Page 17 of Loved By The Bad Boy

“Too bad I deleted the recording. You are not supposed to be here.”

We stare at each other, unflinching. I rub a hand over my forehead and wince. That’s the spot her sneakers hit. Geez, she has become someone else. First, she punches Mira, then attacks me with a shoe.

Gracie’s eyes soften. She says nothing as she covers the distance to pick up her sneaker. Slipping it on, she asks, “Does it hurt?” I stare in confusion, and she whispers, “Your face. It’s kind of red.”

It only hurts when I touch it, but I feel a swelling. This Gracie is not to be messed with.

“No, it’s fine,” I answer. Squinting at the spot, she nods. “Thanks for asking.”

That counts for something, yeah? Her head lowers, and she draws a circle on the tiled floors.

“You should leave.”

“Yeah,” I reply, but her head stays down.

I leave the bathroom and almost bump into a girl. She stares at me, then back at the door I exited, and frowns. I skip to the boys’ bathroom to collect my thoughts, but I let my guard down as soon as I realize I’m alone. My breath rushes out of my lungs. I pace the bathroom until my legs ache. Fuck. I came off too strong. I should have been on my knees, begging her for a second chance.

What was I thinking? I wrench the door open and return to the cafeteria.

Two things have changed.

Gracie’s countenance and sitting position. She’s on Calum’s left, closer to the wall. That means I have to sit on his right or beside Imani. When does this stupid break end? Calum slides an arm around Gracie’s shoulders, and his lips draw too close to her ear as I approach the bench. Bile rises to my throat, and that nauseous feeling worsens when she laughs and smacks him on his chest. They might as well kiss and make out on the table to make their point. We get it already.

Anger pumps through me, and I quicken my steps. The table quietens when I sag onto the bench.

“I take it the conversation didn’t go so well…” Mira trails off. Her eyes widen, and her mouth shapes into an O like someone frozen in a spot. “Oh my God, Ben. Look at your face. Did she punch you? I told you not to call her Theresa. Did you call her Theresa? Boys never ever listen.”

Is it that bad? I touch the heel of my palm to the spot and withdraw sharply. It stings. Imani slides me her soda, and I place it against my forehead. Gracie says nothing, but I sense her worry.

“She didn’t punch me. I hit my head on the door,” I grumble.

Calum snorts. “What are you? A kid who runs into doors.”

The most he gets from me is a ghost of a smile. Imani and Mira share a glance, then Mira points to me. “Do you two know each other?” Gracie shrugs. I do the same. She drops both elbows on the table and makes what appears to be a pleading face. “Come on, tell us. The suspense is killing me.”

Miss Jota would have liked her.

“Do you want to join our band?” Imani asks, just like that.

“How?” I reply.

“We were discussing the band before both of you stormed off.”

“I didn’t ask him to follow me,” Gracie mumbles. I ignore her.

“What aboutthisband?” I ask to redirect the conversation back to me.

Calum steals a fry from Gracie’s plate, and anger flies through me. What the fuck is his problem? That’s my thing, not his. Gracie seems to think the same. Without looking at me, she shrugs.

I fucking hate this.

“I don’t have any skills fit for a band,” I finally answer Imani. She pushes her tray forward, and I accept the uneaten burger with a tiny smile. I feel a pair of eyes on me, but they disappear when I raise my head. I take a big bite of my burger, lettuce falling out as I say, “What about the band?”

A belch escapes me as I gulp down my new soda. Calum mutters, “Pig.”

Gracie would have smacked my head for eating like a barbarian. But she does something better by nudging Calum with her knee. He doesn’t apologize. She hugs herself, and I choose to believe she did that because she couldn’t give me a real hug. I miss our hugs too, maybe more than her.

“We need more help with the band,” Imani continues.

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