Bad Guy: Providence Prep High School Book 1

by Allen, Jacob

  * * *

  Present Day

  It was eight in the morning, and I was studying at my desk before my shift at the pizza restaurant began. It had been a long, exhausting, emotional night, and the struggle to study was real.

  And then Adam woke up.

  I wheeled around in my chair. Adam was in nothing but his boxers and a white t-shirt, having slept on the floor of my room with some blankets over him. I’d waited for this moment all night, but he was so drunk that as soon as he collapsed to my floor, he passed out hard.

  So now the morning had come, and it was time for some answers.

  “Emily?” he said, blinking his eyes awake.

  “Rise and shine,” I said, crossing my arms. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fuck…” he said, his voice trailing off, rubbing his head. “What happened? Why am I here?”

  “One question at a time,” I said. “You drank too much. Kevin said you were drinking Fireball straight from the bottle. You acted like a jackass on stage. You passed outside. You… you clearly needed to be taken home. So I took you here.”

  “Oh, right, that,” Adam said as he slowly stood up. He stretched, groaned, rubbed his temples some, and looked at me. “I knew you wanted me. I knew you were a whore who—”

  I wasn’t having any of this. I stood up and slapped him so hard that he stumbled into my drawer, grabbing his lower back as soon as he did. He groaned and sharply winced as he laid back on the ground.

  “You probably don’t remember this, because you were too drunk to remember, but I saved you from having to go home to your house,” I said. “What you did on stage to your stepdad would have gotten all of us murdered if we’d done that to our parents. I followed you outside as soon as you did, but you just collapsed. I heard what your stepfather said to you.”

  I also heard something much more interesting from Adam then, but I decided to hold that bullet in the chamber for later.

  “You did not want to wake up in your own home tonight, Adam. So I told your mother that I would take care of you. I took you home, giving your stepfather and mother a chance to decompress. And this is how you treat me?”

  I shook my head. I really was disappointed, and there was no hope in my head. It was one thing to treat me like a jackass when I was avoiding him. It was another to do so after I’d saved him.

  “You call me a whore and said I wanted you? Fuck you. I did not touch you at all last night. As soon as we got in my room, you collapsed to the floor. I asked you if you needed water, and you kept moaning. I didn’t touch you, nor do I want to touch you. Now I’m wishing I’d left you back outside, waiting for you mom and stepdad to ground you to hell.”

  I didn’t have my eyes well up. I’d shed too many tears in the past three years over Adam, including nearly at last night, when I feared he was about to call me out on stage. He saw me while he was up there; we’d made eye contact. I feared it enough that my emotions were rising at the deja vu of getting called out at his house party.

  But now? I was done crying over Adam. If I had been the bigger person and saved him and he still treated me like shit, then maybe he really was a sociopath. Maybe he’d just hidden it really well when we’d dated before.

  I turned my back on him and sat at my desk, resuming my studies. I’d wait for him to get up, at which point I’d tell him to call an Uber with his now-charged phone. I’d tell him that if he ever made fun of me at school, I’d turn him into his stepdad. That would be the end of it, and the two of us could move on forever.

  “Emily.”

  I ignored Adam at first, even if he had said my name very softly and very gently. I’d seen this game before—play nice, yank the carpet out from underneath me, make the pain hurt that much more.

  “Emily… please?”

  I hate that I’m too nice to him sometimes.

  I swiveled my chair, faced him, and waited. I had never seen Adam look so… vulnerable. So wounded.

  “Why did you take me here?” he said. “I’ve treated you like shit the last three years. And yet you still are nice to me. Why?”

  I don’t think I’ve ever heard him be so honest.

  Adam…

  I sighed, looking away from Adam. I didn’t like seeing him so down, so wounded, and so hurt.

  “I wanted to help a drunk person,” I said, which was obviously barely a percentage of the truth.

  “That drunk person sure was an awful big asshole,” Adam said.

  “But not a dick.”

  Adam sat up and concentrated his gaze on me.

  “Adam, some people are mean just for the sake of being mean,” I said. “You’ve been awful to me all through high school. I don’t know why… but I know there’s a why.”

  Adam’s expression softened. He looked so… so unlike the Adam of the last three years.

  And he bore a small resemblance to the Adam of the first year or so that I’d really gotten to know him.

  “Adam, do you know what you said right after your stepfather left?”

  I could tell by the flash on his face he knew. But he wasn’t going to… or perhaps, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  “You said…”

  I gulped. I spoke my next words very softly.

  “You said, ‘never should left you, Emily. Sorry. Sorry…’”

  He didn’t need to know the rest. He didn’t need to know that he’d called himself worthless. I didn’t need to beat him down when he was already down on himself.

  “Just tell me the truth, Adam,” I said. “Did you mean it?”

  A long, long silence came between us. Neither of us could look at each other for long—the few moments that we did felt too emotional to bear. Were three years of frustration and bullying about to vanish in favor of the truth? Or was I about to truly, forever bury the time that we had together?

  Either way, I hoped that this would mark the end of him bullying me. It had gone on far too long as it was, and after a conversation like this, there was no good reason to keep pressing on.

  “I want to show you,” he said softly. “Instead of telling you. Can I do that?”

  “Sure,” I said, not completely understanding what he meant.

  Then he stood back up, put his hand forward, and beckoned me to rise. When I took it, he smoothly pulled me in and closed his eyes. Oh shit—

  And before I could react, he was kissing me.

  And not only was he kissing me, I was kissing him back.

  The fire that had nearly gotten snuffed out over the past three years was still there. We still had feelings for each other. We had just never known how to express them—Adam most of all.

  Briefly, our kiss ended, and we looked into each other’s eyes. But that break only allowed us to kiss with more fervor and passion, and we were shortly after on the bed, with me mounted on top of him.

  I could feel him growing underneath me, and my arousal started to spike. There was no way I was going to go that far with him after just one kiss, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t think about how good it would feel. Or, for that matter, how appropriate it was that my first love would also be the first person I slept with.

  Our kiss picked up in intensity. It felt both out of nowhere and the most obvious thing ever. Now that I knew the truth… now that I knew that Adam had always wanted me back, but had just always felt worthless in comparison…

  “Let me show you how else I mean it,” Adam said as he nibbled on my neck.

  I had to admit, him kissing my neck definitely tilted the scales a bit closer toward me saying yes. But that was far from them being in favor of me actually getting naked for him. It just meant I had gone from giving it no thought to giving it a little bit of thought.

  “Adam,” I said, rising up.

  I had to admit, this view also made me think about doing it more. The cowgirl position let me look into his eyes, and it would give him access to touch me everywhere.

  “We have so much to figure out before I’m going to sleep with
you,” I said. “I’m not going to be Janelle. And I’m not sorry about that.”

  “Oh, I didn’t do anything with her.”

  “Besides dance like you two wanted to fuck on the dance floor?”

  Adam put his hands on his face, and honestly, it was kind of cute. Janelle wasn’t the one on top of him right now, so I didn’t really care.

  “I really didn’t do anything else with her,” Adam said. “I just… wanted to show you up.”

  “Has it always been like this?” I said, turning serious. “Have you always wanted me the past three years?”

  Adam bit his lip. I smiled.

  “Come on, let’s do it,” he said, running his hands under my shirt and across my belly.

  It tickled and felt really good. Like, really good.

  So much so that I leaned forward and started kissing on his neck. Two could play that game. And then I leaned a little further, breathed heavily into his hear, and felt him shake underneath me.

  “No,” I said. “Not now.”

  I then sat back up and patted his chest.

  “Besides, I’m not going to do it with my parents in the house. But even if they weren’t here, you have to earn it. You have to show that this isn’t just you trying to get ass.”

  “It’s not,” he said. “I’ve… I know I’ve fucked up a lot. I’ve gone through a lot of shit with my family life, but that’s not an excuse. I…”

  He sighed. I gave him the time he needed to find whatever words he needed to.

  “I’m not very good at talking about this,” he admitted.

  “Then we’ll work on that,” I said. “So long as you try and be a better person, I think we can build toward something.”

  “Oh?” he said, cocking an eyebrow playfully.

  “Don’t get your hopes up like that, bucko,” I said. “I’m not sleeping with you unless we go back to being a thing. I’m not just going to have sex and then roll over and let you walk away.”

  Then a dark look crossed over his face, and I began to fear that just like that, he was about to prove he really only had wanted sex.

  “Fucking Nick, though—”

  I laughed, leaned forward, and kissed him to show him that that wasn’t a thing.

  “Honestly, I said yes to Nick because I knew it would bother you,” I said. “But I’ve never felt anything for Nick. Nice guy, great guy, but he doesn’t excite me like you do right now.”

  “But summer before ninth grade?” he asked.

  “Come on, you already know that was nothing.”

  He sighed.

  “I know. I just let my anger get the best of me then. But you promise you didn’t do anything in the past few weeks?”

  I thought of telling him about the fact that Nick had tried to kiss me at the ice cream shop, but I decided that would just cause more problems than not. The ideal world had Adam working on things with me while he and his friends were reunited; not him trying to court me while also trying to kill Nick on the side.

  “Nothing,” I said. “He’s nice. I’m going to be his friend whatever happens here. But no. Didn’t you see us dancing apart? I didn’t want to give him any ideas.”

  “I did,” he admitted. “But how did he react when—”

  “Oh, he wasn’t thrilled about it,” I said. “But I told him that I wasn’t going to let you get hurt. He resisted before realizing it was fruitless. But he’s fine. He wants to be your friend, too. You just have pushed him away. You might do well to apologize to some people.”

  I hoped he got the hint. I hoped he realized that I hadn’t said those words by accident, and that I wanted him to apologize to me directly.

  “Eventually,” he said.

  Well, I suppose it’s better than nothing. But I’m not going to get him naked until I hear those words.

  “You sure you don’t want to feel good right now?”

  I snorted and rolled my eyes, albeit with a smile.

  “I see why all the girls like you with your persistence,” I said. “But you’re not going to get anything more right now.”

  In fact, to prove the point, I hopped off of him and went back to the desk. I did, however, at least give him the benefit of having my fingers brush over his boxers as I got up. I could feel his stiffness underneath, and I’d be lying if I said there was no temptation.

  But I had to be firm on this one.

  “You want it?” I said. “Prove you care about me. Prove you really, sincerely, honestly care about me, and that I’m not just a fuck to brag about.”

  16

  Adam

  In the span of less than an hour, it felt like everything had changed.

  Oh, don’t get me wrong. I still hated my stepfather. I still hated myself for drinking so goddamn much. I still hated my mother for being distant emotionally while appearing to love me.

  But Emily…

  No one had ever cared for me as she had. No one, that was, except for Emily in eighth grade. When I’d gotten that drunk before, the few times that it had happened, people revealed their true colors and left me alone. Even the Broad Street Boys, for the most part, kept their distance when such things happened.

  But for Emily to have left Nick behind… for me…

  I was stunned.

  It was almost a good thing I was as hungover as I was, because it went a long way to making me feel too weak to express a ton of emotions. I was already feeling quite weak before her now; I didn’t need to look even weaker by crying in front of her.

  “You are more than that, Emily,” I said.

  “Then prove it,” she said as she turned her attention to her notes.

  I knew what the answer was. It came to mind immediately. It was going to be a huge violation of one of the few rules that I had, and it was going to involve something I hadn’t done since I’d gone out with Emily. But perhaps that very thing would be the way I could prove it to her.

  “Let me take you on a date.”

  * * *

  I still can’t believe I’m doing this. Seriously. Emily is great, but me? On a date?

  It was Friday night, and I had parked my car outside her house, waiting for her to come downstairs. I wasn’t feeling a ton of regrets about what had happened the day after homecoming, especially since now I felt a lot less stressed, and Nick and I had even reunited as friends, but still… a date?

  Adam Collins just didn’t go on dates. He scored what he wanted to score, he kept himself single, and he didn’t involve himself in emotions. There were too many ways one could get hurt.

  Which, I suppose, just made it all the more remarkable that I was here now, about to take Emily out.

  She finally emerged from her room, wearing jean shorts, a low-cut top, and some nice makeup. I got out of the car to greet her, and she came over to me with a smile.

  “Why hello, good sir,” she said as she hugged me tight.

  “Hi, Emily,” I said.

  I wanted to kiss her, but when I went down to do so, she only gave me her cheek.

  “You have to earn that,” she said.

  Oh, God, do I have to earn everything with this? Fucking hell, this is bullshit.

  “Don’t worry, just be a gentleman and treat me right and you’ll get what you want.”

  I tried not to smile too broadly at that. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself; maybe “what you want” was only referring to a kiss and not sex or something else.

  It sure would have been nice, though. I was missing our first playoff game and a chance to support Nick. He didn’t mind too bad that I had chosen Emily over him, but I knew that our friendship still had some work to do.

  Fuck it, whatever. If he chose me over pussy, then I’d mock him relentlessly for it. I didn’t need to apologize for the choice I’d made.

  We both got in the car, and just as I grabbed the gear shift, Emily put her hand on mine. It was firm, not tender, but it still sent chills and made the hairs on my arm stand up.

  “Do me a favor,” she said. “Drive lik
e a normal human being. I’ll be more impressed by your ability to drive in control than I will be by your NASCAR skills.”

  “You are no fun,” I said, but she understood I was just being sarcastic.

  Kind of.

  Though I still sped, I made sure my acceleration was gradual and that my speeding was no more than ten miles per hour over the speed limit. Such limitations felt boring—I wanted to gun my Corvette, show off to the other drives, and give Emily the thrill of her life.

  And instead, we were going to a fucking Nashville SC soccer game. A fucking minor league soccer game?!?

  I needed to do penance at the altar of manhood for failing myself so badly here. Not only was I going on a date, I was going to a soccer game. I might as well have ordered her some vegan soybeans and asked her if I could order a fruitini while I was at it. Goddamn!

  And yet, it’s still fun. Go fucking figure.

  Our chatter remained fun, bordering on flirtatious, but it was a real struggle to remain a gentleman here. By force of habit, I was so used to closing the deal so quickly that we would have banged at least twice over in the time it took for me to pick her up to the time that we took our seats at the stadium. Admittedly, it was a nice, cool fall day; the weather was perfect, the crowd was much more present and packed than I had anticipated, and Emily was in a great mood. It made me feel good to see her feel good.

  But I just couldn’t quite let go of the fact of how it looked.

  “I just wish we were watching a real sport,” I grumbled when one of the players collapsed and writhed as if bitten by a snake.

  “Watch it,” Emily snapped. “You know that’s the sport I play, right?”

  “I know.”

  A few seconds of silence passed. Emily turned to me and sighed.

  “What?” I said, genuinely unsure of what she was looking for.

  “You need to apologize,” she said. “All of these guys out here on the field could kick your ass.”

  “I’d look like a pussy if I did that, I—”’