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8: He knows
By Monday morning, I am still trending. It turns out a video of me getting dunked with iced coke by the Queen B herself is far more interesting than a video of Ben pecking Olivia in the middle of the cafeteria. Either way, the entire school is having a laugh at my expense and my fame doesn’t seem to be expiring soon. I don’t need the spotlight, they should be going crazy over Maria’s voice in the background of the original video. She sounded like an angel but no, those teenage devils will rather come for innocent me.
“Sweetheart, you are going to be late,” Mum calls from somewhere downstairs.
“I’m almost done,” I reply. I hear shuffling and her footsteps fade.
Another ping comes from my phone, I ball my free hand into a fist, glare at my reflection in the mirror before taking a look at the sender. This time, it is Daniel, he wants to know if I am okay. Okay? I scoff. If they are taking turns sending me messages, then they must be super worried by my silence o
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Bullied By The Badboy 9: Home
The hallway is silent, way too silent for a noisy school. Everyone is watching, feasting their eyes on us and waiting to see what Ben will do. As for me, I want to crawl into a hole and disappear. But I can’t move. Ben is so close to me I can see the cut on his lips, how the pupils of his blue eyes dilate in annoyance. He places both hands on either side of my head, leans till his nose brushes my ear and shivers spread down my back. His breath tickles my neck, I shut my eyes tight to avoid meeting his gaze and hug the textbooks to my chest like they can save me from his wrath. “Where were you Saturday night?” he asks in a clipped tone doused with anger, oblivious to the scene he is making. His voice is loud enough for anyone close to hear, my eyes flutter open and I swallow hard. From my peripheral view, I notice a few girls bring out their phones to start recording. Maria gawks at us, I can imagine the wheels in her head spinning out of control. It is not wh
Bullied By The Badboy 10: Give it back
I skip the second and third period. When the bell rings to signify the start of fourth period, I am feeling much better. AP Calculus class is empty, I take my place beside the window and plug in my earpiece. Maria’s voice floats into my ears, my head bobs to her cover of Beyonce’s solo. She has a whole album dedicated to covers. I chuckle at the reminder of this morning incident, she slapped Ben on my behalf. She has never slapped anyone in her life, not even a fly, she’s all bark and no bite, a total sweetheart. On instinct, my eyes lower to the seat I occupied on Friday. Will he come? If he will, I hope he trips on his way in and breaks his neck. Pressing the can of coke I snuck into class to my stomach, I drag down my shirt as the door opens. Abigail, a redhead with hot brains troops in. I know her name because she answers almost all of Mr Sam’s questions. She doesn’t say a word to me, no surprises there, we are not friends but her furious glare has me squirming. Okay, th
Bullied By The Badboy 11: The Old Man And The Sea
Everything changes after Ben’s punch. I don’t find the necklace and the pranks start. It started with the itching powder sprinkled on my books. Goosebumps cover my skin at the reminder. I don’t want to remember that episode or the serious swelling it caused. Mum panicked, Dad made me stay at home for a day. The jam on my locker came next. It took Maria dipping a finger into the thick, red mixture to convince me it wasn’t blood. The tampons made it look real and I know a certain she-devil who might have had a hand in that. Maybe it is all in my head but Ben hitting me in front of everyone encouraged this, made it kind of okay for them to unleash their reserved hate. Students are everywhere as I rush down the stairs, casting backward glances at intervals as if expecting someone to appear behind me. Someone named Maria. I am avoiding her and Daniel, they have made it their job to walk me to all my classes. I won’t let them continue babysitting me at the expense of being
Bullied By The Badboy 12: You
I lied. Two can’t play the bully. I don’t want to be the bully, I just want to be the ignored student. There’s no evidence of yesterday’s mishap on the clean floors of BH. I use my hand to shield my eyes from the sunlight seeping in through the long window opposite the stairwell. My phone vibrates in my pocket, I ignore it and push away from the window with a sigh. I have graced the front page of the blog long enough to know this is a notification from my class group chat. They can make as many memes of me as they want, I don’t give two shits. On second thoughts, I pull out the Samsung phone and erupt in giggles at the text boldly written on my screen with the multiple exclamation marks for dramatic effects. Maria is freaking out on what to wear. She freaks out on almost everything. Under her text is a short video clip, I plug in my earpiece and hit the play button. Using my shoulder to keep my locker open, I ransack my backpack for my lunch tick
Bullied By The Badboy 13: I don't understand anything
I am wearing makeup again because the witch scratched my face. The reminder has my jaw clenching but the image of her glitter covered hair, the shock etched on her flawless face brings a small smile to my lips. I swipe at my cheek, frowning at my fingertips coated in foundation and my body thrums with anger. I cannot forgive him, I will never forgive him even if he was the one who carried me to the nurse after I blacked out. He should have never interfered, I would have dealt with her properly. I pound my fists against my thighs, determined to ignore the boy appearing in my peripheral view. Mr Sam scribbles some more on the board, following it with a lengthy explanation. They say you understand the lyrics of a song when you are sad but in truth, you understand Calculus better when you are sad. Mr Sam throws a question to the class, I surprise myself by raising my hand. His hesitation to call on me stings a little but I understand it. Abigail snickers as I stalk
Bullied By The Badboy 14: For life
“You should have called me,” Maria says for the fifth or one hundredth time. I don’t know but I stopped counting the second time she said it. She rubs her hands together, angry eyes boring into my forehead. “What would you have done?” I ask. Whenever Olivia is involved, I try to handle it on my own to avoid her interfering. She is my best friend, she has my back but I want her to remain on the cheerleading team. I drag my sleeve over my knuckles, shivering a little in response to the gust of cold air that sweeps in. Most of the chairs are still wet from yesterday’s rain but the air is cool, cooler than it will be in the cafeteria. I am never going in there again. “I don’t know.” She shrugs, her top rides up to reveal her pierced belly button. “Next time, call me.” She dumps her bag on the bleachers, I grab the sandwich she stretches to me and cross my legs under me. I take a bite and close my eyes as my teeth sink into the cheese, savouring the
Bullied By The Badboy 15: Bucket list
The bucket list is a stupid list of things we want to do before finishing high school. I have something as silly as going on a date while she has something as big as sending her singing clip to America Got Talent. The bucket list says I have to try out for drama club this session, something I always put off because Olivia and her minions have been the reigning drama queens but that sneaky bestie of mine snuck it into the list. I get enough acting experience from being in the church’s plays but to Maria, it doesn’t count.I slip into class, a greater part of the lecture is spent thinking up lies to escape this little problem Maria created for me. After the last class of the day, I find myself walking towards the drama room while hugging my textbook tight to my chest. A peek through the small rectangular glass on the door reveals an empty room, I frown at the words written boldly on the paper glued to the door. An announcement.Practise starts at five.
Bullied By The Badboy 16: Benny
“Benny!” Asher screams, jumping on his brother. Ben catches him mid-air like he weighs nothing and ruffles his brother’s hair. The two are lost in their little world as I escape to my car. Ben is still an ass. Hopping into my car, I insert the key into the ignition without starting it. Ben slides his big helmet onto his brother’s head, hooking the strap under his jaw. He pats the helmet twice with a grin, the harsh lines around his lips soften, his eyes gleam. They fist bump, I smile at how easy it is for them to get along. Ben climbs the bike first, Asher gets in after him. I have never been on a motorbike, I am not sure I want to be on one with Ben in control. If he is anything like the jackass I know, he will throw me off his bike. With his leg on the metal thingy, he throws his brother a look over his shoulder. “Ready to go, Champ?” “Yes.” Asher’s eyes flit to the curb. “Wait. My new friend.” I slide down my seat, breath held in
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