Page 42 of Broken By the Bad Boy

A soft gasp escapes my lips. I place a hand on my chest and lean on the tree for support. My gaze darts to my girlfriend’s room. The dagger in my heart twists harder when she turns off the light. She lied to me. She has never lied to me. I climb onto my bike with a realization dawning on me.

Gracie doesn’t like me again.

Nineteen

Today isthe first day of school and my first time resuming the new year without Maria.

I pass a look at my face in the rearview mirror. I don’t look so bad. No makeup except a dab of red lipstick. Ben’s clip—the second most colorful item of my outfit—keeps my hair out of my face.

My fingers shake slightly at the thought of Ben. I miss my boyfriend. I touch the butterfly on the clip and a wry smile forms on my lips. I haven’t been the best girlfriend to him. I push those thoughts aside as soon as the image of him and Olivia pops into my mind. Are theyjustfriends?

Drawing courage from within, I step out of my car. Maria would have been here waiting for me if she wasn’t all the way in another state. The parking lot is deserted. Everything is scary without Maria and Ben. Most students, including me, are not so keen on resuming in the second week of January. I switch the plastic water bottle to my other hand and start the climb up the front stairs.

I have walked this place a thousand and one times. It’s fine. Or not.

The door swings open before I touch the handle. I jump back to avoid a hit to my face but end up flat on my butt. My bottle crashes to the floor, my bag slides off my shoulder, and my books spill out.

Great.

With a sigh, I squat to pick up the books slowly getting drenched by the water leaking from my damaged bottle. To think it is a new flask. If this isn’t a sign that the rest of this semester will be awful, I don’t know what else is. I don’t look up at the owner of the legs, but I can easily tell it’s a guy with huge feet. My jaw ticks when he attempts to pick my books off the ground.

“It’s fine,” I grit out, yanking the book from his grip.

Noah raises his hands. I do the best I can to stop from rolling my eyes. I don’t want his trouble this year. Where’s his side piece? Seconds of silence pass, and his hands lower to his knees.

“Sorry,” he mutters, lips in an apologetic smile.

It’s a little too late for that.

And I don’t feel friendly today. I woke up on the right side of the bed, but everything annoys me. Noah jumps to his feet and offers me a hand. I eye it without taking it, my gaze trailing to his face.

Our past conversations flood my mind.

The texts.

The letters.

Noah is Lett.

Lett is Noah.

Why?

We haven’t talked since that text, let alone mention a meeting. The letters don’t make us friends. Maybe it does. But it’s hard to see him as a mommy’s boy or a guy molested by his stepsister. It might have affected his behavior towards girls, but he’s nice to Olivia. Will he be nice to me now?

I liked the anonymousness.

Are we going to mention the letters and texts or pretend he didn’t bully me? Ben was also an ass, but I forgave him. I finish packing the rest of my books that escaped the water. Noah is quiet at my side as we step into the building. The hallway is nearly empty, with some girls gawking at us.

Ben always walks me to my locker, and Noah is not Ben. I can imagine the wheels in their heads spinning out of control as they try to make sense of what’s happening. They will gossip about it later. Maybe I will be on BGC before the end of the day. I hope they use a better picture of me this time. I throw frantic glances at Noah, but he doesn’t take the hint, and my annoyance nears a tipping point when we arrive at my locker.

After shoving books into my locker, I slam the door shut, half-expecting him to be gone, but he leans on the locker close to mine with his arms crossed on his chest. I force myself to breathe deeply. I can try to be friends with him, but not now. Ben was sorry. Noah didn’t even apologize.

“Today is not a good day, Noah.”

Noah shoves his hands into his front pockets. “Not a good day for what? I didn’t come here to fight you, Tessa.” The intensity of my glare doesn’t waver, and my hands ball into fists when he invades my space. Of all the bullshits, he pulls up with this nonsense. “I came here to apologize.”

Can this day get any creepier? Noah wiggles his eyebrows, expectantly awaiting my reply. He is fucking serious. I mimic his stance, my frown fast turning to a scowl that makes him laugh. Why the hell does he keep cackling like an idiot? I am not a clown, and neither do I find this amusing.

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