The Bad Girl and the Good Boy

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The Bad Girl and the Good Boy Page 7

by Karla Luna


  “And what made you realize that you were in love with her?”

  “First, I wouldn’t say I’m in love with her. Not too much, at least. Second, it was just this stupid spin the bottle game we did in recess, and she got dared to kiss me.”

  “So you have kissed a girl!” I pointed an accusing finger at him with a huge smile on my face. But he just stayed serious.

  “No.” His hand caught my wrist and put my hand back down on my own lap. “It was just a simple little kiss on the cheek. That’s all.”

  “I’ve kissed you on the cheek,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, but I felt sparks when she kissed me.”

  I stayed silent, just staring up at him. So he even felt sparks. It must have really meant something to him.

  “God, that sounds so stupid said out loud,” he grumbled.

  I was about to open my mouth to say something when we heard a car door slam outside. Hard. Damn, wanna break that door of yours? It ain’t that cheap.

  Zavier almost jumped out of his seat, so I got up. But I ended up tripping on one of the legs of the table when trying to walk away.

  Zavier immediately grabbed me from around the waist before I could fall, pulling me to his hard chest. His sudden, strong grip somehow made my shirt lift up to expose the bottom of my stomach, showing off my navel and hip piercings.

  He looked down at them as I supported myself on his broad shoulders, feeling his warm hands on my exposed skin.

  “You okay?” he whispered, still staring down.

  I just nodded and put my hands on his well-built chest, before gripping his shirt into my fists. Oh, how I want this shirt off.

  “See, you put these sexy arms of yours around me after all,” I teased, innocently looking up at him through my long eyelashes.

  The corners of his lips curved up as if he was trying not to smile, his cheeks so rosy and sweet.

  Somehow, Jesse’s words reached my mind at that exact moment. Teach Zavier how to be really comfortable around girls. Teach him about the body. Meaning, how to kiss, how to treat them right and gentle, how to make them feel good…

  Should I really do that? It would be rather fun – getting to teach him, getting to kiss those lips of his. Oh, now I sounded all romantic and shit. But I wanted him to make me feel good, even if it was just my crazy hormones talking.

  “Yes! Bradley, would you just quit worrying about the poor girl? It’s only been three days.”

  At hearing his mother’s voice, Zavier let me go and shyly scratched the back of his neck. I just stood there next to him, trying to readjust my shirt.

  “She’s fine. I must go now. Her session’s coming up.” I heard Mr. Dickhead say something through the phone before Stormy hung up on him and looked at us. She gave us one of her huge, beautiful smiles. “Hey, kids.”

  “Hey, Stormy.” I waved at her.

  “Hey, Mom.” Zavier stepped in, gave his mother a gentle kiss on the cheek, and grabbed all of the grocery bags she had in her hands.

  “Oh, thank you, sweetie. What was going on? I might’ve looked distracted while talking on the phone, but I certainly saw Zavier quickly pulling away from you, Eve.” She smirked at me, making me cover my mouth, suppressing a giggle.

  Zavier blushed and shook his head at me since he was right behind Stormy. Then, he disappeared into the kitchen with the grocery in his hands.

  “Nothing. Just getting to know each other better.”

  “That’s great. How was your first day of school?”

  “Great, actually.” And it was. This was the first time at a school where I didn’t get sent to the principal’s office, and where I didn’t get a paper slip that said DETENTION!

  But I was probably going to get it the next day. I just knew it.

  That night was my very first therapy session with Stormy. She asked me more about school today, but mostly about my life back home. I mean, the only reason I really did all of that bad stuff with my gang members was because of the very cruel ways the Orphanage treated me. Like I was a pile of shit, basically. I really hated talking about it, but whatever. I needed to get a grip and I did. For the sake of her helping me.

  It was a really good thing we were only doing these therapy sessions at least once a week. It was a bit too early for the first one, but I guess it was fine. I just hoped I could survive the rest.

  •Zavier•

  Man… why couldn’t I get her out of my mind? That just sounded… cheesy and clichéd, like what a boy would think in a movie about the girl he liked. But I knew I didn’t like Evelyn. Plus, I had just met her. And another plus – she was a delinquent. Not trying to be judgmental here, because I wasn’t, but that was what she was and I felt quite strange about it.

  She was also this bad girl who didn’t care, and well, I was just plain old me.

  But honestly, she didn’t seem so bad. Sometimes, I couldn’t even picture her doing drugs, drinking, and most of all, killing. She was someone different, and something huge must’ve happened in her life to make her do the things she had done.

  The way she talked to me – flirted with me – as if it was nothing; the way she did things without even thinking twice about it, like sitting on my lap, asking me the things that she wondered the most about, and the way she just touched my arm like that…

  Sexy arms? I worked out almost every night and morning to build up strength. I didn’t want to have too much muscle that girls thought it was gross. And I also didn’t want to be too scrawny, either.

  I thought about wearing shirts that actually showed off my toned arms, but that just sounded like I wanted attention for myself when I hated it. Oh, and the skinny sweats? I actually used to play soccer and found them very comfortable and fitting, so I bought a pair my Junior year after I stopped playing.

  When Evelyn sat down on my lap, I moved almost unexpectedly. The feel of her body touching mine was just sending me on the edge.

  For some reason, she made me feel hot all over. I was talking all places here. I got shy, I got nervous, and I obviously blushed like crazy. I just… I didn’t even know.

  I bet that back at home, she was a freakin’ sex goddess. She could get any guy she wanted. They probably just threw themselves at her.

  Then why’d she choose to hang out with me on the first day? The nerdy, outcast, and dorky loser?

  Well, it was her first day after all, so she didn’t really know her way around and didn’t know anybody else. I bet that by the next two days, she was going to be a part of the popular crowd and leave me be.

  I shrugged the thought away and checked the alarm clock on my bedside table.

  It was currently 8:40 pm, so I decided to read one of my comic books, which was a little secret of mine. Girls weren’t into that stuff, were they? I mean, when I was at the comic book store with a few other guys and we saw a girl, we were like those guys from the show “The Big Bang Theory.” We would literally just stare at the girl, almost as if she had not just two but three heads on her body.

  This was just a little hobby of mine though.

  I was halfway through one of my Superman comics (who was, in my opinion, the best superhero in meta-existence), when the door suddenly clicked open.

  I didn’t think. I threw the comic book all the way across the room and quickly grabbed my MacBook. I opened it up and pretended to type some random stuff in.

  I looked up, as if I was barely noticing someone at the door.

  Evelyn was wearing the exact same clothes as earlier. Her body was so small and I felt like I’d break her if I held on to her too tight.

  That just had me thinking about earlier. I had seen her navel and hip piercings and I thought about something that I didn’t think had ever crossed my mind before. They looked so good on her.

  She giggled. “Don’t think I didn’t see you throw that comic book across the room, Mister.”

  Dang it.

  “Knock?” I asked, trying to change the subject while sitting up straight on my bed and placing
my laptop beside me. I adjusted the black sweater I had on, and rested my elbows on my knees.

  “I don’t knock.” She winked.

  “Well, what if I was changing or something?” Oh, why’d I have to say that to her!?

  “Oh… I would love the sight of that.” She bit her lip as I groaned and covered my face in embarrassment.

  “I’ll make sure to lock up then” Also, since I still felt a bit paranoid… “What are you really here for?”

  She skipped over to sit down next to me. “Just wanted to come and ask…” She took a long pause and looked around my room, which was pretty much like hers, except I had a few large cabinets with all tons of books, a bunch of technology stuff (video games), a couple of instruments, and the walls were tinted blue with a couple of video game and superhero references painted over it.

  Go ahead, Evelyn. Laugh at me. I’m waiting.

  She didn’t even crack a smile at the whole sight. It was like she expected it all.

  “What are you gonna do with this Willow chick? We didn’t finish talking about her.” She shrugged. “Those arms of yours distracted me.”

  I actually felt quite guilty for some reason, but why should I be? She was just teasing me. It was something I found out she did a lot.

  But that look in her eyes when they roamed down my arms, it made my throat close up. Never in my life had I really been checked out. I didn’t think I was really worthy of it.

  “She’s…” I cleared my throat, feeling my voice crack a bit. “She’s in my Mathletes…”

  “Oh, that nerd club of yours?”

  I breathed out and hung my head low. Why did people always assume that? “No,” I sternly said, making her smile innocently at me. “She’s one of the real shy ones. She also rarely speaks to me, and when she does, it’s just creepy.”

  “Creepy, as in that stalker in scary movies that breathes real slow through the phone when they unexpectedly call you?”

  I guess you could put it that way, too. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Then, that’s all I need to know.”

  I honestly didn’t hate Willow. I sort of pitied her, actually. She had absolutely no friends, and people were either freaked out by her, or were making fun of her. Her life seemed pretty sad.

  I was the kind of guy to feel sympathy toward others, but with Evelyn, I could read her a little and I knew she hated pity. A lot. So I made sure not to give it to her. I knew she didn’t need therapy. She just needed someone to be there for her when she was feeling depressed or something.

  Honestly, I wanted to be the person there for her at all times.

  But only if she’d actually let me.

  “You know, you seem to be getting used to me really fast,” Evelyn said, getting up from my bed and fixing her long shirt. I wondered who gave it to her because it was definitely a guy’s shirt.

  “Yeah, but that’s not a bad thing. We’ll be spending a lot of time together, after all.”

  And it was all true. Usually, I’d stutter and just laugh for no particular reason. I’d even go mute, too. But I was warming up to her so fast. Too fast that it was pretty much extraterrestrial-like strange to me.

  Why was that?

  7: Confrontation

  •Evelyn•

  I was thinking about handling this chick in an empty hallway, kind of like those cowboys in movies who face each other and glare until something happens, letting the tumbleweed roll off with the wind.

  My other choice was to just not give a fuck (which, most of the time, was the only choice for me), and just grab her damn collar and slam her against those steel, metal lockers.

  Yeah, that was actually not such a bad idea.

  But why was I thinking about this again? Oh, yeah. Her ass thought she was dating Zavier Coin. And obviously, he didn’t feel comfortable with it, so I was just looking out for him. He was clearly in love with little Miss perfect Barbie doll, and just like Jesse had told me, I shall help my adorable little Zavier.

  Today – Tuesday – Jesse was sweet enough to give me a ride to school. I heard that Zavier always sat with him at the front, but today, he chose to sit with me in the back and gave Ethan the front seat for once.

  “Evelyn, what are you thinking so much about?”

  I looked up and locked eyes with Jesse in his rearview mirror. He wiggled his eyebrows as I shook my head and tried to keep a straight face.

  I desperately failed.

  “Nothing,” I said, clearing my throat to try and disguise my laughter.

  “If you’re thinking about beating Willow up when we get to school, please don’t.”

  I turned to face Zavier. He was looking directly at me, his brown eyes so honest and sincere, like they were most of the time. Today, he wore a dark blue button-up shirt that hugged his torso perfectly, and some dark jeans. He completed the ensemble with some light blue Vans. I noticed he had a lot of Vans (the result of being in his room). His closet door was a bit open, so I peeked in there on my way out and saw all the different colored Vans.

  But overall, he looked really nice. It sort of seemed as if he took time to think about what to wear to school. But it was also noticeable that he did nothing to that messy yet sexy hair of his. It seemed like he just fixed it a little with his hands this morning, and that was it.

  I, on the other hand, straightened my hair, wore light make-up, and chose a black strapless shirt with some white shorts. I completed my look with black Converse. I was glad that, for once, they didn’t have stupid dress code.

  “Don’t worry, jeez,” I replied to him. “I won’t beat her up. I’ll just threaten the little bitch.”

  Zavier sighed and cringed a little, probably because of the use of foul language at the end of my sentence. “Come on, Evelyn,” he whispered, and I had to stop myself from giving in to him. Honestly, his eyes were very hard to resist. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll handle it.”

  “I said I’d handle it!”

  “You were too nice, it was irritating me!”

  By now, it was past first period, which meant we were going to be late to AP U.S. History again (pfft, like I cared). I looked for Willow all morning, and Zavier was hot on my tail the entire time. When I finally spotted her, she was going into her Math class (I think), so before she could fully enter, I caught up to her and pulled her by the back of her fucking neon backpack. Seriously, why neon colors? I hated them with such passion.

  Zavier immediately pulled me behind him and tried to sweet talk Willow. You know, ask her nicely why she did that Facebook status. She apologized and said she didn’t know what she was doing. Zavier just forgave her and said, ‘Oh, it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.’ I almost hit him on the head right then and there.

  Okay, my ass.

  “Seriously, let her go!” Zavier hissed, his cheeks rosy red as he took a look around. But we were currently alone in the hallway, with me slamming Willow against the metal lockers, and Zavier close behind me.

  “Listen to me. And listen to me well. Zavier doesn’t like you. You clearly did that Facebook status to make yourself feel better, which is really low. Lying’s not good and it won’t get your ass anywhere.” She nodded, scared out of her mind at how angry I was. I was death glaring on a whole new level, too. “Now, you’re gonna delete that damn status.” She stayed still while I was waiting for her to take her damn phone out to delete the stupid status. Did she not understand me or…? “Now,” I hissed, gripping her collar harder, making her breathing hitch as she reached into her jeans pocket for her phone. “And don’t ever do that again. If anyone asks about you and Zavier, just say it was a terrible joke, or that you were drunk. Trust me, they’ll actually believe it.”

  I know I sounded possessive and all, but seriously, who did she think she was? What if some creepo ass kid just put a status up, saying you and him/her were dating? You wouldn’t like that now, would you? How could Zavier act so calm and nice about it? And actually believe she did it by accident? Did he really feel s
orry for this chick?

  “T-there, there! Please let me go now, I won’t do it again! I promise!” she cried out with her palms raised up, tightly closing her eyes as if she was expecting me to punch her next. She was lucky I didn’t do that yet.

  I gave her a big smile and finally let her go. While I was lifting her up, her feet barely touched the floor, so she stumbled a bit. I still stood close to her as she looked up at me, readjusting her glasses that had tape in the very middle. I brought my hand up to clean off some ‘dust’ on her camouflage jacket.

  She still stared at me when I folded my arms across my chest. “What are you waiting for? Get the hell out of here.”

  She ran off as if a cheetah was chasing after her, but she kept looking at me over her shoulder while she did. I only nodded at her as if to say, ‘You want some more?’ But Zavier’s hand came up to grab my elbow, before I could go after her again.

  “Seriously? You just scarred her for life. Don’t you think the poor girl has enough to be scared of already?”

  Psh, I bet she’s scared of ladybugs.

  “Please, I did her a favor.”

  “What favor?”

  I had no idea.

  But all I wondered about right now was how Zavier would look like if he got super angry. He didn’t really seem like the type to throw a tantrum, but he did seem like the type to punch a pillow.

  “Look, come on. We’re late for class, and this is already the second tardy in my entire life.” Zavier grabbed my wrist and took us to class. The teacher was pretty chill like yesterday, so he didn’t care. He was just surprised Zavier was late again. It also seemed as if the students did work every day and he just sat there the entire time.

  Worked for me. I didn’t do anything anyway.

  This time, I sat next to Zavier with Barbie doll right behind him. My ears had perked up when I clearly heard her asking him about the whole Willow ‘relationship’ thing. It even had me rolling my eyes.

  I rested my head on my arms over the desk, pretending to take a nap so that I could hear their whole conversation.

 

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