Bad Boys Break Hearts

by Smeltzer, Micalea

  “Eyes up here, Rory.”

  I knew it.

  I meet those gray eyes that always fascinated me so much as a child. “Only my friends call me Rory. You can call me Aurora.”

  His smug ass smirk grows and he crosses muscular arms over his massive chest. He’s built, the kind of body that comes from only eating healthy things, never indulging in even a pizza, and lots of exercise.

  I turn to let myself out, already bringing up Uber on my phone. I’m not looking forward to riding with a stranger in my bra and a short skirt, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

  “See you later then, Princess,” I hear Mascen call from the top of the stairs.

  I shake my head, ignoring the catch in my breath.

  Out of every school in the United States of course I’d choose the one Mascen Wade attends. I haven’t paid enough attention to his name on the online gossip sites or I probably would’ve known it. I wish I would’ve, so I could’ve been prepared. Though, even if I’d known it’s not like I’d have been expecting this encounter.

  None of it matters now anyway. I’ll be attending school with my old friend, who now looks at me like I’m an enemy and there’s nothing else to it. I’ve endured worse. I won’t let this unexpected hiccup ruin my newfound independence.

  * * *

  “Rough night?” Kenna asks when I walk in, sitting up on the couch and tossing her tabloid on the coffee table. She looks surprisingly well-rested and not at all hungover like me.

  “I don’t even remember it,” I grumble, locking the door behind me. “I’m going to shower.” And to brush my teeth ten times.

  I keep replaying my short conversation with Mascen over and over, getting angrier each time, especially over him forcing me to give the shirt back. What kind of dick head asshole does that?

  Him, obviously.

  The look in his eyes—the anger—was nothing like my old friend. I haven’t seen him in a decade, a lot happens in that time, but maybe it’s selfish of me to think I’m the one that should be angry. My whole life imploded and he’s been nothing but spoiled by his rich parents, wanting for nothing. He’s never had to work a day in his life, but he looked at me like I stole something from him.

  “Ugh,” I groan out loud, grabbing clothes from my dresser.

  Locking myself in the bathroom I shower quickly, washing away the smell of the bar and alcohol from my skin. After drying my hair I quickly braid it and change into my shorts, black t-shirt, and black combat boots.

  Stumbling out of the bathroom, I look at Kenna still sitting on the couch.

  “Where’s Li?” I ask.

  “She went to get coffee. We’ll meet her for orientation.”

  “Orientation,” I mutter, silently cursing myself since I’d forgotten. I press a hand to my forehead that’s still throbbing with the residue of last night’s antics. “When do we need to go?”

  “Uh…” She picks up her phone, eyeing it. “We should leave in the next ten minutes.”

  I nod, turning back to the bathroom and grabbing the Ibuprofen bottle. I shake two of the teal colored liquid gels into my palm and swipe water from the fridge, gulping down the pills. I know I need to get something into my stomach so I pop a piece of bread into the toaster and butter it when it’s done.

  “Let’s go,” I say, leaving a trail of crumbs behind me to clean up later as I munch on the toast.

  Kenna hops up from the couch, following me out and down the hall. Instead of taking the elevator I opt for the stairs. Kenna groans about that, but doesn’t stop to wait for it either.

  After having to ask a random student for directions, Kenna and I finally find where we need to go and spot Li waiting outside the building, a coffee cup cradled in her hand as she waves us over.

  Orientation takes forever, and afterwards we’re shuffled off to have pictures taken for student IDs, receiving the laminated cards moments later.

  “I can’t believe classes start in two more days.” Li looks mildly terrified by her own words. It’s Friday now with school starting Monday. I have to agree with her. I think a part of me hasn’t accepted yet that I’m really and truly here. I might need to pinch myself just to check that this is real and not a dream.

  “What did you think you were here for?” Kenna asks, looping her arm through Li’s.

  I do the same with her other arm.

  We met less than twenty-four hours ago, but we’ve clicked easily. It’s more than I could’ve hoped for.

  The three of us stop at a place on campus for breakfast before heading separate ways.

  I spend the day exploring campus, familiarizing myself with the various buildings I’ll need to go to for class.

  I’m on my way back to the dorm when I hear my name yelled at me.

  Pausing, my head swings from side to side, looking for the source.

  I spot Cole’s tall form striding across the sidewalk toward me.

  In no time, thanks to his long legs, he’s standing in front of me. I didn’t realize it last night but the guy is a giant, probably six-foot-six, maybe more.

  “I didn’t see you this morning.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I bite my lip, blushing. “I had to … um … go.”

  “I felt bad I didn’t get to say goodbye.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Again, I’m struck by the unique hue of his amber eyes. “I was having lunch with my friend,” he motions over his shoulder and I see Mascen glaring at us from next to a building, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips, “and saw you.”

  Tucking an errant hair behind my ear that escaped my braid, I squint up at him, the sun blinding me. “Last night was … fun. Well, I don’t actually remember it, but—”

  “That’s the real reason I wanted to see you.” His voice deepens and he touches my arm gently, eyes soft. “I thought you might’ve run out because you were embarrassed or thought something more happened than it did.”

  Heat rushes to my cheeks and I have no doubt I’m bright red.

  Clearing his throat he says, “I just wanted you to know we didn’t have sex. We were both super drunk and I’m not one of those guys to take advantage of that. We made out for a while, but nothing else happened.”

  “Oh, thank God,” I blurt. “Wait, I didn’t mean that like that, just…”

  “I know.” He smiles at me.

  “Cole!” Mascen yells and he looks over his shoulder, holding up a finger to tell him to wait a minute.

  “I hope I see you around again, Rory.” He wets his lips, his eyes sliding over me, not in a skeevy way but one that makes my whole body warm like there’s a flame beneath me.

  “Cole!”

  “I gotta go,” he tells me.

  I stand there, watching him jog across the quad to Mascen. He says something to his friend, but Mascen isn’t looking at him. His eyes are on me, and if looks could kill I’d be six feet under.

  Chapter Six

  Mascen

  The cigarette tastes sour on my lips. I try not to smoke much, and Coach would kill me if he saw, but watching Cole jog over to Rory calls for one. I glare at the white cylinder cradled between my fingers and bring it back up to between my lips, sucking in a lungful of the smoky air.

  Catching Rory, fucking Rory, in the hallway this morning took me by surprise. Or, I guess I should only refer to her as Aurora now since we’re not friends. But we were. Back then she was a scrawny little thing, with twig legs, and a nose too big for her face sprinkled with freckles. But I loved her, well as much as a ten-year-old boy can love someone that’s not family. She was my best friend and then one day she was just gone. It’s not like it’s a secret why she left, I remember my parents sitting me down and telling me what happened, not wanting to keep secrets from me even at my young age, but it still hurt losing her.

  Honestly, over the years I’ve forgotten about her. She became a memory, just someone I used to know. But when my eyes lit on her in the hallway I recognized her instantly, but the shock and awe gave
way quickly to anger, because she was leaving my best friend’s room. It was dumb, childish anger that roared inside me, this primal feeling of I saw her first and it hasn’t dulled since this morning. It also didn’t help when I realized she’s the girl I almost ran over yesterday. I don’t know how I didn’t recognize her then, but I guess I was too lost in my head.

  She’s got fire in her and my dick should not find that nearly so appealing considering she’s done the walk of shame out of Cole’s fucking room. I don’t have many standards, but I won’t do a girl after my friend’s had her. That feels way too up close and personal.

  Her spunk both surprises and amuses me, especially when she stands in front of Cole looking shy and awkward. She sure was neither when she swiped my towel from my waist this morning. My lips threaten to tug into a grin at the memory, but I force them to stay in a straight line. Especially when we came out of the diner and Cole spotted her across the quad, he smacked me on the shoulder and murmured, “That’s the girl.”

  The one he gushed about this morning, telling me how beautiful and sassy she was. Apparently she’s a fucking amazing good kisser too. While he spoke I made non-committal noises in response, my head stuck in the refrigerator so he couldn’t see me making faces.

  After his, that’s the girl, declaration he jogged over to her side and the two began speaking. That’s when the itch for a cigarette grew too strong and I grabbed the fresh pack from my pocket, the one I’d carried for over a week without opening. Today I broke my streak.

  “Cole!” My voice carries across the grassy area, the anger biting. He’s talked to her long enough.

  The asshole holds up a finger telling me to wait. My jaw clenches and I take another drag from my cigarette.

  I narrow my eyes when he takes her phone, grinning at her.

  This isn’t his smug, knows-he-can-get-any-pussy, grin. It’s genuine and that kicks me in the gut. I wasn’t at Harvey’s last night, but clearly whatever happened he really likes her.

  And how can I possibly forget that while I was dead ass asleep Cole was fucking her brains out. Fucking the girl I grew up with. The one who lived next door. The one who ran a lemonade stand with me when I was seven and she was five. The one who meant so much to me then and now…

  “Cole!” I yell again, my teeth grated.

  This time he gets the message and jogs over. I’m not paying attention to him. My eyes stay on Rory—Aurora—my lips snarling as I glare at her.

  I have no explanation for the hate boiling inside me. Yes, I used to know her, but I don’t own her. She can fuck whoever she wants, even my best friend. This feeling has to be just because I’m so surprised to see her, right?

  “What the hell man?” Cole interrupts my thoughts. “Stop trying to cock block me. It was a surprise seeing her here. I wasn’t going to miss my opportunity.”

  I slowly swing my gaze his way. “Since when have you wanted a girl for more than one round?”

  He looks over his shoulder to where Rory is now walking away in the opposite direction. “Since now.” He gives a simple shrug.

  I have to fight the irrational desire to punch my best friend in the face.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? Ten years, that’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen her. She was a little girl then. She’s nothing to me now. Nothing.

  Maybe if I say it enough to myself I’ll start to believe it.

  “Are we going to the gym or not?” I toss the cigarette butt on the ground, watching the smoke curl up before toeing the end of my shoe against it. I watch the ash crumble against the concrete so I don’t have to make eye contact with Cole.

  I’m in a pissy mood—again—and I can’t even explain it to him because I’ll sound psychotic.

  “Yeah, of course.” Cole merely shakes his head, used to my mood swings.

  The two of us head in the direction of the on-campus gym reserved for athletes only. It’s state of the art and usually pretty empty unlike that gym designated for all students.

  Cole and I head to the locker area—each athlete is assigned their own—and switch our clothes.

  Luckily Cole doesn’t ask me to spot him on the bench press, I’d be likely to let him drop the bar on his chest in my current state of mind, and we each head to separate parts of the gym.

  Sticking my air pods in my ears, I crank my music up to drown out what’s playing over the speakers in the room, and hop on the treadmill. A lot of people hate running, but I love it. When I run I don’t think so much, it gives me time to forget about whatever I’m mad about and I usually work up a decent sweat. Plus, working on my endurance helps me with baseball.

  Across the room I see Cole working with the free weights.

  My thoughts want to drift to the idea of him and Rory, especially if he’s serious about liking her, but I chose the treadmill for a reason—to not think about this fucked up situation—so I push the button, going faster than I probably should.

  By the time I get off my body is drenched in sweat. I wave at Cole to get his attention and once I have it I point to the locker room so he knows I’m going to shower.

  Grabbing my soap from the locker I nod at a couple of guys on the football team I hang with time to time. The showers are empty and I pick one, closing the curtain behind me.

  My shower is quick but thorough since I don’t want to smell like B.O. the whole fucking day. Leaning my head back, unbidden thoughts steal inside my head. I picture Rory standing on the quad today wearing those fucking pigtail braids. The image changes to another, one of her bent over my bed naked as I fuck her from behind. Those braids wrapped around my fist.

  I growl as blood rushes to my dick. It grows and thickens.

  Not fucking happening.

  The last thing I want is a hard-on because of Rory Abbott.

  I switch the water over to cold, the sudden jolt in temperature startling all my senses.

  When it doesn’t work fast enough I start naming off some of my dad’s hedgehogs. That’s sure to kill my erection.

  Pokehontas.

  Quill Smith

  Edgar Allen Poke.

  Winston Churchquill.

  Quillie Nelson.

  And my hard-on is successfully gone.

  Chapter Seven

  Rory

  “No, no, no! You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I yell, bouncing around my tiny room and into a pair of jeans.

  It’s the first day of classes and of course my alarm chose today not to go off on time. To say I’m going to be late is the understatement of the century.

  “Shit, fuck!” I curse when my knee slams into the wall during my struggle. I bite my lip from the throbbing pain in my kneecap.

  I button the jeans and zip them up, grabbing the first shirt I get my hands on. It’s a black t-shirt with a frowny face stitched over the left breast. How appropriate. Shoving my feet into my boots, I then gather my un-brushed hair up into a messy bun, push my glasses up my nose, and grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulders.

  Li and Kenna are already gone, and probably assumed I was too.

  I grab a cereal bar so I can eat on the go. There’s not even time to brush my teeth or drink coffee and I’m a monster without any sort of caffeine. I’m already late so I might try to stop at one of the kiosks that dot the lush campus.

  Running down the stairs, I burst out the double doors into the sunshine.

  I keep running, having memorized what building I need to get to, all the while taking massive, unladylike, bites of the breakfast bar.

  I decide to forget the coffee and get some after class since if I hurry I might squeak into the classroom on time.

  My boots pound against the ground and I get more than a few funny looks, but I don’t care. I stopped giving fucks about what people thought of me around the time I turned twelve and realized my mom was never going to snap out of it and the person she’d turned into was there to stay.

  Just as I’m thinking about how much I don’t care what other people think, the
toe of my boot catches on something and I go crashing to the ground, my hands and knees scraping against the concrete. I wince from the burn, fighting tears. All the air flees from my lungs.

  Fuck this day.

  It’s not even eight-thirty in the morning and I’m over it.

  Leaning back on my legs, I bring my hands up, studying the gravel embedded in my skin when a pair of sneakers align with my vision.

  “Do you regularly fall on your knees in front of guys?”

  I look up into the angry, arrogant face of Mascen Wade. He blinks his gray eyes at me. He towers above me even when I’m standing, and now with me on the ground I feel like a tiny ant he could crush beneath his shoe.

  “It’s where you belong, isn’t it? On your knees, legs spread. If you wanted to suck my cock, Princess, all you had to do was ask.” Bending his body in half, he growls in a low gravely tone, “The answer would be no. I don’t do Cole’s sloppy seconds.”

  Anger courses through my body, erasing the sting of pain in my hands and knees. I shoot to my feet, nearly swaying from the sudden movement. I catch the twitch of his hand, moving to steady me, but he quickly pulls it away and it forms a fist at his side.

  “Excuse me?” I hiss, having to tilt my head back to look in his eyes. He’s not as tall as Cole, but at least six-foot-something himself.

  His lips pinch. “Are you hard of hearing? Should I repeat myself?”

  This guy. If anyone said something like he did to me I’d be pissed, but the fact that once upon a time I knew this guy, we were friends as children, sends me straight to flat out livid. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to punch anyone more in my entire life. My hands clench at my sides, digging the gravel further into my palms.

  “No, I don’t need you to repeat yourself.” My tone is mocking, my shoulders nearly up to my ears from anger. “I just can’t believe anyone would say what you did.”