Page 79 of Broken By the Bad Boy

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I wake up earlier today, take a few morning selfies, and send them to Ben. He texts back a picture of him with his eyes closed and the caption:looking good for my Gracie. I laugh. We are the perfect fit. After a few more back and forth, I drop my phone on the nightstand and hurry to the kitchen.

It’s valentine’s day, and I am making cookies in heart shapes. I finish one batch and place it in a box with a cute wrapper. My lips curl in a smile as I attach the love letter written in my prettiest handwriting. The note is so silly I can picture Ben laughing his ass off while trying to decode the chemistry hint. I hum a familiar tone as I slide another batch into the oven for Mom. She won’t admit it to me, but she misses Dad a lot. Their midnight calls have grown more frequent.

When the cookies are ready, I arrange them on the counter, so it’s the first thing Mom sees once she walks in. The note I attach is not as silly as Ben’s. Something about loving and thanking her for being her.

I am pumping with excitement as I rush up the stairs to prepare for school. I send my boyfriend a text to let him know I won’t be picking him up today, and he replies with a sad face. It’s our first valentine together. I can’t believe we lasted this long. Not that Ben is a bad boyfriend—he’s the best—but sometimes my fears get the best of me. Our relationship is almost three months old.

A song plays while I get ready. I apply an extra layer of red lipstick on my lips and even do the winged eyeliner. Instead of curling my hair, I leave it flowing down my shoulders and grab the keychain—his gift.

The next few minutes pass in a blur, same as the ride to school. I skip to Ben’s locker to put his gifts, but my steps falter when I near it. Cut-out hearts and customized balloons are already glued to his locker door. Someone brushes past me and stops by his locker to tape a valentine’s day card.

I didn’t get him a card. But we don’t do cards. We do notes and puzzles. I’m about to leave when a hand settles on my shoulder. I look up, and Ben is glaring at his locker with a hint of amusement. Does he like what he sees? There are cards and more gift packs at the foot of his locker.

“Is that you?” I shake my head. Ben pries a card off the door, brows knitting as he reads the content. “I think about the people that are dear and the delights they bring when they are near. You bring me delight.” He glares at me, then back at the card. There’s no name on it. “What the fuck, Gracie?”

“That’s not me,” I shriek.

The poem is too serious. Too unlike us. Who sends poems when they can write something so cheesy that will make him shit himself from laughing too hard? Not me. Ben pinches my nose.

“It better not be,” he says with a laugh.

There is a proud smile on my face when he pops the balloons and gently kicks the gift bags to the next locker. Maybe I am being a jealous girlfriend, but I don’t want other girls gifting my boyfriend anything.

I hold his package above my head, and he raises a brow in inquiry. “This is me.”

Ben grabs it. Without peeking inside, he retrieves a small box from his pocket. My heart pounds when he opens the box and pulls out a bracelet with charms. I flick a finger over a charm. Some are recognizable, but others aren’t. I recognize the house. Vogue logo, a hair clip, and… a cake?

“Is this a cake?” I touch the cake charm to confirm, and he nods. “Why cake?”

A pink hue stains his cheeks. Ben is shy. I should take a picture. “Because you made me a cake on my birthday, remember? Then this,” he says as his fingers brush the house. “Our first kiss was in front of my house.” My smile grows, and he lifts the hair clip. “This was my first gift to you.”

“I love it,” I say. “I love you, Benny.”

Ben’s smile is as big as mine, maybe bigger. He touches the Vogue charm. “And this is from our first photoshoot.” I burst out laughing. It was tough. Asher wouldn’t stop laughing at him, and the timer kept going off. The pictures came out great, but behind the scenes, it was hectic—a precious memory. He clips the bracelet on my empty wrist. “Now, you can carry all our memories wherever you go.”

Without a word, I throw my arms around him and murmur into his chest, “You’re the best.”

“You too, Gracie. Love you.” I take one step back when he opens his locker. There are more cards inside. “How did these get in here?” he says to himself as he sweeps them into his hand.

I follow him to the trashcan at the end of the hallway, and he dumps the cards into it.

At my frown, he says, “What?”

My mouth snaps shut. He threw all the cards without thinking twice. I toss a cautious glance over my shoulder, and the girls watching us look away. They shuffle in various directions as if they weren’t watching. I will also be hurt, but I will never gift my crush if he has a girlfriend.

“You’re throwing them away?” I ask, like the evidence staring at me isn’t enough. “All of them?”

“Yeah. I only want the one from my Gracie.” I giggle again like a little girl. Ben knows the right things to say. We take one step forward, and he stops. “Do you want to hold my phone for a bit?”

“Why?” I collect the phone and tap on the screen, and a giant smile takes over my face. I’m his lockscreen. He made the picture we took on our matching crop day his wallpaper. “Benny.”

“You like?” Unable to speak, I nod. Offering me his hand, he nudges me toward my class. “What did you get me?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Thirty-Eight

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