Bad Guy: Providence Prep High School Book 1

by Allen, Jacob

  He is a nice guy. Shame. He’s going to make someone happy—assuming he treats everyone the same way.

  Which, if he’s a Broad Street Boy…

  “Shouldn’t you be in the locker room right now?” I said, a question that sounded a lot more accusatory than I had meant.

  “Eh,” Nick said. “In like an hour and a half, maybe. But right now, I just like the library. Quiet place.”

  I smirked.

  “You say as we carry on a conversation.”

  Nick smirked back. It was a nice moment.

  But it was also one that reinforced my lack of interest in him. He would’ve made a wonderful friend if not for his associates, but—

  “Hey, asshole, come here.”

  I looked up to see Adam standing to my left, towering over the table, his arms crossed—with his right hand wrapped up, something I hadn’t seen at kickball—and just a mean expression over his face. The way he looked at Nick and the way Nick looked back at him made me wonder how the Broad Street Boys even remained a group. I knew that three of them actually lived in the group, with Kevin being a sort of honorary member—or, in Adam’s words, “the group bitch”—but how they all liked each other was something well beyond me.

  “Do you mind?” Nick said. “I’m trying to get some work done right now. If I don’t do it now, not gonna get it done during the game or the weekend.”

  “Really? Because it seems to me you’re much more interested in talking to this whore over here.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” I growled, trying my best to maintain some semblance of calm here.

  Adam just smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Haven’t you heard the rumors, Emily? I assume so, after all, since you seemed to have started them.”

  “What fucking rumors?” I growled.

  But I already knew where he was going with this. My mind went back to that first day of school and what happened right at the end of PE class.

  “Seems to me you’re telling people that you wanted to fuck me,” he said with a cackle. People were starting to look at us. To say I was feeling uncomfortable was an understatement. “I, of course, told everyone the truth. I don’t need to fuck you in order to get laid. See, everyone at this school wants me, Emily, and it’s not even bragging. For whatever reason, you don’t want me. Your loss, of course. You, of all people, know how good it is. Yet you chose—”

  I snapped.

  I finally snapped.

  “I don’t know what the fuck is your problem,” I said, standing up suddenly and jabbing a finger in his chest, pushing him back. “But you had better stop this bullshit. I did not choose anything. You pushed me away. You, Adam Collins, you changed. That boy in eighth grade that I dated? I liked that boy a lot. I even loved him. But you changed. You became cold. You pushed me away. You were cruel to me. Even now, you’re cruel. You made me wonder why for the longest time.”

  I pushed him further and further back until his back was at the exit of the library. Even the librarians had their eyes on us.

  “But at this point, I really don’t give a shit anymore why,” I said. “I’ve spent the last three years suffering from you. I could have forgiven some time, and believe it or not, I’m trying even now. But I’m done caring why you are the way you are, Adam. You are a cruel bully that gets off of seeing me suffer. Well, you know what? The bullied is tired of being this way. So quit being a fucking dick to me, or I will give you a taste of your own medicine, and you are not going to like it.”

  I glared at him hard, staring hatred into his eyes. Yes, that’s what it was. I had never hated someone before, but God, it felt good.

  The first couple of years, I’d tried to understand why he had become the way he had so hard. I sought to be kind to him, to offer forgiveness and comfort where others did not. It never worked. He always pushed me away.

  Even now, he’d had the whole summer to not have to face me. I hadn’t seen him since the end of junior year until his house party a week ago. That should have been more than enough time for him to move on and at least ignore me. I never expected us to be friends again, let alone—God forbid—lovers. I just wanted us to pass each other in the hallway without anything more than an awkward glance.

  But no.

  Samantha was right, albeit not completely. I was going to fight back—I just wasn’t going to sacrifice my dignity by doing something like dating Nick. But I sure as hell could do it by standing up to him.

  He leaned forward, went right by my ear, and breathed heavily into it.

  “Do you know what I can do to you, Emily Zane?” he said, annunciating my last name very slowly. “Do you know what kind of strings I can pull? Do I need to remind you of who my stepfather is?”

  I didn’t dare to say a word. I kept my head held high, even as it felt like he was a predator circling his prey. I was determined not to give him anything to work with, whether in the form of a weak word or in the form of cowering body language.

  “The shit you think that you can pull pales in comparison to what I can do to you,” he said. “I can go beyond ruining your life, Emily. I can ruin everyone you know and love. I have complete control over this school and anyone who goes here. If I want any teacher fired, I can make it happen. If I want a student expelled, I can make it happen. If I want to make the two of us share a detention room together, alone, I can make it happen.”

  He’s full of shit. He’s not God. He’s a man who must be dealing with some serious shit elsewhere. He’s not a sociopath, otherwise, he would have always been this way.

  But he’s not the person he’s claiming to be. He certainly doesn’t have the power he claims to be.

  “So if you ever threaten me again,” he said with a snicker. “I promise it’ll be the last threat you ever make. I’ll make sure that you and your sorry aliens for parents get their ass sent back to Russia. I—”

  I slapped him.

  I could handle a lot of shit thrown my way. I could not handle my parents getting disrespected like so.

  And Adam knew it.

  “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here,” Nick said, coming over and grabbing Adam before he retaliated in any fashion. “Do you really need to be such a fucking prick all the time?”

  “I am when Emily is a fucking cunt,” Adam growled, but behind his cruel words, I could see the eyes of someone sorry for what they had done. I could see someone who wanted to reach out to me, but someone who didn’t know how.

  Unfortunately, it felt like it had been three years since I’d seen those eyes. It was a little too late to try and make that a reality.

  “Leave it alone,” Nick said. “And what the fuck happened to your hand?”

  By this point, the two of them were walking out of the library. But they hadn’t gotten out of earshot yet.

  “Something at home,” Adam said. “Nothing of your concern.”

  He shot one more look at me, glaring at me, before he turned the corner. But he had said his words about something at home deliberately loudly, as if I had to hear what he was saying.

  It all but confirmed something I had suspected, namely that Adam had some kind of shitty home life. His own mother had said he wasn’t home when they were home, and it couldn’t have been a coincidence that Adam threw massive parties—almost parties meant to retaliate against his parents’ ownership of the home—when they were gone. Parties may not have been out of the norm for teenagers, but the way Adam went all out was beyond ridiculous.

  But did he have to take that anger and resentment out on me? Did he have to call me a fucking cunt in front of the entire library? Did he have to force me to cause a scene?

  My face flushed with red as I slowly came out of my tunnel vision and realized everyone was staring at me. Their eyes went back to their books when I turned back around, but the damage had already been done. I went back to my bag, stuffed the book in without closing it, and hurried out.

  Just as I got outside, all of my books fell out of my
backpack onto the concrete and dirt to the side. I stared at it, another reminder that Adam’s actions and his words had caused me to embarrass myself in front of a massive group of people.

  I burst into sobbing as I tried to put my life back together, if only for nine more months.

  8

  Adam

  Three Years Before

  “You make me so happy, Emily.”

  My girlfriend and I stood outside Mama’s Ice Cream shop, a favorite location of ours, one right down the road from Providence Middle School, with a cone of chocolate and peanut butter ice cream in my left hand. Emily, mirroring me, had a cup of mixed strawberry and pecan ice cream, her other hand holding my own. We’d just graduated middle school, and now the world of high school awaited us.

  The possibilities for us seemed endless. Even now, after dating Emily for six months, I felt butterflies whenever I looked at her. She could send me spiraling into a hurricane of excitement, and then, with a single kiss on the cheek, she could ground me and make me feel like I was back in Kansas ala Dorothy. She could make me fail to pay attention in class, admiring her golden blonde hair from the back of the class.

  I loved her.

  I really did. I knew that my Mom said I’d better understand love when I got older, but I didn’t care. Emily was a woman I could finally believe in. Emily was the person I could love that wouldn’t leave me or ignore me. She wasn’t going to die young, like my Dad. She wasn’t going to be distant, like my Mom. She wasn’t going to be a jackass, like my new stepfather. She was going to be mine, and mine forever.

  “And you make me ecstatic, Adam,” she said back.

  “Aw, jeez, do you have to one-up me with your words?” I said, causing us both to laugh as our arms swung across our bodies. “You’re so smart! I wish I was as smart as you.”

  “Nonsense,” she said. “I just work hard. You could be this smart, too, if you worked hard.”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  I definitely could not have Emily’s work ethic. No one could. She and Samantha were the two smartest girls in the class. I could see them both going to Harvard or Duke or somewhere similar.

  Hopefully, though, she wound up at Vanderbilt. I wanted her to come with me to the best college in Tennessee so that we could be together forever. And if she didn’t, that was fine. Maybe I’d propose to her before we left for college, just to make sure no one else got any ideas.

  Emily Zane was mine, and no one else’s. Nick might have been jealous of her, Kevin might have wished he had a relationship, and Ryan might have been unable to shut up about how hot she was, but no one was going to steal her away from me. Emily and I were meant to be.

  “I’m smart enough to know one thing, though,” I said with a smirk.

  “What’s that?” Emily said, taking a step forward.

  “That I love you.”

  She came close to me as we shared a tender kiss. She always hated these public displays of affection—she was a quieter person in general—but I liked to show off. Luckily, she liked me enough to go with it.

  “I love you too,” she whispered. “When you’re not embarrassing me!”

  I laughed as I hugged her, asking her, “Does this embarrass you more?”

  “Oh my God, Adam!” she said, but she was laughing.

  And that’s how it always went with us. Teasing, laughing, kissing, hugging—just perfection. She was my Russian blonde bombshell, my everything, my love.

  And then my phone rang. It was Ryan.

  “Ugh, he’s so annoying,” I said as I tried to slide the phone back into my pocket.

  Seconds later, though, Ryan called again.

  “You can answer him,” Emily said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I know you’re not. It’s why I like you.”

  But, nevertheless, I answered the call, if only because I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on kissing my girlfriend if my little brother kept bothering me.

  “I’m in the middle of a lovely time with a lovely lady, Ryan, so this had better be—”

  “Did you know Mom and Dad are going on vacation right now?”

  What?

  No, I did not know that. Nothing had been told to me of it. Mom hadn’t even hinted at it.

  “Stop playing around, Ryan, I’m hanging out with Em—”

  “I’m serious! Dad’s packing up!”

  He’s not our father. He’s the rich old geezer Mom married for money.

  “Adam, can you come home? I don’t know what’s going on.”

  I sighed. Ryan wouldn’t leave me alone until I came over, and as much as I found him annoying, his voice was scared. It made me scared.

  “Yeah, Emily’s Dad will be here soon. He can drop me off.”

  “OK, thanks. Hurry.”

  I hung up a second later. Emily’s face looked sad but understanding—I couldn’t ever remember a time when she didn’t try to understand what I was going through. She was so wonderful in that regard.

  “Everything OK?”

  “Stepdad and Mom seem to be taking off on vacation or something,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I need to go home to see Ryan. Can your Dad drop us off?”

  “Oh, yeah, of course,” she said.

  “Thanks. I’d call our driver, but I want to spend the ride over with you.”

  “Even with my Dad in the car?”

  “Especially with your Dad in the car.”

  “Jesus, Adam!”

  But once again, the two of us were laughing.

  * * *

  “I’ll text you when I know what’s going on, OK?” I said as I got out of her father’s car.

  She nodded.

  “Let me know, please.”

  I knew she hated PDA. I knew she would especially hate if I kissed her in front of her father.

  Too bad. I loved her.

  I leaned over to kiss her. In the periphery of my vision, I could see her father staring straight ahead, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Whatever—someday, I’d walk her down the aisle, and then he’d have to look at me. He couldn’t be mad at me if I loved his little girl that much.

  “Bye, Adam,” Emily said, her face so red it could’ve served as a model for sunburn.

  I chuckled as I headed back inside. I needed the boost of happiness and enthusiasm; I knew that I was about to walk into something bad. If Mom and Dad were packing up quickly enough to upset Ryan…

  I walked inside to, sure enough, see four bags at the front.

  “Mom?” I shouted.

  But I didn’t get an answer.

  “Mom!” I shouted a little louder this time.

  Again, no one in the house answered. If not for the bags at the front, I almost would have believed that Mom and Dad had already left, maybe even having taken Ryan in the process. That would have come as more than a shock; I knew that my stepfather preferred Ryan, but I didn’t think he would show his favoritism so blatantly.

  “Mom!” I shouted again, this time making the word curt.

  “Your mother is in the bathroom, getting ready,” my stepfather said as he emerged from the right office, a bit of a sway in his walk.

  “Sir?” I said.

  I didn’t call him Dad that often. He was my stepfather, not my father, after all.

  “Her and I are going to go… to go for a nice vacation to the Bahamas.”

  “Without us?”

  My stepfather just laughed at me. Yes, I was sure he was laughing at me and not at my words—he even patted me on the shoulder.

  “I hope, Adam, someday, you find a woman as hot as your mother who you can take on private islands somewhere. Because, damn, she is beautiful.”

  “What?” I said.

  My stepfather had never been shy about showing his public affection for my mother, but… what?

  “If you think that I give a shit about either you or Ryan,” he said with a smirk. “You are gravely mistaken.”

  I then picked up the faint smell of alcohol on him—a smell I
hadn’t indulged in myself, but an unmistakable one all the same.

  “You were part of the deal for your mother,” he said, rolling his eyes. “A woman as sexy as her at my age doesn’t come around very often. So, I had to take the deal so I could have that ass.”

  “Oh my God, that’s my mother!”

  “Yes, and she’s quite the babe, isn’t she?” my stepfather said with an amused smirk. “In any case, boy, I deserve this. You two have prevented me from getting laid for so damn long that I need to not be without you fuckers for as long as I can.”

  What the hell is going on? Am I dreaming this? This is a nightmare if so. There’s no way.

  “In any case, that beautiful body will…be mine, and I’ll be set,” he said, belching midway through his sentence. How drunk are you?

  “Don’t talk about her that way,” I said, air streaming out of my nostrils. “I thought you loved her.”

  Again, my stepfather laughed, almost cackled at me, as he put his hand hard on my shoulder. I moved it aside, nearly knocking him over in the process.

  “Who the fuck loves women?” he said. “Let me give you a little tip, boy. Women? All they’re good for is about ten to fifteen years of sex, and then, that’s it. One day, you’re sleeping with them, the next, they’re fucking the gardener while you’re at work. And if you think that little teenager you’re dating is any different, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

  “No!” I shouted. “Emily loves me! And I love her!”

  “And you think what you have is love?” my stepfather said, stifling another burp. “Let me tell you something. I’m seventy-eight. Love ain’t real, kiddo, at least not between two strangers. I’m sure your mother loves you and your brother, and I’m sure that my parents loved me. But love between strangers? Ain’t nothing but chemicals and your body playing tricks on you. Your mother thinks she loves me for my money. I think I love her for her body. It’s a trade that works—”

  “Stop!” I shouted.

  This couldn’t be real. Emily was going to be mine someday. We were going to last forever, just like my mother and father would have if my father hadn’t died so young.