Page 41 of Broken By the Bad Boy

I don’t want to like him.

“Are you taking the laptop?” Asher asks.

I eye the MacBook on the bed. It’s still in the pack, with a note attached to it. On closer look, I see it’s a note wishing me the best of this new year with love from Mom and Josef. I crumple the note and toss it in the trash can by the door. Asher clicks his tongue when my eyes land on him.

“He’s really not bad, Benny.”

Maybe, but he raised a bad person. My younger brother scoots to the bin and retrieves the paper. On his return, he stretches the note to me. “Take it, Benny. Please.” I shake my head. His eyes narrow, and so do mine. He gives up soon. “Would you be happy if someone wasn’t nice to Dad?”

Those identical eyes bore into mine. I push two fingers into my pocket and sway gently.

“He’s not our dad,” I finally say, aware of how bratty I sound. “I don’t have to be nice to him.”

Asher pouts. “Shame.”

Shame.

I know shame.

I have felt shame.

Pain tears me up from the inside. I look down at my feet as my eyes sting again. His innocence is protected. That’s all I care about. Besides, Dad was a good man. He raised great kids. People will be nice to him.

Asher folds the note with great care and slides it into his pocket. Walking to the closet to dump my laptop, he says, “You still have to try, Benny. He makes Mommy happy. I really like him.”

We exit the room. Josef stops in the middle of his conversation, and Mom sits up when we walk downstairs. I don’t look their way as I hurry to the door. The chill air hits my face, and I inhale greedily. Getting my bike out, I strap the bag to the luggage rack and wait for Asher to join me.

The skies are overcast, nearly as cloudy as my thoughts. I need Gracie to cheer me up with one of her lame insults. I peek at my phone’s screen. Nothing from her. I don’t know if it’s normal or if I am too needy. Must girlfriends text or call their boyfriends all the time? Whatever the case, I miss her. I am not happy.

Me: I love you and I miss you. Leaving today.

Gracie: miss you too.

I scoff. That’s it? My jaw ticks in frustration. Anger builds up inside me. Frigging fuck.

“Let’s go, Benny.” I jump, almost toppling the bike. Asher chuckles. “You were scared.”

“I wasn’t,” I reply.

The boy is so sneaky. Bridging the gap between us, Asher hands me a helmet. I accept it and help fix his. Someone cracks the curtain in the living room open. At first, I see no one, and then I see Josef and my mom. It’s almost laughable. They didn’t come out to spare me the awkwardness. This is way worse, but I appreciate it. It shows that they care even with my attitude.

Asher tugs on the sleeve of my jacket. When he has my full attention, he says, “I love you.”

A smile forms on my lips, and Asher climbs behind me. I start the bike and wave at the window. Mom looks at Josef. They stare at each other with their mouths agape, then wave back at us.

“Love you too, Champ,” I whisper under my breath. He doesn’t strike up a conversation on the ride home. As soon as he is settled in and playing with his phone, I start for Gracie’s house.

Anticipation thrums through my veins as my bike curves into the corner leading to her street. We need to discuss this attitude of hers. I cannot pretend everything is fine when it’s clearly not. She is failing to communicate her feelings. There is no way to tell if I hurt her if she won’t talk to me.

The sound of my bike cuts through the night. I slow down a few yards from her house and walk the remaining distance. Hidden in the shadow of a tree with a full view of her window, I pull out my phone.

Me:You home?

The light in her room comes on, and the urge to see her intensifies. I miss her badly. A silhouette moves to draw the curtains close. My heart thuds faster as she walks away from the window. I didn’t see her face clearly, but I know she looks just as pretty as she did the last time I saw her.

I miss her. I miss her face. I miss her kisses. I miss us. Us from last year.

Gracie: No. What’s up?

---