Flawed Choices: A Bully Romance

by J. L. Ostle

  Flawed Choices

  J.L. Ostle

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Excerpt - Wanting Winter

  Excerpt - Wanting Winter

  Excerpt - Wanting Winter

  Acknowledgments

  Books by J.L. Ostle

  I always dedicate my books

  to my little boy, I love you Jake with all my heart.

  I also want to dedicate this book to my bartenders/friends who I stole the names from for my two leading men Benjamin and Zeal. Hope you like your fictional characters.

  Copyright 2019 J.L. Ostle

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including but not limited to; photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the authors imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products and works mentioned within this work.

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Karen Sanders Editing

  Formatted by Leigh Stone

  Cover by Kathryn Jacoby

  Chapter One

  I can’t help but play with my fingers, my hands in my lap while I watch him read over my file, even though I’m sure he has read it over a few times by now. I knew when I walked into Dean Peterson's office he wasn’t expecting me to look the way I do.

  If you’d never met me before, you would think by my appearance that I’m the sweet, innocent girl next door. I have that goody-goody look. Long, straight brown hair that reaches the middle of my back, light blue eyes, fair skin. I’m always known for my kind smile.

  Even though I hardly smile these days.

  But on paper, I’m anything but good. I try and keep to myself, stay out of trouble, but it’s like trouble always comes knocking when I’m around. And also, I have a few buttons that, if pressed, just switch my personality.

  I can go quiet, to in your face.

  Invisible, to bitch.

  I was never like this though.

  A Fighter.

  Getting kicked out of every college I’ve attended, having my parents throw money at schools to let them take me in.

  I’m a basket case.

  I know this is my last chance though. I know if I mess this up, that’s it. No college. No degree.

  I have to think about my future. Think about me and only me.

  I just wish I could.

  I know deep down that I won’t be able to contain myself when the wrong person gets in my face.

  “You have a very colorful resume, Lucille.” He closes my file and claps his hands together. “I hope you know in this school we run things differently. I run a tight ship here, cliché as it sounds. We follow the rules and I hope you will be able to too.”

  I nod before answering. “I will, sir. I just want to be given a chance. I know my past doesn’t represent me in the kindest of lights, but I am going to keep my head down and work hard.” I give him my well-rehearsed smile. Even the speech I gave was rehearsed.

  I know what he wants to hear.

  He smiles before standing up and walking around his large brown oak desk, extending his hand out for me to shake. I stand up, firmly shaking his hand before he guides me out of his office to the reception area where I was sitting twenty minutes ago.

  I notice a girl with wavy blonde hair and green eyes stand up once she notices us coming towards her. Her smile is small and gentle, as are her eyes, but I have learned that even the sweetest of smiles doesn’t always match the person.

  We stand in front of her. I notice her quickly eyeing me up before her eyes are on Dean Peterson. “Aisha, this is our new transfer student, Lucille. Lucille, this is Aisha. She is one of our brightest here at Glowworth College. She will show you around, and if you have any questions, she is the girl to go to.” We both shake hands. I sigh in relief that her handshake wasn’t harsh. “Lucille, if you do have any problems, my office door is always open.” He gives me one more smile which I know is a little forced and then he’s gone.

  I’m sure he’s worried about what I might do with the time I’m here.

  To be honest, so am I.

  Aisha looks me over while I do the same with her. She has a beautiful figure, and a well-kept appearance. “Thank you for showing me around,” I speak up, trying to change the awkward atmosphere. You think I would be used to this, but I’ve never been good with meeting new people. More than half the time it has always ended badly.

  She smiles, which reaches the corners of her eyes before her arm links into mine. “It’s no problem at all. It’s been a long time since we had a new kid, especially a transfer. The whole student body has been talking about you for the last couple of weeks. As you see, we don’t really get much gossip around here unless someone cheats or ends up very drunk at a party.” Her voice is so cheerful and friendly. I hold in a giggle at how quickly she speaks.

  The thing I don’t like is that I’m already the talk of the school. She looks me up and down once again. I look down at my attire. I opted for black skinny jeans and a white blouse where the sleeves only reach my elbow and my favorite black suede ankle boots. In which I carry a swiss army knife tucked inside. I’ve always carried it. In one school, I kept having run-ins with the football team. If I didn’t have it, I probably would be more messed up than I am now. I have kept my make-up neutral and I waved the bottom of my hair.

  “You are not what I was expecting though.” I can see the relief in her eyes.

  “What were you expecting?”

  She waves her hand around like she’s trying to find the right words to say. “Well, we heard rumors that you were meant to be this disruptive girl. So, I was expecting someone with very heavy make-up, dressed like a biker or a whore, even though I hate that word, but you know what I mean. I was preparing for the worst. But you look nice, so it shows rumors are rumors for a reason.” She keeps guiding us down the empty halls.

  Classes have already started and I know we’re going to disrupt one shortly when we enter. Walking down the quiet corridors, Aisha tells me about herself, that she wants to go work with her dad in the family business and that she doesn’t date as she has no room for boys in her life.

  I can relate to that.

  By the time we reach the room we need to walk into, my heart starts to race.

  I hate feeling so nervous.

  I have done this numerous times, but I think knowing that this will be the last is terrifying me. Images of my parents enter my mind. I know I have been a burden on t
hem. I know I have wasted so much of their money, and yet they still shower me with love and understanding.

  Still in my thoughts, I jump when I feel a tug on my arm. I look to Aisha who looks confused, her eyes squinting a little. “Sorry. I was in my own world then. Just hate that everyone is going to be looking at me once you open that door.”

  Her eyes soften. “It will be fine. You have me to look out for you. We have every class together, which is also why I think Mr. Peterson linked us up, but as I said before, nothing really happens around here. You are news but soon you will be just one of us.”

  I nod, taking in a deep breath, and watch her open the door. She walks in first, keeping the door open for me. I walk in, and as soon as I do, the whole room goes quiet. Like I expected, everyone’s eyes are on me. I look around, seeing rows of desks filled by students, a few whispering.

  Aisha links her arm through mine again and guides me to the professor who is a small old lady who looks to be in her sixties. Her hair is fully grey and in a messy bun on top of her head. Aisha introduces us and I can see the wisdom in her eyes. She looks intently at me before smiling warmly. She tells me to take a seat. I follow Aisha, and once I’m seated, I try and keep my eyes forward even though my whole body is telling me to look around. I can feel everyone staring but I try and ignore it.

  I grab my laptop from my bag, and my Dictaphone. I like to record all my classes as I do at times get easily distracted or end up listening to people talk around me, so at least this way I know I won’t miss anything.

  Aisha never once talks during the whole class. She is solely focused on what is being said. I’m glad I was paired with a good student. I hope that we become friends. But I won't hang onto hope as friends I have made in the past always leave. I don’t blame them. If I was them I would have left me too.

  Once a trigger has been pulled, there is no going back. I’m not the same person they got to know. I have six months here then I will be free. College will be over.

  I can move on with my life.

  Well, that’s what I tell myself.

  I like to think the gold is at the end of the rainbow. My gold is waiting for me when I graduate.

  If you graduate.

  Class flies, and once we’re dismissed, I pack away my things. Aisha once again links her arm through mine and we head out, walking down the busy corridors to our next class. In the short amount of time I’ve gotten to know Aisha, she really does like to talk, which I don’t mind. I like listening to her stories.

  It's nice to hear about a normal girl and her normal, everyday problems. A few things she says make me laugh, and she beams every time I do.

  Not a bad start to the day.

  Chapter Two

  The rest of the morning goes by quickly I still get stared at and whispered about but I’ve got used to it by lunchtime. With Aisha at my side, I start to ignore the people in the background. We’re walking to the cafeteria while she tells me more about herself. At this rate, I’m going to know her whole back story by the end of the day.

  The bonus is, the more she talks about her, the less she asks about me.

  We walk in line to grab something to eat, but I don’t feel that hungry. I know I will regret it later if I don’t eat something now though. I grab a bag of chips and a Coke. I’m looking around the room while I wait when Aisha’s phone rings. Her eyes widen before she looks at me then back to her phone.

  “I’ll be right back. Go grab a seat and I’ll find you in five minutes.” With that, she’s gone.

  The moment she leaves, nerves fill me. With her near me, she was like a security blanket. Crazy, I know, but now I feel weird being on my own.

  I pay for my items, walking farther into the busy room, seeing that all the tables have been taken. I bite my lip, trying to find a table with two free seats where no one will care if I joined. I want to make sure I don’t sit with any cliquey people.

  I watch a girl leave one table, leaving it empty. Not believing my luck, I practically jog over to it, taking it before anyone else does. I sit, releasing the breath I was holding in.

  You would think I won something from the way my heart is beating against my chest.

  I look around me one more time, hoping Aisha hurries. Opening my can, I take a large sip, feeling the cold liquid shoot down my throat. I love fizzy drinks; they’re my weakness. If I go one day without a soda, I swear I start to get withdrawal problems.

  I’m about to grab my phone from my pocket when I feel someone standing right behind me.

  I close my eyes for a moment before turning, looking up to see three beautiful girls glaring down at me. Just like in any school I’ve been to before, hell, even in most of the teen movies I’ve watched, there are always three girls who look flawless and model-like, but I know these are the girls people are scared to mess with.

  I don’t say anything, I just look at them with indifference, waiting for them to say something. I guess this is their table and they want me to move.

  Of course I chose the wrong table. Like I said before, trouble comes knocking, even when I don’t mean it to.

  See, there is another issue with me. I’m stubborn and I don’t let people walk all over me.

  I kinda nod my head, indicating for one of them to say something and I can see the frustration written all over the girl in the middle’s face; her jaw is set, sucking in her cheeks a little, her eyes narrowed at me. Most people would automatically stand up and move, but I don’t want her to think I’m like everyone else.

  That she can just give me a bitchy look and I’ll go running.

  “You’re sitting at our table.” The girl on the right finally speaks. I turn my head to look at her. She said it in a polite voice, but her voice doesn’t match the way she’s eyeing me.

  I know I should stand up.

  I know I should just move.

  I promised myself I would keep my head down.

  I hate that my brain has no common sense and is glutton for punishment.

  “Are these tables assigned? Maybe you can join me? There are plenty of seats.” I wave my hand around the empty chairs.

  Oh my God, what is wrong with you? Have you not learned anything from the last five years? Get your ass up and move.

  The middle one, the one I know must be the leader of the three, clicks her tongue. Why do popular girls always have to look near enough the same? I look at each of them with their long blonde hair, wearing almost matching outfits. I can tell the girl on the left is a natural brunette by her roots, but of course, she wants to fit in and changed herself to do so.

  “Listen, I get that you’re new, but we always sit at this table. Everyone knows we sit at this table. So, if you don’t mind…” She waves her hand, trying to shoo me.

  She is giving me the opportunity to get up and go, she isn’t being that bitchy, but I look around the room once more and still don’t see any spare seats. I really do think I have a personality disorder when it comes to the popular/powerful kids at schools.

  Just them being around me changes me. I can’t explain it. I know it’s because of my past that I’m like this. I just wish my inner thoughts reflected my outer actions.

  “I get this is your table, but I just want to sit down for ten, wait for my friend and then I’ll leave. You won’t even know I’m here.”

  Why do I do this to myself? My inner me shakes her head.

  The one in the middle opens her mouth about to say something but I jump when a bang lands on the table and Aisha is standing there, palming the desk, looking back and forth between me and the trio.

  “Kimberly, I am so sorry about this. She’s new and doesn’t know any better. Luce, let’s go outside. It’s a beautiful day and I want some fresh air.” She smiles at me, but I know it’s forced.

  What am I doing?

  I’m being childish. It’s my first day here and it’s like I want to cause problems for myself already. I nod before standing, stepping to Aisha’s side. Aisha grabs hold of my arm and pulls
me away, but we stop when her name is called out. We turn to see a smirking Kimberly sitting where I was.

  “I think you need to tell the new girl the rules around here. It wouldn’t be a great start for her if issues were raised.”

  What the hell does that mean?

  I’m about to say something when I’m dragged out of the cafeteria, down the hall until we’re outside and taking a seat at an empty bench. Luckily, I never spilled my drink.

  Yeah, that’s what you should be worried about. Your drink.

  “You are so lucky I came when I did. I shouldn’t have left you. Shit.” She stands up and starts pacing before sitting again. “We’ve been getting to know each other but I forgot to tell you about some of the people here.” Well, I’ve been getting to know her, but I don’t interrupt. “Listen, I’m sure your last school, even in high school, you must have had the popular crowd?”

  Yeah, I did. Each school had them. I had issues with each and every one of them.

  “I know what you’re going to say. I need to stay clear of them, they can make my life hell, etcetera …”

  Aisha interrupts me. “Yeah, they can make your life hell. Those girls and the guys they hang with are like the elite of this town and this school. They were born with money and power. They have always been like royalty ever since kindergarten. If you try and cross them they will punish you, put you in your place.” She looks at me worriedly.