The Way You Love Me: A High School Bully Romance

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The Way You Love Me: A High School Bully Romance Page 29

by Lannah Smith


  Skull mulled over the answer he gave him. "Then why didn't you just say so?"

  "I didn't want to talk about it. Do you know how much damage that one dance cost me? It's all over school and because of that my harem's dwindling."

  "Manwhore," Skull muttered.

  "Hey, you're the one who couldn't keep it in his pants at Evan's party," he replied tersely. "So shut the fuck up."

  "And if I won't?"

  "I got Rohan on speed dial."

  Skull sucked in breath. "I'll shut up."

  My stomach growled.

  I stopped writing and looked at the time on my wristwatch. I hadn't even noticed it was getting late. I looked around the office and saw that the rest of the year representatives were missing from their tables. Frowning, I started to stand up, only to notice the hastily written note taped on the topmost edge of my computer

  I seized the note and read it.

  Out to get some supplies. And to find Jack. We'll be back in a few. You seemed busy so we didn't disturb you. – Kirsten & Carol

  Still holding the note, I went to the windows and parted the curtains. The sun had set and it was already dark outside. I checked the time again. We were supposed to have a meeting an hour ago about the school activity next week but with Jack missing, we couldn't start.

  Jack was toast when I see him, I thought irritably. He was always ruining our schedule

  Leaning against the window sill, I folded my arms over my chest, my gaze on the night sky. The sight of the moon calmed me and I remembered how much I loved staring at the moon. When I was a child, I'd sometimes sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to lie in the gardens.

  The door opened and I felt a presence hit the room but stopped in the doorway.

  "Did you find him?" I told the window.

  There was no answer.

  My eyes slid to the door and my mouth opened to say something but the words and my breath got clogged in my throat when I saw John. He closed the door behind him and took a step inside the room.

  I said not a word and didn't move.

  I stared at him.

  He stared back.

  When I was about to say something, do something, maybe even shout at him to leave the office, he got there before me.

  "You ready to start that conversation?"

  I blinked.

  Then I whispered, "Sorry?"

  Dang it, but what was he still doing here in school?

  He and his friends were usually gone even before the class hours were over.

  It hit me then that he'd crossed the office and was getting close. I stopped thinking about why he was still here and started retreating.

  But I was too slow. He was already right there in front of me. He leaned in, settling his hands on the window on either side of me.

  "Conversation, Terry." His deep voice made my heart, already beating fast, started to pound. "I told you we'd have a normal conversation. And I want to know if you're ready to do it now."

  Chapter 20

  It was like Leon had read his mind.

  After dropping Skull at his place, John was driving along Sophia's street when Leon sent him a text message, saying he had left his book at school.

  A book? You're sending me back to school for a book? He had angrily replied to the message.

  It's a very important book, Leon replied back.

  Dude, do you even own a book?

  Fuck you. Just go look for it.

  So here he was, in fucking school after fucking class hours, searching for this book. John rummaged around their classroom, looked under the tables and shelves, and even between the computers and CPUs. But the book, entitled 'Mathematics for the Great', or so Leon had said was the title, remained elusive.

  He straightened up and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  Damn it. Was he being played?

  He definitely was.

  Damn it.

  John pulled his cell phone from his pocket and sent Leon a text.

  I don't see it here, Leon.

  It didn't take Leon a minute to reply.

  Huh. Guess I was wrong. You can go home.

  You fucker.

  Pissed off, John slid his phone back in his pocket and went for the door. He swung the door open and walked through the dark halls. He looked at his wristwatch. Dinner was probably underway at Sophia's house. And if his best friend could text him, he was probably fine and doing well on his own.

  It was cold and there was a slight breeze when he stepped out of the building. He zipped his jacket up and put his hands into its pockets. The moon had already risen, a waxing crescent in the night sky, and the sight served to piss John off even more.

  He was almost at the parking lot when he noticed one of the curtains rustle in the high school building. Most of the windows were dark but its light was on. He stopped walking when he saw a slender hand pull the curtain back in what he knew was the SRC office and his breath left him when he saw the face that haunted him even when he was awake.

  Yukiko.

  He whispered her name softly.

  Terry.

  Then the anger boiling inside him simmered and burst.

  Seeing her face, a decision he'd made in the truck while Skull was talking his head off cemented in his brain.

  His jaw grew tight.

  He and Terry were going to talk.

  And they were going to do it now.

  Turning around, John went inside the building and took the stairs two at the time. He stomped through the halls, his hands clenching and unclenching. All week, he tried to approach her, tried to talk to her but she avoided him in an expertise he couldn't help but grudgingly admire. He even went in the cafeteria yesterday so he could ambush her but she wasn't there. And he was getting desperate.

  Then he was at the door.

  Then he was turning the knob and pushing it open, not bothering to knock.

  "Did you find him?" she said, still staring through the window.

  Her voice was soft and her body, he knew was also soft, was leaning against the window. There was no one else in the room but the two of them.

  His jaw grew tighter and his resolve grew firmer.

  Yes, they were fucking well going to talk.

  Terry turned when he didn't speak. When she saw him, her eyes widened and her lips parted. She was too stunned to say anything so he took it as his cue to step inside and close the door behind him, locking it.

  He regarded her silently for a moment.

  Then he said, "You ready to start that conversation?"

  She blinked.

  Then she breathed, "Sorry?"

  With a growl, he moved towards her. Panic settled in her features and she started to move. He had no idea where she was going, just that it was away from him and he was having none of that. He negated any attempt at retreating and closed in, pinning her against the window by putting his hands on both sides of her on the pane.

  "Conversation, Terry," he said curtly. "I told you we'd have a normal conversation. And I want to know if you're ready to do it now."

  She stared at him, her lips still parted.

  Then her face became as cold as her voice.

  "Step back."

  Hell, what was going through that head of hers now?

  "No," he said, not letting go.

  Her hands shoved at his shoulders angrily.

  "Step back," she hissed. "Now."

  "Look, I know it's my fault—"

  "Of course it is."

  "—but if you would just let me explain—"

  "The time for explanations had expired a long time ago, Steele."

  He wanted to shake her.

  Why couldn't she just listen to him?

  "Terry—" he tried again but got cut-off once more.

  "Don't call me that!" She shoved again. "I'm Evans to you, right?"

  His temper started rising. "Are you mad because of that?"

  She hesitated and shook her head. "No. I don't know. I just want
you to leave me alone."

  "Not happening, Terry."

  "Oh, my God." She glared at him. "You're such a jerk!"

  "What's wrong with calling you by your given name?" he growled.

  "What's... what's wrong?" she stuttered, giving him another shove. "You're what's wrong! You being in my life is what's wrong! I don't want you calling me Terry. I don't want you calling me Yukiko. I don't want you calling me anything because I don't want to hear my name from your lips!"

  No, his temper wasn't rising.

  It had exploded.

  "Why wouldn't you just listen to me?" he yelled.

  She froze against him.

  And suddenly, her face changed.

  Anguish tore through it and with it came so much pain that he jerked back in surprise.

  She grew pale and there was a tightness about her eyes that was heartbreaking.

  And her hands were clenched into permanent fists.

  She shoved him again and he let her go, still stunned by everything he saw. She took two steps away, stopped and whirled on him.

  "You don't know why I wouldn't listen to you?" she whispered. "You don't know?"

  John realized his mistake.

  He shouldn't have let his temper loose and tried to be more patient with her.

  So he tried to instigate damage control.

  "Evans—" he started but she kept talking.

  "I trusted you," her voice cracked, sadness clogging her throat. "I trusted you, John. But you broke that trust. And you ask me why I wouldn't just listen to you?"

  Her words were taking effort but she kept going, needing to say them so John stood where he was and let her.

  "You... you gave me friendship and then you yanked it right away from me. And I'm so sick of people toying with me like that, playing games with my heart."

  She stopped talking, looked him straight into the eyes and did it breathing hard. The pain was stark in her eyes right alongside the fury.

  "You're an asshole, John. And it was good to know early that you're an asshole."

  John's body went completely still.

  She was standing there, her hands balled into fists.

  It was his fault.

  He was an asshole.

  And he was going to fix this.

  "Let me explain," John said quietly.

  "Too little too late," she replied just as quietly, shaking her head.

  "I know I fucked up. I fucked up bad but I didn't want any of this, Evans. I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want to lose you."

  "I don't need your excuses."

  He got closer, she stepped back.

  Then, as if unable to stop herself, she said, "I don't even know why you're pushing this. It's all in the past."

  "You seriously don't know?" his voice sounded with incredulity.

  "Not a clue," she clipped.

  "Didn't I tell you?"

  "I don't care to remember."

  He leaned into her and she held her ground, glaring at him.

  Quietly, he reminded her. "It's because I like you."

  He watched the color hit her cheeks.

  "What?" she breathed out.

  John studied her reaction.

  Then he repeated, "I like you, Terry. Always have."

  She shook her head in disbelief. "This is because I had sex with you? You're acting like you're the virgin—"

  "It was the best sex I've ever had because it was you," he told her fervently. "And it was the best night I've ever had because I spent it loving you."

  She threw her head back and laughed bitterly.

  And the sound was ugly to John's ears.

  "Now you love me?" Her gaze returned to his. Tears started to gather in them. "You're such a liar, Steele. Such a fucking liar."

  "Terry—"

  She cut him off coldly, "I liked you too, you know. When we were children. In fact, you were my first love. So forgive me if I can never forgive you for breaking my little heart."

  John's throat grew tight.

  Fuck him.

  Fuck him.

  He should have never listened to his mother.

  Damn it, he had some serious fucking work to do. If only she'd let him.

  John held Terry's eyes and she returned the gesture.

  They did this for a long time.

  Before he could say anything, do anything for her to forgive him, to make her listen to him, there were quick rapping on the door. Terry's expression turned to panic and she looked at the door before looking back at him again. John crossed the distance between them and wrapped his hands round the sides of her neck, his thumbs moving out to stroke her cheeks.

  "Steele Towers. The greenery. Tomorrow at 3 o'clock. I'll be waiting for you."

  "What?" she asked in confusion, tears still glistening in her eyes.

  "I'll explain everything to you tomorrow so please come." The knocking grew insistent. "Please, Evans. I won't lie to you anymore. Please, please give me a chance to set things right."

  Her eyes hardened. "Steele—"

  He leaned in and kissed her hard, effectively cutting off her protest, telling her without words to believe that he was telling her the truth.

  Then John let her go and went out of the window.

  My heart seemed to have stopped beating.

  Frantic, I looked out the window and searched for him.

  That moron.

  That stupid, crazy moron!

  This was the third floor. What the hell was he thinking, jumping out like that?

  John looked up at me from the ground.

  Safe and completely unharmed.

  He even managed to give me a little wave, the insane ass!

  In anger, combined with relief, I pulled the curtains together rather harshly, making the thin rods clang against the wall. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hands and pulled in a shaky breath.

  Damn it.

  Damn him.

  Only he could make my emotions such a chaotic mess.

  But it didn't matter. He didn't matter anymore. When crap mattered, it could hurt you. So he didn't matter anymore and I was determined to keep it that way.

  The knocking finally took my attention and I glanced at the mirror on the wall to see if I still had tears in my eyes before I crossed the room in three steps to open the door.

  Jack stood in the doorway, his hands deep into his hood's pocket. His blond hair was sticking out in all directions, indication that he had been sleeping.

  "What the fuck took you so long?" he grumbled.

  "I was asleep," I muttered, stepping aside to let him in. "And where were you?"

  He looked at me and his brows went up. "Your face looks red. And you sound like you've been running a marathon."

  "And you just ignored my question."

  He grinned and his eyes went to the window. "I don't think you were sleeping."

  "Whatever." Irritably, I grabbed my phone to call Carol and Kirsten to tell them the bum was back. "And the next time you make us look for you, I will slam a book into your head, got that?"

  "Books are expensive. And blood is hard to clean, especially off paper."

  I picked up a book, testing its weight.

  Jack immediately went to his table.

  "That's basically a date, Terry," Iris said in my ear.

  My lip curled and I pushed up the bed to rest my back against the headboard. "No, it's not. And I didn't even agree to it."

  "You said you kissed him back," she pointed out. "I think that was a yes."

  "W-What? No!" I stammered, feeling the heat creep up my face. "I said I wasn't sure if I kissed him back or not."

  "I bet you did. And I bet you felt his body up while you were smooching him."

  "Hello? Am I speaking to Hannah?"

 

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