Rebel: Enemies to Lovers Bully Romance

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Rebel: Enemies to Lovers Bully Romance Page 9

by Savannah Rose


  How do you miss such a dramatic change in personality? What is the school’s counsellor even being paid to do? Clearly something serious happened between last year and the year before. Which makes sense because he started to change around that time.

  My eyes are drawn to a note that includes his name under someone else’s picture.

  Who is Odane “Bubba” Rowe? Why do I feel like I’ve never seen this person before? Is he even a student at this school? I guess there are people in this school who would wonder the same thing about me. I’m not exactly Miss Popularity. I’ve never been invited to an off grounds party. In fact, if it weren’t for Erika, I’d same I’m pretty much the biggest loner in the world.

  From the look of things, Odane might be the only one who knows how to help me find Kace.

  I quickly read through his details too. Odane “Bubba” Rowe, an aspiring pharmacist, with Bob Marley as his biggest influence, best known for always hanging around with Kace.

  I rush to Ms. Freckleton’s desk and ask if I can borrow the yearbook and she signs it out and sends me on my way. Equipped with this new information, I feel a new surge of hope welling up inside me. Mr. Kasinga is finishing up when I arrive, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

  “Where’d you go?” Erika whispers to me when I sit. “You were gone a while.”

  I show her the yearbook and she’s confused, but I promise to explain everything to her once we’re done with this class.

  Okay, what do I do after I find Bubba?

  I pick up my pen and start making notes. I’m not sure why approaching Kace requires so much strategy and I’m even more unsure as to why I’m the one volunteering to be drafted.

  The bell goes off and I’m out the door in record time with Erika following close behind.

  “Janey, wait up,” Erika calls after me as I make my way to the cafeteria.

  “What’s the rush?”

  I spin around and hold the magazine up to her face and she adjusts her glasses to get a better look.

  “Do you know this guy?” I ask and she shakes her head.

  “Who is he?”

  “A potential source of information,” I respond, picking up the pace again.

  Erika groans as she quickens her steps to keep up with me.

  “Is it okay if I sit out this manhunt? I’m not feeling up to cardio today.”

  “Sure, sure.” I barely glance behind me as I push open the double doors and scan the room.

  I walk up to Rose, our head cafeteria supervisor and ask her if she knows this Bubba person and she frowns then shakes her head.

  That’s very strange, aren’t these people supposed to know everybody?

  From the front of the cafeteria, I watch as the room fills up and for the first time I actually see the student body as individuals and not as a conglomerate of my peers. We’re all so different. It’s amazing that they can’t seem to tell us apart.

  When the jocks roll in and sit at their tables I walk over to them. Kace was once the captain of the junior basketball team. Maybe one of these guys knows who this Bubba person is.

  “Excuse me,” I tap on Trevon’s shoulder. He turns around with a ‘You lost?’ look on his face. Like I said, I’ve never exactly been Miss. Popular.

  “Hi,” I mumble, but his expression doesn’t change.

  Clearing my throat, I pull on a bit more courage than the last time. “I’m looking for Bubba.”

  “Who?” he asks, with a puzzled expression.

  I produce the yearbook and he glances down at the picture then back at me.

  “Aren’t you a little bit too innocent to be looking for Bubba?” He smirks, running his hand up my leg.

  I swat it away and step back.

  Jerk.

  “Do you know where I can find him?” I ask with even more boldness in my voice.

  He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stares at me from my feet, slowly up towards my head, making me increasingly uncomfortable. When he realizes the effect he’s having on me, he smirks as though proud of himself for demonstrating such crude behavior.

  I roll my eyes and start to walk away when I bump into another tall ominous looking guy, accidentally knocking a book out of his hand. It falls with a thud and opens up at my feet. Instinctively, I bend to pick it up and so does he. His fingers cover mine as I reach for it and for a moment, I feel a surge of something wild and dangerous rush through me.

  I stare down at his combat boots then slowly lift my head, taking in the rest of his Men In Black outfit before finally seeing his face. He has dark hair and pitch black eyes that almost look purple. There’s something captivating about them...about him.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, trying to keep my nervousness in check.

  “Hmm,” he grunts, without opening his mouth, assessing me intensely. It’s not the same once over I just got from Trevon, this is different. I feel like I’m under a microscope or on a menu. Like I’m being inspected for a purchase or for disposal.

  I look away from his captivating eyes and glance back at the book in a delayed response to something that caught my eye the second it fell. There, written on the exposed page are the words, Kace D’C, Cain D’C, Gabriel D’C, Joshua D’C, Rick D’C, Abigail D’C, Bethany D’C.

  Is this Bubba? He doesn’t really look like the same person, but still, people change. It’s evident in how differently I look now from that picture in the yearbook.

  I pick up the book and stand to my feet with his help.

  “Thanks,” I blush, but not really in a good way. He tilts his head, still staring at me and I hand him his book. He takes it without breaking eye contact.

  “Are you Bubba?” I ask and he raises an eyebrow as though I’ve just asked the world’s most interesting question.

  “No sweetheart. I’m not Bubba.”

  His voice is deep and smooth like warm, dark chocolate. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that it’s soothing. Ignoring what my spidey senses are trying to say to me, I move a stray hair from my face.

  “Do you know him?” I ask, increasingly hopeful. His jaw flexes as he decides whether or not to help me out.

  “Why do you want to find Bubba?” His tone is measured, and his face gives nothing away.

  Not this again. Can’t people in this school just lay off the judgment today?

  “I just need to ask him something,” I confess and for a moment I consider asking him instead. I mean, he’s got Kace’s name written in his book so at the very least he knows who he is, maybe he’ll know how to reach him.

  I’m about to ask when he speaks up. “The friend of my enemy is no friend of mine, little pet.”

  What on earth is he talking about? Whose friend? Whose enemy? Pet? Excuse me?

  This is going nowhere quickly and I’m starting to feel uneasy.

  “Okay thank you,” I mumble, and turn to walk away, but he stops me.

  “Are you looking for Bubba, or are you looking for Kace?”

  What? Who is this guy? And why the hell are there so many people in this school I don’t know?

  I’m too shocked by his question to answer. He nods and quirks a brow up at me, as though my lack of a reply has given him just the answer he’s looking for.

  “Word of advice, sweet pea. Stay away from him.”

  “Kace or Bubba?” I ask, finally finding my voice.

  “Yes,” he responds as though that makes any sense at all.

  I turn to walk away, but then think better of it. Stopping in my tracks, I spin around so that I’m facing him once again. “Who are you?” I ask and he feigns offence.

  For the first time since bumping into him, I realize that we’re not standing alone. Two other guys having inched closer behind him like bodyguards. He extends his hand and I politely take it and watch in awe as he raises my hand to his lips.

  “Lucas,” he smiles, and my eyes are drawn to his lips and a shiver fans out across my chest, down into my arms and around my back.

  Lucas.

>   “I’ll see you around, Janey Bradshaw.” He smirks at me before walking away.

  I can still feel his lips on my skin, but not in a good way. The entire exchange has goosebumps clawing at my skin.

  How the hell does he even know my name?

  How do I not know who he is?

  Seriously, how are there so many kids here that I don’t know and why do they all seem to know Kace?

  I watch Lucas take his seat and make a note in his book before I head for the door. The hallway is almost completely empty as I step into it. I’m about to head for the main exit when a movement in a nearby stairwell catches my eye.

  I turn to look and spot the outline of a person quickly heading up the steps. Without thinking, I start to follow. By the time I bend the first flight of steps the figure is gone, but I continue, picking up speed as I do so, trying to catch up. My dress swishes against my thighs as I make my way up and I’m almost at the top when I feel firm hands grab me by the shoulder and push me up against the wall. Instinctively, I squeeze my eyes shut from the impact, bracing for further hostility but it doesn’t come. I slowly open my eyes and find myself staring into a pair of overly familiar green eyes.

  “Kace?” I smile, relieved to see him.

  In true Kace fashion, he doesn’t smile back at me and I can feel my heart quickly sinking. Right. The last time we saw each other I basically told him he lived in a sewer and then he proceded to slash my car tires.

  “I’m sorry-”

  “Why were you talking to Lucas just now?” His voice is clipped and sharp. Under his gaze, I feel like nothing more than a little kid shaking at the thought of getting a scolding.

  “I was trying to find you,” I mutter, biting on my bottom lip.

  Why does he make me feel like a misbehaving toddler?

  He grabs my wrists and continues up the stairs, hauling me behind him. I have to stretch two steps at a time to keep myself from falling, but he doesn’t seem to care. When we stop walking, we’re on the roof and I’m out of breath. I scan the are quickly and again, I’m stomped to find just how expansive the rooftop of our school is. And that the door leading to it is actually open.

  There’s nothing particularly special about up here, but I can imagine it being the perfect place to escape. Sort of like my studio. This is Kace’s studio, I can tell, and suddenly I get the feeling that I shouldn’t be up here. Not just because it’s against the rules, but because I know how I am with my safe space.

  I turn to leave, but Kace grabs me by the elbow.

  “Why were you trying to find me?” He asks the question with less hostility in his voice.

  “You slashed my tires.”

  A small smile darts across his lips, but vanishes so quickly that I might have imagined it.

  “Anyways,” I continue. “That’s not really important. I… You know what…I think I should go. I shouldn’t be up here.” The words come out in a whisper and Kace scoffs at me.

  “You claim to be looking for me and now that you’ve found me you have nothing to say because you don’t want to break the rules? Typical Janey Bradshaw.”

  “You know what, Kace? I’m sick of you and your judgment. Sure! I was wrong about you. Sure, there’s a lot about you that I don’t know, but do you see me making that an issue? No. The only person here making anything an issue is you. Why are you so bent out of shape at the idea of me wanting to help you for no other reason than I know you have the potential to make an exceptional contribution to the world? Why is that such a bad thing and why do you hate me for it?” I snatch my hand out of his and I can tell that he’s surprised at my outburst.

  That makes two of us, if I’m quite honest.

  “And for the record Kace,” my voice is softer this time around, “I wasn’t leaving because I’m afraid of breaking the school’s rules. I was leaving because I know a safe space when I see one and because I know those rules too. You don’t barge into someone’s safe space. You have to be invited in and you’ve made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with me so I shouldn’t be in your space. I’m sorry.” Tears cloud my eyes as I compare the two safe spaces in my mind. Even when seeking refuge, we’re so very different.

  Inside my bedroom, my father had built me a soundproof music room, complete with a gallery. Something completely unnecessary, simply as a means of allowing me the freedom to play and compose music and paint without disturbing my disapproving mother. It had become much more than a studio to me over the years. It’s the one place on earth where I’m completely myself, without the fear of being judged or the weight of expectations. Inside that room, I’m Janey Bradshaw, a teenager who just wants permission to be.

  “Why were you trying to find me, Janey?” he asks again.

  I suck in a deep breath and hand him the yearbook.

  “I was trying to find Bubba, to see if he could tell me where you are.” His face goes stone cold, but I continue. I explain to him the conversation I had with Mrs. Jordan – leaving out the intrusive bits - and what it would require of him, but I can tell that somewhere along the line, maybe even in the very beginning, I lost him.

  When I’m done talking, the concrete wall on his face has not shifted and I brace myself for his irritated rebuke.

  “Bubba is dead.” The words squeeze past his teeth and my heart falls like glass against the floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces.

  I feel faint and before I know it, I’m on my knees in tears.

  11

  Kace

  I’ve been pissed off for days.

  This entire week has been one fucking shit storm after the other and I just need a damn break.

  We had gone to see Rick...no...Cain had made me go see Rick, which was supposed to be the worst part of my week until we got home and found out the body count from the day of our not so peaceful Peace Treaty meeting.

  Twenty-five people had been killed. It was fucking bizarre. We’d never had such a big number in one go, and there were crews looking to blame us for it. If that wasn’t enough shit for one day, Joshua telling me that Bubba had been in the area and that he got hit in the crossfire really sent things into the gutter.

  Just like that, I went from having one friend to none.

  Shit storm.

  As much as I hate being in this school, I know that it’s the only escape I can turn to that Cain won’t outright disapprove of. He’s been tight on monitoring and surveillance since the madness happened and it’s been getting on my damn nerves.

  It’s weird being back here, knowing that Bubba won’t have our lunchtime joint on hand anymore. Weird not having someone who knows what it’s like to drown and still be alive. Gutting that the greatness in him will never make it into the world. To put it short, I’m gonna fucking miss him. I already do.

  As I walk past the cafeteria and head to the steps, something catches my eye through the glass in the door. I see a small figure circling the room. There’s nothing particularly exceptional about her, except somehow, even without seeing her, I know it’s Janey Bradshaw. For a fleeting moment, I’m relieved to see her. At least that source of annoyance will remain the same. A part of me thinks that maybe I should apologize for the whole tire thing, but honestly, she kinda deserved it. Heck, she deserves a lot more than just that. She deserves everything that will teach her that I’m exactly the kind of person she should stay the hell away from.

  I sigh and feel the ball in my chest where my heart used to be tighten. Janey irks my nerves. She’s intrusive and stubborn…quirky and a very stark reminder of just how bad I have it.

  The longer I stand here and watch, the more my feelings start to change. I go from relieved to annoyed and irritated when Trevon runs his hands up her leg.

  Why the fuck do I even care?

  My brothers practically have bitches for dinner and spit out their bones without ever calling back. Why should I be any different? With the way life is going lately, my days are numbered anyway so I may as well stock up on as many bitches as I can
, right?

  Sure.

  Except, Janey Bradshaw is no bitch, and as I watch her move past Trevor and bump into Lucas my blood runs even hotter. As Lucas kisses the back of her hand, I want to march inside and rip his arm out by the joint and shove it down his damn throat.

  What’s gotten into me today? It’s not like I like Janey or anything like that. She’s annoying and, did I mention invasive? And her heart is too damn golden for her own good. Annoyingly golden.

  When I come back to reality, I can see her heading my way. I bolt for the steps, but I’m sure I hear her coming up behind me.

  Does little Miss. Perfect really think she can scold me?

  The look on her face when she sees me is beyond anything I expect and it’s not a smile I think I deserve. Why is she being so unbelievably stubborn?

  On the roof, I can feel the irritation returning when she mentions that she’s been looking for me. Damn it, Janey, you have no idea the kind of mess you just got yourself into. If she was asking Lucas about me then that almost certainly means that she’s now in his book, which by SKB rules, makes her fair game.

  I really tried with this stubborn fool, but she’s somehow made herself a target anyhow.

  “Why were you trying to find me?” I ask, suddenly too exhausted to fight with her anymore.

  “You know what…I think I should go. I shouldn’t be up here.”

  Seriously? She’s just put herself in harm’s way trying to find me and this is her response?

  She has no idea the kind of trouble she’s in and I’m already growing tired of having to rescue her from her stubborn decisions. She needs to tell me what it is she wanted so I can shoot her down and hopefully get her to accept that getting too close to me will only lead to all sorts of trouble for her.

 

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