Page 44 of Broken By the Bad Boy

Disbelief etches on his face. He steps back. “Where were you last night?”

In my room, thinking hard about how to act normal around him today. He said it more than once. He and Olivia are friends. It was just a dinner, and he didn’t think to mention her presence to me.

“Home.”

Ben scoffs. “You told me you weren’t home.”

I did? When? That’s why I don’t tell lies. I forget the lie as soon as it is out of my lips. I roll my shoulders in a casual shrug, not the least apologetic. Ben lied to me first, and now we are even.

With the distance between us, I take my first step away from him. “Guess I lied.”

“Guess you lied?” He pins me with a stare that burns into my skin. I want to confess what I saw to him. I don’t like that we are not on grand terms, but I keep my mouth shut. Since he didn’t tell me about it, why should I bring it up? “I don’t think you want me around you anymore, and I’m not one to stick around where I’m not wanted.” Come again, say what? I gulp. “So, I’ll just go.”

He backs away from me. I wait for his laugh, maybe a smile, to show he is joking. But he takes one step, two steps, widening the gap between us. He is leaving. I pinch myself to certify this is real.

When I find my voice, I yell at him, “Ben.”

But he continues to his class without a backward glance.

Twenty

BEN

I don’t believe Gracie.Either she likes Noah and lied to protect my feelings, or she is tired of us. Last year, she asked a lot of questions about him. I didn’t want to worry. I didn’t think I had a reason to fear because I trusted her. I still do. Maybe I shouldn’t. If she genuinely loves me, she would want me to be happy. Isn’t that our definition of love? How can she claim to have missed me?

My girlfriend has changed. I know it’s not her period. It happened two days after Christmas. It shouldn’t be here so soon already. I press a finger to my temple and set my painting brush down.

This is not even my class.

Olivia drags her stool close to me, nudging me with her elbow as her brush makes soft strokes on the canvas. I tuck a hand under my chin and try to guess a title for the painting. We have been at this for half an hour since we escaped to this place, but it’s barely helping. Since I no longer have sessions with Ms. Ola, I wanted to try something new, and she proposed this. I agreed because the last time we saw was at the restaurant. Mom invited them so they wouldn’t be alone on a new year. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m bored out of my mind already, and I want to talk to Gracie.

I might have been too harsh. I was hoping to talk, but as soon as I saw Noah, I lost my shit.

“So… What do you think?” Olivia asks.

The sky on the canvas is the same as the one outside. But hers is raining. It’s raining blood.

Looking away from the sky, I trail a finger across the edge of the canvas. “Why blood?”

“Dunno,” she replies with a shrug. She knows. She likes sadistic or weird drawings. “You like?”

“It’s pretty.”

Olivia continues painting, adding darker shades of blue to give it a realistic look. I stretch a hand to the painting, and she slaps my forearm. Right. No touching because it ruins it. The sound of her brush meeting the canvas breaks the quiet. Occasionally, she dips it into a cup of water on the stool by her side. The room is empty. No one cares about this place enough except her. She says painting is therapeutic. With everything going on in her life, I understand her need for a release.

When I can’t stand the silence, I push my chair, so I’m leaning on the wall.

“Liv,” I whisper, loud enough for Olivia to hear me. A hand rakes my hair, and some strands fall over my forehead. I pick a dry brush and run it over my arm. My chest grows heavier the longer I wait to ask the question burning my mind. I don’t want to hurt her feelings. She hums without looking away from her painting. “Did you say something to Gracie?”

“Gracie?” Her face scrunches, then her lips break into a smile. I sit up and place my hands on my knees. Those two don’t get along anymore, and it’s a shame. Though Olivia might seem like an awful person, she can also be nice. Most times. “You mean Tessa, right? You call her Gracie?”

She places a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter, but it spills out. Her shoulders tremble. She snorts and holds her chest. I am not ashamed to have a special name for my girlfriend.

“No. I didn’t,” Olivia finally says. Relationships can be great. She might be less snarky if she finds someone who genuinely cares and stops messing around with Noah. I think he likes her, but I won’t be the one to tell her that. If he can fuck, he can confess his feelings to her. My eyes don’t leave hers, and she sets her brush down. “I’m serious. I haven’t spoken to her since you…”

Since I told her to stay away from my girlfriend or lose our friendship. Olivia punches my knees, and I nod. She is not lying. I still don’t get why she would bully Gracie over her vitiligo. Asher has it, and she adores him.

I grip my knees firmly. “If I find out you did, I’ll never speak to you again. Mark my words.”

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