Caught by the Bad Boys Series

by Raathi Chota

  “Actually, sir, William Shakespeare died Apr—”

  “April 23rd, 1616, sir,” Carter cut Lana off. She glared at him while he smirked at her.

  “Thank you, Mr. Halls and Miss Willson…” Mr. Goodman sighed.

  Aidan was lost in his thoughts as he glanced at Carter, who hung out the window as he shouted. He remembered when he used to play pranks on Lana with Parker and Austin.

  “She’s coming!” Parker said as he rushed in the hall. “Good…everyone make way, make way!” Aidan shouted as Austin set up.

  “You guys are going to be in deep shit.” Ethan laughed as he watched Aidan, Parker, and Austin remove their clothes.

  “Here she comes!” Austin grinned as he stood beside Aidan. Lana entered the hallway to see a big slip and slide run through the corridor; her eyes widened as Aidan and Austin took her by the hands.

  “What are you guys—” She cut off when Parker ran and slid down the hall as students poured buckets of water to make it slippery.

  “Come on, Willson!” Aidan said as the three of them stood in front of the slip and slide. Austin shoved her down to the ground and pushed her. She noticed Aidan held her hand the whole time.

  “Aidan, I’m going to kill you!”

  Aidan smiled at the memory along with the rest of the pranks. “Where are you, Lana Willson?”

  ***

  Lana

  “What’s a pretty thing like you doing on this side of town?” a deep voice asked. Lana turned her head toward the deep voice. It was a man, more like a perverted homeless guy. He had a ginger beard and a long nose and wore an old beanie and a big sweater. Lana realized she was in an industrial area. Even though all the buildings were locked up for the night, there were still creeps that lurked around trying to find shelter.

  “I…I…” Lana mumbled as she swallowed the lump in her throat. The guy stepped closer, which only made her nervous. “Please, I…” she stuttered as the man stood right in her face. Her back hit the wall as the man breathed on her neck. He took his hand and gently stroked her cheek. She used all her energy and pushed him off her, but he was fast and gripped her arm. “You’re hurting me,” she said as she tried to pull away. Lana didn’t need this; she was angry and devastated that her friends used her, and she didn’t need the man to cause trouble.

  “Oh, baby, I didn’t get to that part yet,” the guy whispered in her ear. She took the chance and slapped him. He shoved her, which made her land into a puddle; her dress was ruined. “You bitch!” he yelled as he came closer to her. She quickly got up and picked up her stiletto heel. She didn’t know where the other one was. Her dad had taught her self-defense. Lana hit the man with her heel; the end was sharp as she repeatedly moved her arm. Her grip tightened as she thought about the past two weeks. Everything came out as she used all her energy on him. “You’re hurting me!” he shouted as he tried to take the heel from her hand.

  “That’s the whole point, you asshole!” Lana shouted as she shut her eyes. She hit the guy repeatedly as she held his one arm; the other arm he used for cover but failed. Lana heard a scream and a weird sound. Her eyes shot open, and she wished didn’t open them. The guy had blood sprout out from his head; she didn’t realize she hit him that hard. She looked down to see blood all over her wet, soggy dress. Her hands were covered in blood too as she looked at the shoe.

  “I’m gonna—” the guy shouted, but Lana picked up her dress and ran off with the heel in her hand. Tears streamed down her face as she ran. Lana couldn’t believe she stabbed the guy. It was their fault, she thought as she ran. She felt blisters on her feet, which made it worse. After ten minutes, she stopped to catch her breath. A car stopped beside her, and the driver stared at her in horror as she did the same. Lana collapsed to the ground as her legs buckled; she knew her body would be sore tomorrow. She felt two arms scoop her up. She was carried to the car and placed in the passenger seat. The heel was still in her hand as she observed it; it had blood all over it. She glanced down at her dress to see it was ripped, wet, and crumpled.

  “What happened to you?” Benny asked as he looked at her. He didn’t start the car, so Lana knew she had to tell him. She saw him at Homecoming. He still wore his suit, but she couldn’t wrap her head around as to why he was here.

  “Nothing,” Lana mumbled as she looked anywhere but at the boy who bullied her yet saved her.

  “Bullshit, Lana. You have blood everywhere. What the fuck happened?” Benny asked as he reached for her hand to comfort her. Lana pulled away, and Benny awkwardly did the same.

  “I was defending myself,” Lana whispered as she referred to the chipped heel. “Please, Benny, take me home.” She trembled. He nodded and started the engine. They drove in silence, clouded in their thoughts.

  ***

  Blake

  Blake didn’t move; he was still at school. He sat on his motorcycle as he smoked a cigarette. So many thoughts ran through his mind. He wanted to look for her, but he didn’t know where to look. Even if he did find her, what would he tell her? He knew she’d find out somehow, but he didn’t want her to find out and run off. Especially when she wore a stunning dress and big heels. He thought of how he danced with her an hour ago, how everything was perfect and no worries seemed to linger in the air. It was weird that one moment everything would be perfect, next moment everything crumbled. Lana seemed to brighten up his life in a way. He always had girls throwing themselves at him, but she seemed to sit back and watch. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, especially in P.E. She was a nerd, but she was better than half the class, the way she was so focused and determined. Blake went home every day and thought about Lana, how she managed to pull off an innocent look, yet she was anything but innocent. He knew that she needed a push and a little encouragement to show who she really was. Blake wouldn’t rest until he figured her out. How she smoked so well, was a good liar, a good athlete, and the one that seemed to bother him the most—that she wasn’t a virgin. He asked the guys, but they didn’t know, and it was a shock to them too. Blake’s mind traveled to when she was drunk. How innocent and clumsy she was. He was surprised when she asked to sleep with him; if she were sobered, then she’d care, but she didn’t. He remembered the talks they had, how close their bodies were. She still had her outfit on, which turned Blake on even more. He adored when she got nervous, and her glasses fell to her nose, how her cheeks turned red when she blushed, her sassiness but also her kind-heartedness. The kiss they shared that night of the drugs, how she gladly kissed him back. All the things that happened the past two weeks made Blake realize that he’d fallen in love.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lana

  “Thank you,” I mumbled as we approached my house. I looked at my home as I thought what lie I’d tell my parents, because they’d obviously have questions as to why I looked like I’d got hit five times then forced to run into the woods.

  “No problem. So are you going to tell me what happened?” Benny asked as the car came to a stop. I looked at the guy who tortured me for the past eight years. I had so many questions to ask him, but it was already late.

  “Not today, Benny.” I sighed as I gripped the door handle.

  “Okay, well, good night, and I’m not letting this go, Lana.”

  “Good night,” I said. I got out and shut the door. I didn’t look back as I walked up the porch. I gripped the heel in one hand and picked up my dress with the other. I glanced back to see Benny was still there. The windows were tinted, but I knew he looked at me. I opened the front door as quietly as I could and walked inside. As I closed the door, I heard footsteps. I cursed as I turned around.

  “Lana, dear, how was your—” my mother said as she walked closer to me. “Baby, what happened to you? You look horrible!”

  “Just some prank one of the guys pulled.”

  “But your dress is ruined and your shoe—”

  “Mom, I’m tired. Can we deal with this tomorrow?”

  “Lana, you look like you’ve just been
dragged through woods and stomped on by giants, not attending a school dance.”

  “I fell, Mom,” I lied, even though the tilt of her head and pout told me she wanted more than that. “I broke my heels and scraped my knee. When I tried to regain myself, I just made it worse by getting the blood on my dress.”

  “Where did you fall? Where was Carter or Miranda? Do you want me to take a look at it?”

  “I’m fine, Mom,” I mumbled and grabbed the railing, pushing myself up the stairs before she could get to me. “It’s not that bad, so I can manage.”

  Once I got to the top, I ran to my room, then shut the door. I wanted to scream and pull my hair out. We started to become comfortable with each other after the drug situation, but it felt like a truck had hit me. I slouched down and brought my knees to my chest, then looked at the heel. It wasn’t even silver anymore; the end of the heel was chipped with blood on it; the rest of the shoe was blood red. I couldn’t believe that I had done that… I still remembered his face clearly when I stabbed him. It looked like someone shot him in the forehead and the blood oozed down his face, but no, I stabbed the guy.

  All because of them, everything was a lie. From the start, I knew something was fishy. Suddenly, they dragged me to the end of the school to make a bet with me—why me? Couldn’t they choose Kelly or Melissa? Not now, in senior year, when it’s the most crucial year of my life. I should focus on school and college.

  I glanced up to see the poster on my wall; it was the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I still remembered Blake bought that for me since I was a big fan. At the corners of the poster, I saw an outline of something. I got up and walked closer to it. I remembered when he gave it to me, that I didn’t have anywhere to put it, so I put it on another poster. It was a quote that I put up before senior year started; it was one of my favorite quotes. I slowly pulled off the Red Hot Chili Peppers poster and read the quote that I lived by for the past ten years.

  I observed my room; it looked horrible. I always had everything in place, but it currently looked like a nuclear bomb exploded in my room. Makeup on the table, shoes out of the closet, books everywhere, clothes sprawled on my bed. I walked to my clipboard that hung above my desk. It had a few knickknacks, but what really caught my eye was the picture of Carter, Aidan, Blake, Mr. George, and I when we were in detention. Carter and I pulled funny faces, and Aidan grinned while he looked at Mr. George, who had the penis drawn on his face. Blake smiled with the cigarette between his teeth, but his gaze was on me. I shook my head and turned the picture around, so it didn’t face me.

  I cleaned up my room while I thought where to put the heel. I couldn’t throw it in the trash because Dad emptied it out every Friday, so I had to find a way to get rid of it or at least clean it.

  I sat on my made-up bed as I stared at the quote again. It made me realize something: I didn’t need a bunch of guys to define who I was. I was Lana Willson, and I wanted to be a nerd. They couldn’t change that because I was supposed to be one, and I’d always be one no matter what happened because I grew up as one, and I chose to be one. I didn’t want to enter that part of my life again—even though I knew the bad was stronger than the good. That the good wasn’t good; they’re damaged. I didn’t need a bunch of teenage boys to change me or tell me what to do and what not to do, because when I graduate, I’d never see them again. I should focus on college and my future. None of this would matter in a couple of months. It’d be another chapter of my life ending.

  I walked to my drawer, opened it, and rummaged through my stuff until I found the case to my old pair of glasses. With everything that happened, I still hadn’t gone to the optometrist, the one Ethan suggested. How ironic, the paper sat right on my desk and stared back at me. I picked up my glasses and slowly put them on, then walked to the mirror. My pink dress looked like vomit, my hair went in all directions, my bloody hands were cold, and my face looked like I hadn’t slept in days.

  “This is me.”

  ***

  “Lana dear.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Listen, your dad won’t be home until late afternoon, and I have to go to the hospital. Will you be okay here alone for the rest of the day?” Mom asked. I turned my head to my door and saw my mother’s shadow underneath. I looked at my window and hissed as the sun shone through the curtain.

  “Yeah, Mom.”

  “Okay, dear, see you tonight,” my mother said. “By the way, Carter called this morning to check if you’re okay.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled as I got up and walked to the bathroom. I yelped as I saw myself in the mirror. My hair stood in all directions because I didn’t bother brushing it out last night and the bags under my eyes darkened by the minute. I glanced at the small clock on the sink and noticed it was almost eleven a.m. I walked to my desk and took something out of the drawer, then unlocked my door and walked out of my bedroom. It was quiet as I walked through the house. My parents’ room was clean as ever, and the guest room looked ordinary, waiting for its regular guests. I walked downstairs and into the kitchen. The dishes laid in the sink, and my mother’s tea was half finished, since she had to rush out. I was barefoot as I walked to the abandoned cupboards in the kitchen corner. I opened it and saw a bottle of whiskey. I smiled as I grabbed it and ripped the lid off, then took a few sips. The liquid burned my throat. I walked to my dad’s office and searched his drawers as I set the bottle on his desk. “Yes.” I cheered as I grabbed the lighter from the drawer. I opened Blake’s pack of cigarettes, took one, and lit it. I stuffed the lighter in my bra, then walked around the house with the cigarette between my lips and bottle in my hand. “Thank you, Carter Halls, Ethan Baxter, Aidan Rowley, and especially Blake Gunner for ruining my life.”

  I leaned against the wall and sipped the vicious alcohol. I thought back to last year and everything that had happened after that. A single tear rolled down my face as I remembered them. I bit my lip to prevent a breakdown, since Aidan was friends with him.

  “You too, Parker.”

  ***

  Carter

  “Did her mother say anything else?” Aidan asked as we arrived at Lana’s house.

  “No, just that she looked horrible and tired from the prank some guys pulled.”

  “Prank? What prank?” he asked as we got out of the car. Blake and Ethan arrived too, and we stood on her lawn.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you okay?” Aidan asked Ethan, who had bags under his eyes. Ethan’s hair wasn’t brushed, his shirt was wrinkled, and he didn’t have matching socks.

  “Well, considering we were looking for a girl in a dress last night and I drove too fast, leading to a cop taking me to the station and my dad bailing me out…I’m peachy,” Ethan grumbled as he forced a smile.

  “What cop?” Blake asked.

  “A female, don’t worry.” Ethan waved us off as he walked up the porch. We followed behind him as he pressed the doorbell. “Lana! We know you’re in there.”

  “Come on, we just want to talk, Willson,” Blake shouted.

  “G-guys look,” Aidan mumbled. We turned to see his stare by the window. We followed him and stood in front of the window which displayed the living room. There stood Lana Willson with a bottle of whiskey in her hand and a cigarette between her lips.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Lana, open the fucking door!”

  “Is that dried blood?”

  “Where did she get that cigarette?”

  We looked like crazy people. Blake and Aidan banged on the door, Ethan yelled at her through the window, yet I stood with my arms by my side. A part of me wanted to break that door down, but something told me to stay put.

  “What the hell?” a familiar voice shouted. We whipped our heads to see Miranda. Her blonde hair was still curled from last night, she wore a sweater, jeans, and brown boots, and she had a look of confusion on her face. “What are you guys doing here?”

  “We want to talk to Lana. What are you doing here?” I asked.

  �
��Bringing her phone. She forgot it last night,” Miranda stated as she held up Lana’s iPhone. We backed up and cleared the way for Miranda to enter. Clearly, she’d let her best friend in. “Lana…” Miranda trailed off. “Please open the door.”

  We went to the window as we watched Lana take another sip of whiskey. Miranda raised a brow as she looked at her best friend. Her face paled as she rushed back to the door and banged on it continuously.

  “Not again,” Miranda whispered. We exchanged looks at what Miranda had said. “Lana, open the fucking door right now!” she yelled. “Please, Lana, don’t…”

  Miranda leaned down and shoved the phone under the door; she came back up and leaned her head against it. Ethan went beside her and gave her a comforting hug; it was quiet as we watched Miranda cry into Ethan’s shoulder.

  “This is all your fault,” I spoke up as I pointed to Blake.

  “What the fuck? How is it my fault? You’re the one who asked her to Homecoming!” Blake raised his voice at me.

  “Well, if we didn’t have to drag her out to the other side of the school that day for you, we wouldn’t be here,” I yelled as I stepped forward.

  “Ha, if it weren’t for this jackass giving her a ride, none of us would be here!” Blake shouted as he gestured to Ethan.

  “Excuse me, you’re the one who gave her a cigarette that day!” Ethan yelled, then pulled away from Miranda and shoved Blake against the wall. Blake adjusted his leather jacket, then threw himself at Ethan. I didn’t know why, but I jumped in and tried to break them up, but I made it worse.

  “Shut up!” Aidan yelled. We stopped to look at Aidan, who had a grave look on his face. Aidan was never the type of person to get angry or take anything seriously, so to see him this way frightened us. The only time he’d be serious was with the guy with the drugs. “It’s all our faults, okay? Ethan’s fault for picking her up, Carter’s fault for asking her to Homecoming, my fault for bringing her to the cottage, and Blake’s fault for offering her cigarettes. It’s all our fucking faults!” Aidan yelled, and I noticed how he’d clenched his fists. It was quiet, nobody talked after a while, everyone tried to register what Aidan had said, and he was right. It was our fault. We took the bet too far. We ruined her.