Page 10 of Broken By the Bad Boy

“How are you always so chill?”

Ben blows a breath. “Fake it. Until you grow some balls.” Sparks dance up my arm once his fingertips connect with my skin. I lean into his touch, and a small moan travels out of my lips. Faking it is not as simple as he makes it sound. You have to pretend to feel confident before you can even fake it. “Or you can be mean to everyone, and they will think you are such a badass.”

Only one person comes to mind at that description. Olivia Beckham. She built her reputation on fear and meanness, and it’s working for her. That’s not what I want. What if I end up being mean to the wrong people, like Lett? I should update him about my relationship status. Will I get to meet his girlfriend? Will that be odd? Will it be weird to introduce my boyfriend to my pen pal?

“I don’t want to be mean to anyone,” I murmur.

The light turns yellow, and I tap my fingers on the steering wheel, urging the car in front of mine to hurry. But the car slows for five seconds longer than it should and zooms off right before the light turns red. I groan into the steering. Ben laughs. We have less than twenty minutes to get to school. It won’t be as funny when we have to explain the delay to the principal or my parents.

Ben touches a finger to each of my knuckles. I don’t look his way, but my body reacts to his caress. My clammy fingers close around the wheel. Sometimes, our relationship doesn’t ring true to me, even now that he’s in my car. What if I wake up one day, and it’s all a dream or a prank?

“Then you can own your weaknesses, so no one uses them against you,” Ben murmurs.

What? Oh. Our conversation isn’t over. My jaw lowers to the wheel. I mistakenly hit the horn, and the honk goes off. I jerk back. God, I’m so angsty today. Why? We went to school together on Wednesday and all of last week.

“How do you mean?” I ask.

“They can’t hurt you if it’s your truth,” he says. “A truth you own and throw back at them.”

I turn into the single lane leading to our school and reduce my speed. In school, he will become Ben, the boy everyone loves, but here, he’s Gracie’s Benny. Ben, the cutie. I bring out a part of him no one is privy to, the same with him. And I want a little more time with that part of him.

“Benny, I’m not sure I get it. I mean, I know I have vitiligo. It’s my truth, and if you’re mean about it to me, I think I’ll cry,” I add that part with a laugh to lessen the sincerity of my words.

While I may be confident about other things, my skin makes me too conscious to completely feel badass. Driving into the lot, the familiar anxiety that comes with being here worms its way into my bones. Ben drops his backpack between his legs. His brows pinch together in concentration.

A second later, he grins. “Okay, I’ve got a perfect example.”

Five seconds pass without a word from him. I haul my bag from the backseat and open the door. My eyes drift back to my quiet boyfriend. I stare openly, newly appreciating his handsomeness.

“Take a picture, babe. It will last longer.”

Ben turns his head in time for me to catch his wink. I shake my head, but a smile lifts the corners of my lips. If I had half the size of his ego, I would walk with my shoulders raised.

One foot out of the car, I tell him, “You have a large ego, Benny.”

He blows me a kiss. “Aw, babe. Thanks.”

“That was not a compliment.”

But my words seem to go into one ear and out the other. Ben rounds to my side, pulls me out, and whispers, “You’re welcome. That was an example. I have a giant ego. I know, and I own it.”

“You’re so annoying, I swear,” I murmur.

We fall into step. Ben taps my bag, and I hand it over. Boyfriend duties. Both bags hang off one shoulder, and he loops an arm around mine, drawing me closer to him. He loves touching me.

“You look so pretty when you’re mad.”

The air tickles our faces, and my curls bounce. I push Ben’s hair into place and run my fingers through mine. We are the only students outside, and we quicken our steps in silent agreement.

“I know.”

Ben laughs. “See? You’re catching up. Own it. Can’t hurt you with the label if you’ve owned it.”

His arm lowers to my back as we rush up the stairs. He uses his shoulder to keep the door open for his girlfriend. I squeeze his nose and plant a kiss on the tip, and the rest of his face goes red.

“You almost sounded wise,” I murmur.

The small crowd parts once we walk into the hallway. There are familiar and unfamiliar faces around us, but I’m too enchanted by Ben to care about our new audience. He stops at my locker.

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