Page 8 of Loved By The Bad Boy

We stop in front of a class I hope and pray is the right one. If it isn’t, I’ll rather walk back to the principal’s office than ask him for directions. Blue Eyes stretches his hand to me in a handshake.

I eye his arm without taking it, but he keeps his hand out. “Hi. I’m Calum,” he says.

Thankfully, the hallway is empty, so there is no one to watch this stubborn boy embarrass himself. He would fit right with Olivia’s clique. I muster a practiced smile. “Hi. I don’t care.”

Calum finally drops his hand. “Ah. You’re funny.”

His hands clamp around the straps of his backpack. I grow self-conscious when his eyes do another lazy sweep of my body. I am wearing long sleeves and jeans, and I ditched the makeup.

“Not as funny as I would be with my fist up your ass.”

Calum smirks, and his eyes light up with mischief. I’m certain he will find humor in everything I say. “Funny and violent. Nice combo.” He throws an arm around my shoulders and opens the door. “We will be great friends. Even best friends. I’m a bit of a violent comedian myself.”

He laughs at his own lame joke. This boy doesn’t get the memo. I don’t give a shit about him.

The teacher quits talking the moment we enter, and everyone stops taking notes. Calum doesn’t let go of me. He sticks to my side when the teacher questions us, mostly me, the new student.

“She’s new,” he answers on my behalf again.

The boy is annoying, acting like I can’t speak for myself. I allow him because I don’t feel like talking to anybody. I remember the teacher asking me to introduce myself, but I don’t remember doing the introductions. Given the smile on her face, I must have given the appropriate answers.

“Alright, Tessa.” Dirty blond hair frames her face. Her voice reminds me of Miss Jota. Though she is missing the smile, I hope she is like her or half as kind as she is. “Welcome. I’m Muna.”

Muna turns to the class to give them a speech about treating me well. After that, her gaze returns to my face. Her smile almost makes me smile. She points to the aisle. “Please, have a seat.”

Calum goes ahead of me and stops in the middle row. It has two empty chairs. He sits first and motions for me to sit beside him, but I walk past him to the last row with an empty seat. I smile as I slump into the chair, pushing an elbow out the window. My seat in Broadway Heights was by the window. Calum looks back once when I’m settled and shakes his head. Fuck him. He is sorely mistaken if he thinks we will be friends. Maria is my best friend, the only friend I need.

The class goes surprisingly well. Muna is an okay teacher, but Miss Jota is still my favorite. Will she be mad if she finds out I never applied to SAS? It doesn’t matter now. I am done with San Francisco and its people.

Calum comes over when Muna’s class ends. I push down the groan stuck in my throat. He drags the empty seat close to mine like my glare isn’t enough warning for him to stay away.

“What’s your next class?” he asks. Using his fingers to comb his hair, he tips his neck at an angle that gives the perfect view of his face. Calum is hot. Okay, that thought didn’t come from me. But yeah, he has the looks but lacks the arrogance of hot boys. “Tessa, what’s your next class?”

I arrange the books I never used into my backpack and start for the door. Calum is on my heels like a lost puppy. My next class is calculus. He can’t possibly be in the same class with me. I repeat my new mantra. Why won’t he leave me be? Jesus. I don’t want to be friends with him.

Calum attempts to place his arm on my shoulders like he did earlier, but the glare I shoot in his direction stops him. Monday is still my least favorite day of the week, and he’s worsening it. Hoping my memory from the clip I watched on their website will serve, I turn to the left.

“Are you always this rude?”

I am not rude. But I don’t say that. He is the one who doesn’t understand the words:I don’t care. We stop in front of a class at the same time. God must have something against me because why is this happening? Calum smirks when I groan. He opens the door for me and gives a curt bow.

“My lady,” he says, stepping aside for me to enter. This boy is trouble. I can already feel it.

This class has only two empty seats, and my new, unwanted friend locks a hand around my wrist before I think of escaping. He sits by the window, and I take the one beside him. The other students barely spare me a glance. I like it. If it were BH, there would have been a new article about the new girl circulating on the site. They might have had something to say about my outfit.

Students bring out their phones in the teacher’s absence. I don’t because the only thing I’ll see is missed calls and more missed calls and texts from Maria. She wants to visit. But I don’t want to see her. We have been in New York for a week, and she has no idea what my room looks like.

“I’m curious,” Calum says. Not again. He doesn’t quit. I will not be the nice, naïve, gullible Tessa I was at BH. If I don’t like you, I will not pretend to. He drums his pencil on his desk and flashes me a smile. “Tell me, Tessa, why did you move to my school two months into a new semester?”

The door opens. “Curiosity kills the cat.”

“Na, that’s incorrect.” We focus on the door since no one has entered. For the first time today, I pray for a teacher to walk in and end this. “Besides, cats have nine lives. They will keep coming back.”

I share eye contact with Calum, and he shrugs. He’s right. I’ve been rude. He has done nothing but be nice to me. Pushing an elbow out the window, he says, “It’s okay if you say nothing.”

His voice is so sad I have to say, “My parents were moving. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Leaning back in his seat, he turns to the board when the teacher walks in. “Cool.”

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