Page 90 of Loved By The Bad Boy

I miss Ben.It has been nineteen hours since I last saw him. He left school early yesterday. I must admit, he has been quieter. Maybe the house situation with Josef is stressing him out, but he’s picking me up from Imani’s house this morning. We can figure out what the problem is and, hopefully, tackle it. Imani’s parents didn’t return last night, so we have the house to ourselves.

Imani dumps three cereal boxes in front of us, settling down beside Mira with a grin. I am on the opposite side of the table and very much happy with the position. I rip one open while Mira and Imani handle the other two. It’s wasteful, but we don’t care as we empty the brands in our bowls.

“Who do you think will win prom king?” Imani asks. She and Mira are part of the prom committee.

Her girlfriend shrugs. “Don’t know.”

“Probably Calum,” I say.

Without a hierarchy in Crescent High, deciding a favorite is difficult. Calum seems more popular among the contestants. Plus, he’s single and friendly. They nod in agreement. None of us speaks until we finish eating. Imani is assigned kitchen duties while Mira and I rush up to get our things.

A honk sounds from outside. I move toward the window, but Mira shoos me. Rolling my eyes, I shove my books and other things in my backpack. She cracks the windows open, and light filters in. When she turns with a wide grin, I know my ride to school is here. I don’t feel bad about ditching them. Imani will drive her to school. They can kiss all they want without an audience.

I barely remember hugging Mira or Imani, but I am out of the house in a flash. Ben catches me before I trip, and my legs lock around his waist. Laughing, he tries to steady himself on his feet.

My boyfriend squints up at me. I kiss him twice. On his nose and his lips. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he replies.

Our heads turn to Imani’s house. Both girls stand at the entrance, staring at us like disapproving parents. We wave at them, and they wave back. Ben carries me to the car. Since they are waiting and watching with that scowl, I grudgingly ask him to start the car when what I really want is a kiss.

After one last honk, the car zooms down the street. My lips lift as I take in my boyfriend’s side profile. I offer him my hand, and he laces our fingers over the middle console. He looks relaxed. It must be all in my head. Mom was right about me being too much of an adult to be grounded, but I’ve kept my curfew. Ben is allowed into the house but prefers cooping up in my room. If we are not in my room, we are in his car parked in front of the house. That way, no one is worried about me, and we get to spend as much time as we love together. I still can’t get over the fact Mom cried. Ben thinks she must have realized at that moment that I was no longer her little girl.

“Do you miss your bike?” I ask.

“All the time,” he replies. I wait for him to say more. “But it’s okay. We can’t make out as much on a bike.”

My cheeks heat, and I smack his arm. We haven’t had sex in my room because I’m afraid Mom might walk in, but the backseat has become a favorite for smooching and sometimes a quickie.

“How was it?” I ask. “Did you get the deal?”

Ben spares me a glance. His face lights up like I asked the most important question. “It was not a deal. It was the house. For Josef and my mom.” He honks at the car slowing down in front of us, frowning as he swerves past it. “I went to check it out yesterday. It’s really nice. Want to see?”

“When?”

“Now.”

Ben switches lanes, and I know very well it’s not the same path Imani took when bringing us to her house.

“That’s not the way to school,” I murmur.

“I know.”

I should caution him. Give him a lecture, so he turns back, but I say, “You’re a bad influence.”

His laughter surrounds me in a bubble. I lean on the window and close my eyes. “Did you get my text?” We chatted for most of last night, and he never mentioned Jon’s offer. The only reply Jon got from me was a brief text stating I would need time to think about it. He was okay with that. I am not sure if it means the offer still stands, but I will worry later. Mom is on board if I am. Dad doesn’t care as long as I’m not taking shoots that will make him a topic at work. He loves his current life. “The one about being on the cover of Vogue. Don’t tell me you forgot already?”

“Oh. That one.” His nonchalance earns him a glare from me, and he does an awkward half-shrug. “Yeah, I’m cool with it if you are. It’s your choice, babe. What do you think? Is it a good one?”

“I don’t know.”

Minutes roll by. Ben’s head bobs in rhythm to a beat only he’s privy to. I close my eyes, fingers rapping on my knees. Mom, who has an idea how the industry works, is certain other companies or magazines would love to feature me since I’m the current ‘IT’ thing. And that will encroach on my time with Ben. We already don’t have enough. I don’t want to panic, but I wish he would stay here in New York with me. Staying means saying no to SAS. I can’t ask him to give that up when it was my idea. There’s no win. The thought makes me want to cry, but I push back the tears.

“What are the pros?” he asks.

Buildings blend into each other the further we drive. I’m not familiar with this part of the city. The most important pro is that I get to talk about living with vitiligo. Girls my age, younger and older than me, will know they don’t have to hide it. It would also help when it’s time for acting.

It’s what I tell my boyfriend, and I add, “Plus, a pretty girl like me should show her face to the universe.” His laughter is so abrupt and short. It was a joke to lighten my mood, but I feel worse. My chest tightens, and my throat constricts. I can feel the tears rushing to my eyes. We have only a month together. It’s not enough. “When do you resume? When do you have to travel back?”

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