Page 74 of Bullied By The Bad Boy

“Then why are you here?” I whisper. “To remind me that we are not friends?”

He shrugs without looking up. “I was waiting for you. I knew you would miss it.” And I did, but how did he know? We are not friends. He made that clear. Why does he care what I do if he can’t be bothered to speak to me in public? I’m tired. “You barely paid attention in Calculus class.”

“Yeah,” I say because it feels like I’m required to speak. I mimic him by running my hands over my knees. His hand angles closer to mine. He stretches his pinky finger as if asking for a silent truce, and I shove my hands into my pockets. I can’t do this with him again. “I was distracted.”

And it’s his fault. His mood swings are worse than a girl on her period, and I don’t want to get caught in his mess. If I get into trouble with Olivia, it has to be for something worth it. And I’m starting to think Ben isn’t.

“Is it because of your friend?” Our eyes meet, and he tilts his head to the side, bringing my gaze to the new cut on his eyebrow. There was a fight last night. I got the summary from Coach. I lick my lips, and Ben’s gaze locks on them. My pulse quickens, and the urge to flee intensifies. “She didn’t talk to you. You didn’t walk her to class like you always do. Then you ignored Daniel.”

He has been watching us—me. Why? Is this another one of those foolish cases of the boy who likes a girl but bullies her because he doesn’t want to like her? It’s stupid, but I read it in a book Maria gave me last year. Even more ludicrous is the girl falling in love with him and having a happily ever after with his kids. I must be stupid, too, because my heart flutters at Ben’s smile.

I squeeze my knees. “Yes. She’s not happy with me.” A pause ensues. “I’m not happy with you.”

This damn mouth. Those words did not come from me. I square my shoulders and wait for his reaction. Ben folds his arms. I hate to say it, but he looks genuinely upset. I hurt his feelings. Good.

“You wound me, Juliet.” It’s the way he says it that makes my cheeks heat up. My lips curl in a shy smile. I have to reprimand and remind myself to behave. “That is not how our love story goes.”

“What love story?” Do we have a future together? Oh. He means Juliet from the play.

“Juliet loves Romeo.”

My head rears back, and my eyes sweep over his upper body. “I thought you didn’t believe in love?”

“I don’t, but in the play, which by the way, doesn’t qualify as romance, Juliet loves Romeo.”

I scoff. My attraction to Ben goes up in flames. “It’s a romantic play, Benjamin.”

“It’s not a romance if they both die at the end, Juliet.”

My jaw slacks. I gape at him. Ben folds his arms on his chest, silently urging me to say otherwise. Not all romance stories end with a picket fence and kids. I want mine to end happily, but that’s not everyone’s lot. Jack from the Titanic is an example. He gave up his life for Rose to live. Epic.

“It’s a romantic tragedy,” I finally say. Ben clicks his tongue. “You should watch the Titanic.”

“You are a sadist.” This boy is unbelievable. He leans toward me, his forehead wrinkling as he mutters, “Why must anyone die? Why must I give up my life for a woman in the name of love?”

“You know nothing,” I tell him.

Spreading out his arms, he smiles at our invisible audience. “Oh, look. I’m a Jon Snow.”

Very funny. “What’s a Jon Snow?” I ask with my straightest face.

That question wipes the smile off Ben’s face. My heart flips triumphantly, and I hold his gaze with a practiced look of confusion. I don’t give myself enough credit for my acting because Ben looks like he just discovered everything he knew as a kid was a lie. His arms drop to his knees.

“You don’t know Jon Snow?” he whispers. I shake my head slowly. If anyone hasn’t heard of that name, it’s because they live under a rock or lack internet access. “Okay. Hold on. Ever heard of Game of Thrones?”

“Is it a game?”

Ben slaps a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from falling over with laughter. I should take a picture to savor this epic moment.

Tessa: 10,000 - Ben: 0

“No, not a game. Forget it.”

A calm settles over us. I’m still riding the high of my mini-victory when Ben touches my knee. It’s so sudden that a cough wracks my body. He pulls me down to his lap, rubbing my back until the cough subsides. His face twists in concern, and two of his fingers slide under my jaw. I am so close I can kiss him. I think I want to.

“Juliet, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” If there’s anything wrong, it’s the little distance between us and my heart pounding in my ears. I smoothen the light creases on my jeans and redirect my gaze to the floor. “Thanks.”

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