Ms. Jota sneaked in a kiss scene at the end. So, he has to play Romeo, and I’ll be his Juliet. My inner voice mocks my fairy tale, and a soft sigh escapes me. I am getting ahead of myself again.

Maria nudges my shoulder. I snap out of my reverie and try desperately to wipe the smug smile off my face, but it sticks. My best friend wiggles her brows suggestively like she caught me with a hand in the cookie jar. I ignore her the first time. The third time, I throw my hands up. “What?”

She says nothing. I grab my bag from the backseat, but she gives me that look again.

“Maria. Speak now or forever hold your peace.” Her brows only shoot higher, and her smile grows. She does this a lot. And it makes you so antsy you start confessing to unknown crimes. “Fine, don’t say it.”

I wrench the door open and jog to the entrance of our school. Maria calls out to me from behind. I turn sharply and place a hand on my waist. “Are you going to tell me why you were smiling like that?” Within a minute, she covers the gap and throws an arm around my shoulder. We take the stairs two at a time, but she stops me from opening the door. “Maria Vega, what is your problem?”

The drama queen finally opens her mouth to talk. She folds her arms on her chest, her foot raps on the floor, and she levels me her infamous look of disapproval. I didn’t even do anything wrong.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you and Ben are a thing? The letters? Sneaking around? Seriously? You thought I wouldn’t know? This is Broadway Heights, Tessa. Nothing stays hidden for long.” I place the back of my palm on her forehead to be sure she is okay. But she slaps my hand away. “I have evidence, so don’t you dare deny it. Best friends tell each other everything, Tessa.”

Her facade of seriousness doesn’t crack. I push the strap sliding down my shoulder and take a big breath. “Deny what?” Maria scowls like the answer is obvious, but it isn’t. I have not the faintest idea what ‘denial’ she is talking about. Ben and I are a thing? Of all the impossible things, she chose the most outlandish. I reach for the knob of the front door, but she swats my hand. Jesus. I clench the straps of my backpack. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

Mondays are not our favorite days of the week, but we have survived it so far. And we can endure it for the rest of the year. Silence meets my question. I push the door open, take my first step, and wobble back. Staying outside with Maria feels like a better option than this mini crowd.

The hallway is crowded. First red flag. I meander through the students huddled in groups, talking in hush tones. A few subtle glances get thrown my way. Second red flag. Did Ben do something? I steal a look over my shoulder to see Maria glaring at me. I don’t wait to find out what might be bugging her but rush to my locker. The faster I get my books, the sooner I can get to my class and hide.

The last time everyone paid this much attention to me, it didn’t end well.

In front of my locker, I don’t open the door immediately. If the pranks have resumed, I need to be prepared. Maria yanks the door open before I’m ready. But nothing jumps at me. No spiders. I check every nook and cranny. No glitters. No itching powder. No used tampons. Nothing odd.

And that itself is odd. Something is wrong. The whispers along the hallway increase. I catch two students pointing at me, but they look away once I straighten up. I flip through the weekend activities and last week for a hint, but my brain comes up empty. The only attention-worthy thing I did was fight in the ring with my mask. Yes, I won, but no one knew it was me except Ben. But my match was after his. I also went to the supermarket to get the items for his cake since his birthday is on Friday. No one from school saw me, but they are acting strange. As strange as Maria or worse. Does this have to do with Ben? What did that boy do this time? We had a deal.

Did we? It looked like it with how his eyes softened after I mentioned Asher.

“Care to explain this?” Maria shoves her phone into my face, nearly blinding me. She thinks with her ass sometimes, and this is one of those times. I’m yet to see what the fuss is all about when she adds, “You are not crushing on Ben. You two don’t have a thing, but you are kissing him.”

I ignore my crazy best friend and tap the video on the screen. My breath catches when a scene from drama club plays. I pause the video to tell her, “There was no kissing.” She huffs. I might as well have been talking to myself. “Maria, there was no kissing. This happened during practice.”

A dent appears between my brows, and I hit the replay button. The video starts when Ben leans in. Watching it reminds me of the actual event, and my breath grows ragged. In the video, the space between us is inexistent. When he dips his head to whisper into my ears, it looks like he pecked me. The scene where he traced the outline of my lips looks more intimate, something that would not be a problem if we were a real couple. Heat floods my body at that thought. I blush when Maria clears her throat. The video ends with our eyes locked and his fingers under my jaw.

To outsiders, we look like couples about to kiss or do more. But I was about to melt in fear.

Maria snatches her phone from me. I bring out mine and check BGC. They will ruin my life at this rate. Is Whitney in charge of the site? She has to be the one who made the video. The boys were too busy laughing at me to create one. I might have noticed if Ben didn’t trap me with those evil eyes. The comment section of the video is blowing up with mixed comments. My cheeks burn at the caption of the most-voted response, and I cringe at other brash and nasty comments.

Nerd girl snags BH’s famous jock!

Ew. Who captioned this?

First of all, I am not a nerd. I have been to a pub. I have a fake ID, and my best friend is a pretty cheerleader. I am selective about the people I roll with, that’s all. I didn’t snag anybody. Ben was trying to bully me into silence. The second most-voted comment leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

Attention whore. Throwing yourself at the bad boy will get you nowhere.

Throwing myself? How dare they? I did not want to be there. I was trapped. I shove my phone into my backpack and face Maria. I’ll go crazy if I continue reading those comments. Her lips pucker into a frown.

“It is not what it looks like. Look at Ben’s face. He was literally about to kill me. Literally.”

Maria leans on the locker. “With his lips? His fingers? His tongue? Or his sexiness?”

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