The whole class must think she’s playing favorites, but my mom talked to her about my … problems, and now the teacher is willing to give me more time to get my stuff done because of the therapist appointments I have. Or had … at least … because I wasn’t planning to attend anymore.
But maybe that judgment call was too early.
As I look around for a seat, the only available one is right next to Cole.
And the deadly look in his eyes, like I’m the world’s worst person to come and sit next to him, makes me gulp.
I wasn’t planning on going anywhere near him anytime soon, but I guess I have no choice in the matter if I want to attend this class.
Every step I take in his direction seems to make the look on his face worse and worse, almost as if he’s warning me not to get close or he’ll do something to me. Fuck.
Clutching my bag, I sit down and lean as far away from him as I possibly can while being as quiet as possible. The teacher has already started class, so there’s no time to get comfortable in this uncomfortable situation.
“What are you doing here?” he suddenly barks.
It takes me a few seconds to form a good response to that blatant attack. “Attending class like I’m supposed to.” I look his way. “You?”
“Thinking about bailing,” he retorts.
There’s an edge to his voice. Almost as if he’s taken a personal dislike to me.
Is it because I called him an asshole? Maybe. Did he deserve it? Hell yes.
“You want to ruin your education?” I shrug. “Go ahead.”
“Better than spending the next hour in your vicinity.”
I throw him a dirty look. “Wow, that’s a low blow, Travis. Even for you.”
He raises a brow. “Travis? We’re on a last name basis now? Okay, Romero.”
I stick up my middle finger. “I’m not interested in a conversation with you.”
“You sure seem awfully bothered by me, though,” he retorts.
“Not at all.” I flip open my book and try to read, but his constant rage-filled gaze makes it hard. I plant my fist on the table and glare at him. “What do you want?”
“From you? Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” he replies with a husky voice that pushes all my buttons. Again.
“Then why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, trying not to get upset, but he’s making it hard.
He leans on his fist. “It’s hard to look elsewhere when you’re constantly in my face.”
“I’m not,” I scoff.
“Always following me around, landing right in my lap …”
Landing in his lap? God, the fucking nerve of this guy.
“That’s not true, and you know it,” I say, trying not to break the pencil in my hand.
“Right … of course, it isn’t,” he retorts.
I return my attention to the book and tell myself not to look at him.
However, when he starts poking me in the side, it gets really, really hard not to scream.
“Stop it,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Why would I?” he replies, still poking me.
I grab the pen he’s holding and throw it away. “I didn’t do anything to deserve this, and you know it.”
A devious brow rises. “Oh, really? And what about that night at the lake?”
My cheeks turn red, and my pupils dilate. I cannot believe he brought that up in class.
“We had a conversation,” I retort.
“You call that a conversation?” he taunts.
“Shut up,” I growl under my breath.
“Make me,” he retorts.
I wish he didn’t bring it up, I wish I could bury it forever and never think about it again, but he makes it impossible.
“You still think about it, don’t you?” he muses, his hand inching closer and closer like a spider sneaking across the table. “You think about me touching you … kissing you …”
I shudder in my seat, trying to pretend it all played out in my head instead of reality, but it’s damn hard when he confronts me like this.
He pulls at his shirt. “I can’t blame you.”
“Oh my God …” I roll my eyes. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“What? You think I don’t know what I do?” He cocks his head.
“No, enlighten me,” I reply.
“I could tell you about how much I enjoy bringing girls to their knees …” he says, his voice so husky it reminds me of him whispering dirty things into my ear in the water, and it makes the goose bumps appear on my arms. “Or I could just torture you by not giving a shit.”
I slam my pencil onto the desk. “You like this, don’t you? You like to see me squirm. You’re just a fucking bully.”
“A bully? That’s the first time I’ve heard that,” he replies in an aloof way that shows how little he takes me seriously.
“Maybe it’s the first time a girl actually fights back,” I bark. I can’t stay here. I tried, I really fucking tried, but he’s so obnoxious I can’t finish this class. I simply can’t.
“Fuck you, Cole Travis. You wanted me to hate you? You have your fucking wish,” I say through gritted teeth, and I grab my bag, stuff my books and pens inside, and march off, with literally everyone’s eyes pointing lasers at my back.
But I don’t care. Let them look. Let them know Cole Travis isn’t the idol they think he is.
Chapter 17
Monica
“So … tell me all about your new school. What’s it like being the new girl?” Sam asks me while sliding a cold spoon of ice cream into her mouth. “And this Melanie girl, is she a good friend?”
“Definitely,” I reply. “She’s saved me from bad situations multiple times.”
“Bad situations?” She leans in. “Tell me more.”
“Oh, you know … boys.” I take a spoonful of ice cream and shove it in my mouth.
“Boys?” Her eyes widen. “Shut up. You’re not already dating, are you?” She laughs when I shrug. “Oh my God, Mo. Really?”
“I’m not … I just have boy trouble,” I reply. “You know how it goes.”
“I thought you’d sworn off all boys,” she says, taking another bite.
“I did, and I still do.” I shove my spoon back into my giant ice cream cup. “But this one just can’t stop annoying me.”
“Annoying?” She narrows her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re being bullied. Is this the same guy you talked about on the phone?”
I nod and rub my lips together. “He just can’t seem to get enough.”
“Fuck that shit.” She slams her spoon down. “What’s his name? I’m gonna go look him up on Facebook.”
“Fuck no,” I say, my cheeks turning redder by the second. “I’d rather die.”
She frowns at me. “C’mon.”
“I mean, no offense, I love you, but I’m too ashamed to show you the truth.”
She makes a face, and a grin creeps up on her face. “Now, I really need to know.”
“What? He’s a nobody,” I say.
It’s a lie, but I can’t tell her the truth … That a fucking famous singer in a rock band has his sights set on me, and not in a good way.
“A nobody, huh? A bully that can’t stop chasing you?” She wiggles her brows. “Yeah, I don’t buy it. This guy’s getting to you, and you’re not giving me the juice.”
Her eyes travel off to my phone, which lies in front of me on the table. We both lunge at it, but she manages to snatch it up before I do.
“Ha!” she squeals.
“Sam, fuck off, give it back!” I yell at her while she pushes me away and searches through my contacts and Facebook friends.
“Where is he? I need to see him. Do you have his number?” she asks.
“No!” I try to snatch it back, but she keeps avoiding me with that nimble body of hers. “You don’t wanna mess with this dude, trust me.”
“That only makes me more intrigued,” she replies. “C’mon, show him to me.”
/> “Why? He’s an asshole,” I retort.
“Maybe I’m gonna give him an earful,” she says, folding her arms while hiding the phone underneath.
I hold up my hand. “Please don’t. I don’t want to be more embarrassed than I already am.”
“I won’t embarrass you, promise.”
“Sam …” I sigh. “This is my new school. I’m still the new girl. I can’t be making enemies right now.”
The look on her face softens. “I just wanna help …” She sighs and then hands the phone back to me. “I don’t like to see you get hurt.”
“I know.” I smile. “You’re the best bestie a girl can wish for.” I beckon her to come to me, and we hug each other tight. “But I need to deal with this on my own.”
“You sure you’re ready? After everything that happened,” she mutters.
I suck in a breath but choke on it a little. “Yeah,” I reply even though I’m not at all certain of myself. “I have to move on, right?”
“Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” She cocks her head. “I mean, no one’s forcing you.”
I roll my eyes. “Could you sound anything more like my therapist?”
She laughs and punches my shoulder in a playful manner. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah …” I lower my head. “I know. I’ve been burned one too many times.”
She places a hand on my shoulder. “You know best what you need. And you’ll figure this out. And if you need me, I’m always there. You know that.”
“I know,” I say.
“And if you need Nate and me to punch someone, we’ll be there too,” she adds. Making a fist, she slams it against her other hand, making me laugh. “Oh! Fuck!” She points at the ice cream. “It’s melting!”
“Shit,” I hiss, and we both sit down to gobble it down before it’s ruined, and we look ridiculous doing it. So ridiculous, we both burst out into laughter with full mouths and full hearts.
Later that week
“Are you sure you wanna go?” my mom asks. “Last chance.”
I roll my eyes. She’s asked me so many times my ears are starting to bleed. “Yes, Mom, I wanna go on this school trip.”
“Promise me you’ll stay away from the boys' rooms,” she says, tapping my chest. “They’re liars and cheaters and—”
“Mom!” I say with widened eyes. “Please.”
“I know, but I’m scared …” She grabs my shoulders and sighs. “I don’t want you to get hurt. It feels so … soon.”
“I’m okay,” I say. “And it’s gonna be fine.”
“Stay out of trouble,” she says, looking into my eyes. “I know you want to, but you’re not ready yet.”
I raise a brow. “That’s not up to you to decide.”
“I know, but you know what your therapist said,” she says.
“My therapist wants me to go at my own pace, which is exactly what I’m doing,” I reply. “Relax, Mom. I’ve got this. Trust me.”
“Okay.” She smiles and then pulls me in for a hug. “Oh, Monica. I don’t want to worry so much anymore.”
“Then don’t,” I say. “I’m over it.”
People always say that saying it out loud makes you believe your own words, so I hope it works.
“If you say so, I’ll believe you,” she says, then she pats me on the shoulders one more time. “Go on then. Don’t wanna be late.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I throw my bag over my shoulder and fish my car keys from my pocket.
“But if any of them give you any trouble, you call me, and I’ll pick you up right away, no questions asked. Got it?” she shouts as I’m about to head out the door.
“Got it, but it won’t be necessary!” I shout back as the door closes behind me.
I’m so glad I got out of there before she made me give a full rundown of all the activities we plan on doing. I don’t even know, to be honest, I haven’t checked. I just saw that we were going to some big lodge with cabins in the woods up in the mountains and figured it’d be an amazing distraction from the previous fiasco at the lake. Besides, Mel invited me to be her bunkbed buddy, so there’s no harm, right?
Cole probably won’t even be there, as I checked TRIGGER’s schedule before I signed up, and they definitely have a show the day after we leave. No way they’re going to go back and forth like that.
So with a placated heart, I hop into my car and drive to school, where a bus is already waiting on the parking lot. I quickly grab my bag and run toward the last teacher standing outside.
“You’re late, Miss Romero.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “My mom was holding me up.”
The man doesn’t seem impressed. “We’re about to leave.” He cocks his head at the door. “Get in and find a seat.”
“Thanks,” I say, and I hop in and breathe a sigh of relief.
But that sigh is silently suffocated by my own esophagus.
Cole Travis is sitting right there, on a seat in the back. Next to the only free seat by the window.
Fuck.
He eyes me with a slanted head, and he touches the tip of his nose before grinning at his band buddies who are right there in the back with him. When I grip the chair, he narrows his eyes at me, almost as if to dare me to come and sit down next to him.
He knows I hate him, and he knows I’m about this close to running out and telling the teacher I’ve changed my mind. But I can do this. I told myself I got this. I told my mother. I can’t back down now.
So I march forward, clutching my bag, not giving him an inch of my resolve. The look in his eyes is brutal. It’s as though he wants to either kill me or fuck the living shit out of me. I’m not sure which is closer to the truth, and it makes my heart palpitate.
It still won’t stop me from sliding along his thick, muscular legs to sit my ass right down next to his.
I put my bag underneath the seat and look the other way toward the window. But even then it’s impossible to escape Cole’s blistering gaze.
“Thanks for shoving your ass in my face,” he says. “I enjoyed that.”
My face turns ungodly red, but I try to hide it behind a curtain of hair. He’s just teasing me because in his sick, twisted fantasy, it’s some enjoyable form of passing the time.
“Who said you could sit there?” he growls.
“I have a right to a seat, just like you,” I retort. “And since you conveniently left this only spot open, I took it. Guess no one else wanted to sit next to you, huh?”
“Bold move,” he replies, laughing it off as if my comment doesn’t even faze him. “And you thought that was a good idea?”
I shrug. “I’m going on this trip, whether you like it or not.”
Cole snorts. “Again you thought that was a good idea?” His tongue quickly darts out to lick his lip, and it still manages to catch my attention, despite the fact that I’m doing my very best not to look.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” I retort. “Because I assumed you weren’t going to be there.”
A short but unmistakable laugh leaves his mouth as he shakes his head. “You assume too much, Mo.”
“Really? Then that performance you and TRIGGER were supposed to have tomorrow suddenly vanished into thin air?” I reply, folding my arms.
He laughs. “Yeah … except it got canceled at the last minute.”
Well, fuck.
He leans back in his seat and gazes at me with a puzzled but amused look on his face. “I’m impressed. You actually checked out our schedule?”
My body turns stone cold, and my face probably shows it too.
“Interesting,” he adds, making it even harder for me to recover from my embarrassment. “Anything else you want to admit to? Or is that all the stalking you did?”
“Jesus.” I make a face at him. “I am not stalking you. Please, as if I don’t have anything better to do.”
“Like what?” he leans forward, gazing at me with that same devious look tha
t predicts trouble. “Tell me … I’d love to know.”
Cole
“As if I’d ever tell you,” she replies, obviously upset that I hit a chord.
She knows as well as I do she’s thought about me. After the way I touched her, it’d be hard not to.
I lean in so close my lips are almost on her ear. “Let me guess, you can’t because it’s too inappropriate for the rest of the class to hear.”
She gulps. She knows what I’m insinuating, and the thought has probably crossed her mind several times. But she won’t admit that to me, of course. Not yet.
“You wish, Cole Travis,” she spits back. “Stop messing with me.”
I cock my head. “Now why would I do that?”
“You just love it, don’t you?” she rebukes, leaning away from me with disdain. “Everything is a game to you.”
She’s right. I love this game. I love seeing her break. And I love picking up the pieces that fall. Because it’s interesting. Exciting. New.
Girls normally fall at their feet for me, but not her.
She refuses to give in, doesn’t lose her resolve when I try so hard to make her yield.
Maybe that’s what makes me come back for more again and again, despite knowing it’s bad for both of us. But I just can’t stop myself.
I need more.
I need to know what makes her who she is.
“Tell me the truth then,” I say. “Tell me you don’t like me. That you don’t want me. And I’ll stay out of your way.”
She blows out a breath, but it takes her a while to form a response. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“That’s not an answer to what I asked, and you know it,” I reply, gazing at her. “You can’t say it, can you?”
She makes a face, smothering her lips together in that cute, angry way she always does. Like she wants to punch the shit out of someone but won’t because she can’t. Which is exactly how I feel when I’m around her.
“Fine. Yes. I felt something that night at the lake. Happy now?” she retorts, clearly on edge. “Go on, add me to your long list of conquests. I don’t fucking care anymore.”
I frown. Is that why she pushed me away that night? Why she called me an asshole? Or is there more?
Rowdy Boy (A High School Bully Romance): Black Mountain Academy Page 13