Bad Guy: Providence Prep High School Book 1

by Allen, Jacob

  “Where the hell are—”

  “Me?”

  I froze. The Medusa had found me.

  Adam snickered as he slowly came around. Even though he hadn’t yet touched me, I could feel my body reacting to him. Electricity flew through my body, a surge that felt like it was going to shut everything down. I hated this guy so much. I hated him!

  He stood before me. With my eyes downcast, I could only see his shins and his sandals. But his muscles, well-defined from basketball, were visible from here. It was unfair that such a jackass had such a nice body—one that had only gotten better with the passing of the school year.

  “What the hell are you going here, Emily?”

  I didn’t answer as I bit my lip. I knew how this would go. The second I said something, anything, Adam would find a way to twist it on me and mock me.

  “I’m sorry, did you go mute this summer?” he said with a laugh. “Did poor Emily lose her tongue? Maybe the cat got it. Or maybe you swallowed it while you swallowed some dude’s load.”

  “It’s an open party, Adam,” I snapped, but I regretted it as soon as I did.

  “Oh?”

  My senses felt heightened. My skin crawled. Goosebumps flared over my body.

  “That it is,” he said. “But see, this is also my house. And house rules include no girls named ‘Emily Zane.’ You knew that, right? Or did you also lose your goddamn mind while you sucked off Joe Blow?”

  Just make it stop. Just stop. Please. I’ll fucking leave now. I’ll get Samantha and Jackie and we’ll leave. Just… please.

  “Get out of my house,” he finally said. “I don’t want you here or at Providence Prep. I’d kick you out of the school if I could. But I sure as hell can kick you out of here.”

  As if demonstrating his power, Adam came as close as possible without touching me. I finally found the courage to look up into his eyes, and for a sliver of a second… I didn’t think I saw hatred. I didn’t think I saw disgust.

  I thought I saw yearning, a search for help.

  But for as quick as I had seen that—something I had probably imagined—Adam snorted in my face, moved past me, and laughed.

  It could have been much worse. At least I’d gotten this in private. At least Adam had spared me the humiliation of public shaming.

  But still.

  What happened to you, Adam? What changed all those years ago?

  2

  Adam

  Thirteen Years Ago

  “Mommy, what’s happening?”

  Between my mother and my father, a horde of nurses stood. My father lay on the hospital bed. The doctors said he was very sick and might not “make it.” I didn’t know what that meant.

  My mother was ignoring me and my younger brother, seated by me, as a long, loud beeping sound filled the air.

  “Mommy!”

  But my mother continued to have her back turned to us. She had her head in her hands, her body was shaking, and she was saying something to my father.

  “Mommy!”

  But still no answer. The noise continued, and the doctors and nurses stepped back.

  “We did all that we could, ma’am,” one of the doctors said. “He’s gone.”

  “Gone…” my mother said.

  I was scared. Gone? Gone where? Where did my daddy go? He was right there…

  “Mommy! Mommy!”

  But again, my mother didn’t turn to me. I screamed in frustration. Why wasn’t my mommy paying attention to me?!? It wasn’t fair!

  Suddenly, I felt Grandpa grab me and lift me in the air. I screamed some more, crying out for my mom as I lunged for her. But Grandpa’s arms had me tight, and Grandma grabbed Ryan. No matter how hard I tried to reach for my mommy, she wouldn’t pay attention to me.

  And no matter how much I tried to reach for my father, he couldn’t pay attention to me.

  “It’s OK, Adam,” Grandpa said. “Daddy’s gone to a better place. He’s not in pain anymore. He is healed and in heaven now.”

  “But Mommy—”

  “Mommy needs some time alone right now, bud,” Grandpa said. “Mommy… needs some time to heal.”

  But I needed Mommy. I needed her comfort. I was scared.

  I was alone.

  * * *

  Present Day

  That girl had some fucking nerve showing up to my party.

  Who the fuck did Emily Zane think she was? Didn’t she know how much I hated her? Or was she just that obtuse that she didn’t have any fucking clue that I would continue to push her away until she got the hint?

  For such a smart girl, for such a pretty girl, for such a sweet girl, she could be a pretty big dumbass at times.

  Most of all, I fucking hated how much she affected me. I hated that I could throw a party for over two hundred people, with several dozen hot chicks, many of whom I had slept with and a few whom I would with over senior year—my last few conquests waiting to happen—and yet, in a crowd of cheerleaders, dancers, and models, I could spot fucking Emily Zane instantly, as if my eyes were supposed to be drawn to her.

  I just wanted to throw a fucking party without any drama. I got that shit enough when my stepdad was home. I got that shit enough at school, with him watching my every goddamn step. I just wanted to sit on top of the balcony, overlooking my kingdom, sip on some gin and soda, and eventually pick one of my targets to sleep with when I got bored.

  Which is why you throwing an open party for all, right? Knowing she’d show up?

  I ignored the stupid-ass voice in my head. If there was anyone who had incurred my wrath more than Emily Zane, they’d probably already fucking transferred to Arizona or Hawaii. Somewhere as far fucking away as possible from Nashville.

  And yet, the one girl who caused me as much stress and frustration as possible had shown up.

  I stormed past her, ignoring people calling my name and girls asking me to come over for a bit. All of that shit would be there later. I came to the base of the stairs and, to my utter fucking delight, found Kevin and that mixed girl, Jack or whatever the fuck her name was, still talking.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I shouted, deliberately positioning myself between Kevin and the brown-skinned gal.

  “Sorry?” Kevin said, nervously swallowing.

  “You fucking told Emily she could come?”

  Kevin again swallowed. I loved how much power I had over Kevin; though he was bigger than me and could probably win a fight, I knew his weakness. I knew how poor he and his family were. I knew how much he desperately wanted to be a part of the rich and famous. I knew I could dangle him like a fucking puppet.

  It was a delight. Not much made me smile, but that made me laugh.

  “I, uhh…”

  “Speak. Or did you catch the same mute bullshit that Emily has?”

  “I was just talking to Jackie and told her that this party was going down and she promised to come!” he said, begging for forgiveness like a schoolgirl with her clique. “I invited Jackie, not Emily! If I had known, I—”

  “Still would’ve invited Jackie, despite you telling all of us that you don’t like her, in fact you find her ugly and unattractive. Such a great guy, Kevin.”

  Kevin cringed. He looked over my shoulder in a way that suggested Jackie—I hoped that was her name, I was only going by what Kevin said—was still standing there and had heard everything I said. Good. If it kept her and, by extension, Emily away, all the better.

  “You’re such a fucking idiot sometimes, Kevin,” I said.

  “I’m sorry, Adam, I didn’t—”

  “Didn’t what, think that a friend was also going to bring her friends over?” I said with a caustic laugh. “I know, it’s almost like people don’t want to be losers and come by themselves. You can’t be so fucking dense to not notice those three girls always hang out.”

  “I—”

  “Hey!”

  I looked up to see my younger brother standing over the railing. He rolled his eyes when I looked up
to him. The last thing I needed was some 16-year-old telling me what the fuck I needed to do, most especially when that kid was my little brother.

  “Can y’all chill the fuck out?” Ryan said.

  “Can you know your place?” I shouted back.

  Ryan rolled his eyes again. I wasn’t about to deal with this shit from a distance. I brushed by Kevin, walked up the stairs, and followed Ryan to our porch. The third member of our crew, Nick Locke, was playing some mobile games on his phone. I liked Nick; he was quiet, easy to control, and didn’t give much of a shit what we did. He was the one that made sure the trouble we caused didn’t come back to bite us.

  In other words, he was like the perfect guard dog. Simple-minded, and able to protect us from the worst.

  “What’s your fucking problem?” I said to Ryan as he leaned over the balcony.

  “My fucking problem,” Ryan said with a chuckle. “Look down at the party. What do you see?”

  I looked down at the pool to see people drunk, high, and making out. A couple of girls saw me looking at them and flashed me. I’d already fucked them; I wasn’t interested in digging through my recycling bin for more. One of the girls I hadn’t yet hooked up saw me and smiled at me, but when she didn’t extend to me the same courtesy that the other girls had, I turned my attention elsewhere.

  “I see a whole bunch of fucking stupid seventeen and eighteen-year olds,” I said. “I see Nick not interested. I see Kevin coming in because I broke the heart of his love interest—”

  “She’s not my fucking love interest!” Kevin called out, something none of us believed.

  “And I see you trying to tell me how to act.”

  “What I’m trying to tell you,” Ryan said with no concern in his voice. “Is that you are throwing the best party any of these people have been to this summer. You’ve got about two dozen girls you could pick and choose to fuck, many of them who would fuck you simultaneously. You have all these options, and instead, you’re wasting it trying to make the only girl you ever gave a shit about feel bad.”

  “I only gave a shit about her because I was stupid,” I growled. “I’m smarter now, though. I know how she is. I know how all these whores are. If you think I’m going to give a shit about Emily Zane, you’re wrong.”

  “Is that why you still know her full name and can’t even remember anyone else’s first name?”

  I shoved Ryan, who just laughed. Despite being two years younger than me, he had a better build. He wasn’t scared of me.

  I was a better fighter, though. Ryan just didn’t care and would let the fight go however it went. I was a fucking pitbull who wanted to win every fight—no, I wanted to crush every fight.

  “I’m sorry I don’t fucking have amnesia and can’t forget something like that,” I said. “You know damn well you’d remember your only girlfriend’s name when you were young and stupid.”

  “Uh huh,” Ryan said. “I suppose that you also remember how her pussy felt when you lost your virgin—”

  I charged at him, tackling him against the wall. I heard people cheering from downstairs, roaring in approval. Apparently, this little UFC match was about to be free for all guests to see.

  Not that I gave a shit. I drove a knee into Ryan, but he shoved me back, cracked his neck, and came at me with a wicked right hook. I dodged it for the most part, although some of it scrapped the top of my head. I went to tackle him again, but this time, he was better prepared. He sprawled, placing his weight on my neck, dropping me down.

  Before he could mount me, though, I curled up, got back up, and switched positions. I went to deliver the final blow when I felt a firm set of hands pull me back.

  “That’s enough,” Nick said. “You want to kill each other, do it when you’re not trying to show off to the fairer sex.”

  “Fuck you, Nick,” I growled.

  Nick was the only one of us to play football, and he had the strength to hold us down because of it. As much as I tried to resist and land one more punch in on my idiot brother, Nick wouldn’t allow us to do so.

  “Get in line,” Nick said with an eye roll. “Just once, I’d like to think you two can coexist in peace.”

  “When he stops being a bitch, we can,” Ryan said.

  “That goes for you too, asshole,” Nick said.

  Ryan went mute at that, a sly smile forming over his face. I fucking hated that guy, even if I would fight anyone outside of Nick and Kevin who called him an asshole or anything else of that nature.

  “Well, I’m going to go get laid,” Ryan said. “You have fun. Adam. I think you know what you need to do.”

  I gave him the middle finger as Ryan walked off with a laugh, whistling to someone at the bottom of the stairs as he shut the door behind him. I groaned and went to the railing.

  And then, as if proving my point, even amongst the horde of women who were there, many of them now topless entirely, I saw Emily Zane.

  She was talking to some tall girl and some nerdy looking guy. Although, really, it didn’t matter what she was doing; it mattered that she was fucking doing it at my place. At my party. After I had told her to fucking leave.

  I guess some people just never learn.

  I whistled loudly, so loudly that I drew everyone’s attention. The DJ kept playing, but the music wasn’t loud enough to overcome my booming voice. I saw Emily freeze in place, not wanting to face me.

  But I wanted to see her. I wanted to see that blonde hair and those brown eyes. I wanted to see that nervous expression. I wanted to see her all but bow before me, completely at my mercy.

  “Emily Zane!” I roared.

  Everyone at the party turned to her. You should be grateful. Few have as many eyes on them as you do now.

  Slowly, she turned to me. She crossed her arms and scowled at me. I enjoyed this sight—having Emily look at me so intensely. It reminded me of…

  “Did I not tell you to leave?” I shouted. “Or did you also go deaf in addition go going mute?”

  “Adam…” Nick said behind me, but I wasn’t going to stop now.

  Emily’s body was starting to shake. At this point, even though there were probably a hundred people who could hear us, it felt like the only two people here now were me and her. Nick had faded from view; the whores in the pool had disappeared from my tunnel vision; even the DJ in the background had faded, the faint beat of some tunes barely filling my ears.

  “I told you to leave when I saw you,” I said. “So let me tell you to leave now. Let me tell you that no one here wants you. No one here will ever go out with you as long as I have something to say about it. No one here will ever give you a helping hand in school. No one wants you, Emily. No one wants you to be here.”

  Emily bit her lip, trying to avoid crying. I wanted to see those tears. I wanted to see that I still affected her like so. I wanted to see that I had that power over her.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Emily,” I said. “You want me to reveal all of your secrets? You want me to tell the world about the song you wrote from me?”

  Emily’s face grew red. I heard some laughter from the pool.

  “The song that you called ‘The Adam of My Eve?’”

  More laughter came.

  Finally, Emily broke.

  Giving me two middle fingers, she ran out of view, ran back into the house, and, if she had any fucking common sense, she ran far, far away. Hopefully, I’d never see her again.

  Well, besides school, but hopefully, I never saw her outside of that.

  “Dude,” Nick said.

  I turned and looked at him. That was rich, coming from Nick. To have him give me a look like I’d gone too far? Fuck that. We didn’t get to be the Broad Street Boys by just letting people do what they wanted. If we asked for something, we fucking made them do it.

  “Not a fucking word,” I said.

  I sat in my chair as the party picked back up, sans Emily. That felt good. That felt… I still affected her like so. And now, best of all, no one else would have
her. I would be the only one to have touched her.

  Not that I even had sex with her. Best I could tell, she was still a virgin and would now remain so until the end of the school year. And if anyone dared to touch her, they’d be ruined faster than she was.

  And you care about all of this… why?

  Why is she the only one in your life that makes you think about her like so? Why is she the only one that provokes a reaction like so?

  “Shut the fuck up,” I said.

  “Sorry?” Nick said, looking up.

  I groaned. I had talked out loud to myself. Boy, that was a fucking smooth move. That was really fucking stupid.

  “You heard what I said,” I growled with added emphasis.

  At some point, probably around one in the morning, I went down to the pool, found a whore I hadn’t fucked yet, and dragged her back to my room for a quickie. The sex was pretty boring and more of the same—girl excited to sleep with me gave me head, got on top, rode me, and then I went at her doggie style until I came. Sex came too easily and too frequently for me to get anything out of it other than an orgasm worth a couple of seconds.

  When I finished, I kicked her out faster than I’d walked up to her and demanded she fuck me. She was taken aback, but fuck if I cared. Everyone knew the rule. Adam Collins got what he wanted, and he didn’t ask for anything more.

  The only girl to have ever successfully gotten me to violate that rule was Emily Zane. It was why I hated her so.

  It was why, I suspected, I couldn’t stop thinking about the damn girl.

  3

  Emily

  Six Years Ago

  I don’t want to be here.

  Our long flight, which had started in Moscow, laid over in Helsinki, laid over in New York City, and then finally planted us in Nashville had finally come to a close. The whole journey had taken nearly twenty-four hours, and fatigue had set in for me and my parents. But it hadn’t changed my mind about how I felt coming to America.