The Way You Love Me: A High School Bully Romance

by Lannah Smith

  "Aren't you guys going to come to school?"

  John shifted his phone to his other ear and reached for a bottle of water in the fridge. "I'm trying to get him to go to school."

  "Damn. Want me to come over?"

  "Rohan's going to kick your ass if you will."

  Skull chuckled. "No. He'll try to kick my ass. Have you been the receiving end of that kid's punch? It's like he's patting me."

  "He's been attending martial arts classes though," he pointed out. "And Leon's also training him. It won't be long before he'll feel like getting hit by a ton of bricks."

  "Then I'll look forward to having a fight with him," Skull said, his tone brimming in amusement.

  John frowned and looked at Leon again. He hadn't moved. A familiar pain John always felt whenever he saw his best friend listless like this slashed through his gut. With a low exhale, he went to the couch and offered him the bottle of water. Leon took it and slowly sat up, uncapping the lid.

  "Skull's asking if you plan to go to school today," John informed him.

  Leon shrugged and took a long pull.

  "It's been two weeks since school started and we've only gone once. James will have our heads."

  "I didn't tell you not to go," he grumbled, lying down again.

  John gritted his teeth.

  How the hell could he leave him alone after what he'd done to himself?

  It had been over a month since he found out Leon had been going to the Den again. He'd been secretly going since he was fourteen until John found out and put a stop to it. And as far as John knew, Leon didn't return to that place ever again.

  But he wasn't going to take any chances anymore. Not with Leon.

  The Den was a secret underground fighting club. People who went there fought because they loved to fight or see blood and carnage. There were no rules. Money had no place and survival was the top rule. It was a very dangerous place. One could either sustain injuries from the opponent or from the drunk, violent crowd. No one survived that place unscathed.

  John didn't know how Leon found out about that place. He just knew that the person who introduced the Den to his best friend would definitely wish he wasn't born when John was fucking done with him.

  "Let me talk to him," Skull suggested.

  Disgruntled, John wordlessly handed Leon his phone. Leon stared at it for a few seconds before taking it. John sat on the couch beside him, put his feet on the coffee table and stared at the television.

  "What?" he heard Leon grunted.

  Leon grew quiet as he listened to whatever Skull was telling him. John closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn't able to sleep well last night. Movement on the couch made him made him open his eyes. Leon was getting up.

  "Here," Leon said, giving him his phone back.

  "Where are you going?" he asked.

  "To change."

  John blinked twice.

  Then he asked, "Why?"

  "I'm going to school." Leon looked down at him blankly and went on, "Move your feet."

  Dumbfounded, John put his feet down and Leon went to his bedroom. When he closed the door behind him, John put his phone to his ear and asked, "How the hell did you do it?"

  "It's a secret," came Skull's smug reply.

  "I'll tell your grandparents you've been cutting classes again if you don't tell me right this instant."

  Skull growled, "Low blow, man."

  "Well?" he prompted impatiently.

  "I just told him I'll help him get you off his back if he came to school."

  That stung.

  John glared at the door of Leon's room.

  So he was nothing but a nuisance to him now, huh? Well, fuck him. He wasn't going to stop taking care of him.

  "You know, John. I think it's time again."

  The seriousness in Skull's tone gained John's complete attention.

  "Time for what?"

  "You know what."

  John's body jolted, like he'd been hit by lightning, and he leaned forward on the couch.

  "No," he muttered through clenched teeth. "No. We can't keep doing it, Skull."

  "It'll help get him out of his shitty mood," Skull argued. "Keep him busy and sharp."

  "It'll only make him worse."

  "Just... just think about it, alright?" Skull advised. "It's worked before. Shit, it's worked over and over again. If you have another plan, I'm all ears. But you have to do something, John."

  John exhaled and sagged against the couch cushions.

  He knew he had to do something.

  He needed to do something to make his best friend feel alive again.

  He knew.

  But not like this.

  "I'll think about it," John grunted. "But you know I don't like doing this shit."

  "Neither do I, John."

  He blew a disbelieving breath. He wanted to believe Skull did care but he was only suggesting it for his own benefit. John's gaze swept the couch to look for the remote but then he realized something. He looked at his wristwatch.

  "Wait a minute," he murmured. "Don't you have Literature right now?"

  There was a short pause on the other line.

  "I took a smoke break," Skull grumbled.

  John chuckled. "You don't smoke."

  "Doesn't mean I can't have a break."

  "And since when did East Private School have smoke breaks?"

  "Didn't I tell you? They just changed the rules."

  John scoffed and was about to call his bullshit when he heard Rohan yelling over the line.

  "Skull, you fucking walnut! Get back to class right now!"

  "Shit, I got caught," Skull muttered before shouting, "Piss off! I'm skipping."

  "You'll what?" Rohan sounded indignant. "That's it. I'm calling your grandparents."

  "I was kidding!" he yelled, panicking. "Got to go, John. I'll see you at lunch."

  John grinned. "Right."

  "Skull!"

  "Coming, my leech!"

  "It's liege, you dumb–"

  John burst into laughter when the line went dead.

  "You know, I'm still mad at you for not telling me Haru came home."

  I was counting the notebooks on the table to check if everyone had given theirs when Hannah said those words. My eyes swung to her before their meaning could register.

  "What?" I asked.

  Hannah exhaled impatiently and picked one of the two piles of notebooks off the table. It was lunchtime and being the class president, I was tasked by the teacher to collect everyone's homework and pass them to the faculty. It wasn't a difficult task. One word from me and everyone would immediately comply. I just wanted to make sure I had everyone's.

  "Haru? Your brother? You didn't tell me he was home."

  My fingers curled into my palms tightly and briefly.

  Sophia took that moment to put her notebook on the pile left on the table. "Sorry, I forgot," she breathed.

  I uncurled my fingers and gave her a tight smile. "It's okay."

  Pulling in breath, I picked the other pile and moved to the door. Hannah followed me, after telling Sophia goodbye, which she ignored.

  "Did Haru really return to Japan already?" Hannah asked as soon as we were out of the classroom.

  I forced a tranquil expression on my face. "Yes," I answered.

  "For good? I thought you said he was going to college here in America?"

  I bit back the desire to lie to her, to tell her it was for good. And that he was nothing but a sociopath and I wished he was dead.

  I bit back the desire because she looked so disappointed and I loved her.

  Hannah didn't know.

  About Haru. About my mother. About the abuse I suffered in their hands.

  And I planned to keep it that way.

  "He is. I think. I'm not really aware of his plans," I murmured.

  My cell phone vibrated in my pocket as we went down the stairs. Shifting the notebooks I carried to my other arm so I could retrie
ve my phone, I checked the message on the screen.

  "You should have told me he was here," Hannah whined. "You know I have a big crush on him."

  "I thought you've outgrown that crush by now," I said with a sigh. "It's been 2 years since you last saw him."

  "Because I have really rotten timing. Everytime he comes to visit, I'm out of town with my family." Her eyes began to narrow into green slits. "Or you don't let me know."

  I clenched my jaw and checked the message on the screen again. I didn't like talking about Haru. Hearing his name made me feel sick.

  "You know how busy he is," I explained. "He doesn't even have time for me anymore."

  "I want to see how hot he looks right now. He doesn't even have Facebook."

  "I don't, either."

  "Which is abnormal," she retorted, happy and teasing. "What teenage girl doesn't have Facebook? Or Twitter? Or Instagram for that matter? Do you even have an email address?"

  "You know I do. But it's only for—"

  "Official business, I know." She sidled close to me and peered at my phone. "Who's the message from anyway?"

  "My tutor." A pair of guys was passing a basketball in the middle of the hall and I glowered at them to make them stop. They instantly did. "He said he couldn't make it today because he has somewhere urgent to be," I went on.

  Hannah grinned and wagged her eyebrows at me. "How unfortunate."

  I wrinkled my nose at her. "Shut up. Anyway I'm going to meet him after lunch to get some reference books from him."

  "How fortunate."

  "Shut up!"

  She laughed and I resisted the urge to smack her head with my phone. I rolled my eyes instead and put my phone back in my pocket. But as I did so, the notebooks in my arm tumbled over and fell to the floor.

  "Damn it," I muttered, sitting down on my heels.

  "Want help?" Hannah asked.

  "No. You go to the faculty room first. I'll meet you in the cafeteria after."

  "Sure?"

  I glared at her. "Just go."

  With a giggle, she spun on her heels and continued down the hall. Shaking my head, I started to pick up the strewn notebooks on the floor, thinking about how immature she could be.

  "Look, it's them."

  "Shit. Let's go back to class."

  "They're here."

  The hushed and scared whispers interrupted my musing. I turned to see the sudden stream of students into the hall. Surprised, I jerked my head to the entrance of the school building where I saw more students come inside even though they'd be usually out having lunch in the quad or the school lawn. Alarm bells rang into my head when I saw how terrified they were.

  "Watch it!" I snapped when some of the notebooks were pushed further away by their feet.

  The hall was soon unusually empty and quiet. My alarm turned into fear and I gathered the notebooks into my arms faster. Footsteps echoed in the hall behind me but my mind had become blank with panic, my body numbed in fear. I froze.

  Two pairs of boots appeared in my line of vision.

  I stopped breathing.

  One of them continued to walk.

  The other stopped.

  And I knew whose it was.

  I had only one notebook left to pick up. But it was right in front of those pair of boots, just mere inches from them. I watched as a boot lifted and nudge the notebook closer to me.

  I didn't look up.

  I was too afraid to see the expression on his face.

  Unbidden, the memories of that night came to my mind. That night I tried so hard to forget. The memories that kept me awake at night, reminiscing every detail over and over again. The memories that helped me through my mother's verbal abuse before she left with Haru. The memories, pleasant, sweet and exquisite. The memories of my biggest mistake in life.

  He walked past me without a word. When his footsteps faded away, I started breathing again. Standing up on shaky legs, I continued to the faculty.

  As if nothing had happened.

  Chapter 5

  Nine years ago, John and Terry at age seven

  "You're here again."

  Terry looked up from the book she was reading. John entered the room, a smirk on his face. She scowled.

  "Good afternoon," she mumbled, trying to muster some politeness in her tone. He was, after all, the son of her parents' important business associate. Her mother had punished her severely for kicking him before. She didn't want to be punished again. "Is there anything I can do for you, John?"

  John's smirk widened. "You look like you just swallowed a frog," he commented.

  "I actually prefer to eat frogs than to be in your company but we can't have everything we want, can we?" she said with a saccharine smile on her lips.

  "Oh, but I can have whatever I want." John sat next to her, so close that she had to pull her skirt free from under his legs. "I only have to say a word."

  Terry looked away. "Lucky you," she muttered softly.

  She picked up her book again and started reading. She was aware the little brat was staring at her but she didn't care. If she had to suffer his company, then he'd have to suffer her silence too.

  John broke it, however, by taking her book. "Isn't this a high school textbook?" he asked in astonishment. "Aren't you a little young to be reading it? Shouldn't you be reading fairy tales instead?"

  Snatching it back, Terry scooted backwards on the sofa and gave him another well-placed glare.

  "My mother doesn't like me reading fairy tales," she answered. "She says they will rot my brain."

  John laughed. "Rot your brain? That's insane." He stopped laughing and studied her for a moment. "Come with me," he finally said, taking her hand.

  Surprised by his sudden familiarity, Terry let herself be pulled by John outside the room and to the hall. After what seemed like a long walk around his mansion, meandering different halls, turning corridors and climbing stairs, they finally reached their destination.

  With a grin, John nodded at the maid following them. The maid opened the door and gestured them in. Terry gasped in delight. Shelves and shelves of books towered inside the massive room. John went to one shelf and picked up a book. Beckoning to her, he made her sit on a velvet sofa and gave it to her. It was the Grimm's Fairy Tales.

  "My mother won't like me reading this," she muttered more to herself than to him. "She really won't like this."

  "She isn't here, is she?" Terry glanced at him. He was sitting on an armchair beside her, an elbow to the arm, fist to the side of his face, observing her. "You can read anything you want here."

  "Why?" she blurted out. Suspicious, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you trying to get me into trouble? I already apologize for kicking you but if you haven't insulted me by calling me names and comparing me to Sadako then I wouldn't have done it."

  "We're friends, aren't we?"

  Terry went mum, bewildered by his reply. Or was it because of the smile that graced his features, genuine and kind, devoid of his usual arrogance?

  "I like you, Terry. And I want to be your friend."

  The cafeteria was filled with nervous chatter and whispers when I walked in. Heading to the table where Hannah was, I noted the tense atmosphere, the nervous looks and pale faces. I pursed my lips and continued to walk to the table where Hannah was, ramrod straight, one foot in front of the other, just like I learned in etiquette class. I was still shaken by the encounter with John earlier but I was damned if I'd let it show.

  Hannah looked up and smiled tremulously when she spotted me. She waved the empty space beside her and I took it.

  "Thanks for getting me my food, Hannah," I told her as I picked up the fork from the tray.

  She leaned into me and murmured, "Did you hear the news, Terry?"

  My eyes went to her. "What news?"

  Across the table, Mary and Cecil, two friends of the same year, stopped whispering at each other and looked at us. They both had brown hair, both on the short and chubby side and looked like they could be
sisters except Cecil had brown eyes while Mary had blue.