Bad Kind of Love

by Remi Rose

  Turning on my heel, I twist my head around to give her one last thankful smile before sprinting up the stairs to my bedroom. As I enter my poorly lit room, I immediately flick on the dangly lights that hang behind my headboard and throw myself on the top of my bed.

  Staring blankly up at the ceiling, a bout of exhaustion soon comes over me. Not just physically but mentally too. Could I really last one more year of school, and of a shitty job with even shittier pay?

  Still dressed in my ugly uniform, I slowly peel myself off the bed and strip out of my clothes. Reaching into my dresser drawer, I pull out a cream-colored tank and throw it on over my bare chest and leave on just my black panties. Once I was dressed comfortably, I jumped back into bed and buried myself under the soft comforter.

  Sighing, I reach for my black chunky headphones and place them over my head. Letting the music take over, I slowly succumb to breathy words and close my eyes.

  One day I wasn’t going to have to worry about school, or dread walking into work. One day, I was going to get the fuck out of this town and never look back.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Becca

  I woke up this morning with snarled hair and an unbelievable need to brush my teeth. With a good hour to get ready, I took my time scrubbing and cleaning myself till I no longer smelled of waffle cones and chocolate. Blow drying my hair into soft curls down my back, I let my bangs fall freely down my forehead. My peers would gossip and say that my bangs made me look childish and immature but I loved them. It was easy to hide behind them, like they were curtains that could conceal my eyes from observers, but most importantly, I thought they looked good.

  After a failed attempt of applying my makeup, I swiped on a few coats of mascara and called it good before getting dressed. My choice of clothing was vastly different from girls my age. Where most girls dressed to impress, wearing their revealing tops and short skirts, I dressed to repel. Baggy shirts, sweatshirts, combat boots, anything to make me look less appealing. I didn’t want or need the attention from anyone, especially the opposite sex. But today, I decided to dress a little more… girly than I was used to.

  With ten minutes to spare, I quickly dress into black tights and a pair of loose distressed shorts over them. Grabbing a plain white t-shirt from my dresser drawer, I decide to compliment it by wearing the new jean jacket Aunt Claire bought me.

  Standing in front of the horizontal mirror that hung on the back of my door, I studied my reflection. My button nose was far too small for my face and covered in hundreds of tiny freckles that I wish I could erase. My lips were too fat, my eyebrows were too bushy and the mole above my lip needed to go. I disliked almost everything about my appearance, except the natural tan that was passed on from my mother’s Italian heritage.

  The one and only thing she gave me.

  Satisfied, I grab my black satchel off my dresser and peek inside to make sure my headphones are stuffed at the bottom. Once I know I have them, I scurry out of the room and downstairs to find Aunt Claire cradling a cup of coffee in her hands.

  “Good morning.” She smiles sweetly, twirling around in her ankle length boho dress to face me.

  “Morning.” I say rushed, flinging the closet door open, and snatching my boots off the shoe rack.

  “Running late?”

  “A tad.” I hastily step into my boot and tighten the straps before tying them into a sloppy bow. Once I finish tying the other boot, I snag my car keys off the hook and dart for the door.

  “Wait!” My aunt stops me, rushing out of the kitchen with a brown sac in her hands. “Here’s some breakfast.”

  “Oh, thank you.” I reach for the bag and shove it in my satchel.

  “Just a blueberry muffin and a banana.” She sips on her coffee, leaning her back against the couch. “You look great, that jacket looks good on you.” She praises, taking in my outfit from head to toe.

  “Thanks, I really like it.” I tug on the buttons, feeling a flush hit my cheeks from her compliment.

  “I’ll be home late tonight. Chad’s taking me out to some fancy place tonight for dinner.” She says dreamily. The twinkle in her eyes lets me know she’s fantasizing about the night they’ll have together.

  Nodding, I pull on my satchel strap. “Okay, well, I better get going.” I gesture towards the front door. “I don’t want to get detention on the first day of school.” I tease, knowing my luck, that’s exactly what would happen.

  “Yes of course, have a good day at school.” She sets her cup down onto the side table. “If you need anything, just call or text.”

  “I will.” I smile, before marching out of the house and slipping inside my pearl white Toyota. On my sixteenth birthday, I persistently advised Aunt Claire I didn’t want or need a car. Her spending thousands of dollars on me was exactly what I didn’t want. But, the morning of my birthday, I woke up to find a shiny white car in the driveway with a giant green bow on the top. No matter how much I begged for her to return it, she refused to take it back.

  Westwood High was a short drive away from the house. Watching the clock tick on the dash, I punched down on the gas pedal, but naturally got stuck behind a blue hair that was driving ten under the speed limit. Tapping my nails on the steering wheel, I trail behind them for what seems like miles till I could finally whip my car into the parking lot. Driving around, I find an empty space and quickly throw my car into park before killing the engine and hopping out. With my bag slung over my shoulder, I start hauling ass to the front entrance. Seeing no students in the parking lot was already a bad sign that I was running late.

  Grasping the door handle, I throw it open and practically heave myself inside.

  Oh shit.

  The halls were as empty as my dad’s bank account, no one in sight. You could virtually hear crickets chirping in the background… That's how deserted it was.

  “Fuck…” I mutter to myself, while reaching into my bag for my schedule. Quickly scanning over the paper, I find my first class, English with Mr. Moore.

  Shoving the paper back into my bag, I sprint down the hall as fast as I could in my boots and march up the stairs. Out of breath and apparently shape, I scurry down the hall till I reach my destination. My heart pounds violently, dreading the moment I have to step foot inside the classroom. With sweaty palms, I seize the door handle and ever so slowly pull it open.

  Keeping my head down, I take a hesitant step inside. The air seems to shift in the room the moment I enter and all curious eyes land on me.

  “Sorry… I’m..” I stumble over the words as my eyes lift and land on Mr. Moore.

  Wait.

  That’s definitely not Mr. Moore. Last time I remembered he was a sixty-year-old man who was bald and insisted on wearing suspenders every day. Whoever this was, was the exact opposite of Mr. Moore.

  “You’re late.” His deep gravelly voice echoed through the room. With his hands out leaning against the desk, peering at a stack of papers, he doesn’t bother glancing over at me. Speechless, I stand there frozen in place, trying to formulate in my head what to say back. But all I can seem to do is admire him from afar. Long dark hair pulled back into a messy bun with a few stray pieces falling down over his face. My eyes lingered past his bearded jawline to his exposed forearms. A white buttoned up shirt was rolled up just enough to make out the ink that trailed up his arm and disappeared under the dress shirt. There was no way this man was a teacher. His clothes were teacher attire, but his appearance on the other hand looked like he belonged in prison alongside my dad.

  “Are you going to stand there all day or take a seat? I have a class to teach.” He mocks, laced with a serious tone that sent a shiver down my back. With his eyes still down, I almost forget there’s a classroom full of students when I hear their chuckles ring in my ear. My face instantly flushes, and I feel my feet move quickly to the back of the room to find an empty seat. Lowering myself into a chair, I sink as low as I could trying to hide away from the ridiculing stares all around me.

  �
�I think Bec has a crush.” Vicky Thompson whispers to her little minion next to her, making sure she says it loud enough for me to hear. With her blue pen in-between her teeth, she twists her body around till she’s facing me with a sly grin. Wanting nothing more than to watch that pen explode in her mouth and stain her perfect set of teeth, I avert my eyes from her and focus on my feet.

  “Crush? I think she would have spread her legs for him in front of the whole school.” Her friend teases, causing a few other students to laugh.

  Clenching my fists under the desk, I could feel my blood temperature soaring, to the point where it was boiling.

  “And what do we all find so funny over here?” The same powerful voice questions, causing me to lift my head.

  He was now standing in our aisle, directly next to Vicky and her blonde friend, towering over the both of them with a menacing look across his face. With arms crossed, he appeared impatient waiting for their response while they both gazed up at him like he was their next meal.

  Rolling my eyes, I watch as Vicky twirls a strand of her dark hair and innocently smiles up at our new teacher. “We were just messing with O’Connor when...”

  “O’Connor?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion.

  “Yah.” She nods her head. “We were joking around with Becca back there… weren’t we?” She twists her head around to face me, giving me a “don’t say shit or else” look.

  He follows her eyes, and as if all the oxygen in the room filtered out, his stare crashes down on me.

  Black was all I saw. A familiar color of black and darkness that sent my heart into a wild frenzy.

  His eyes were blacker than night as they took me in with a strange emotion etched across his face. Like he couldn’t believe what he was staring at. It was a mixture of disbelief, anger, wonderment, every emotion in the damn book was displayed across this man’s face as he drew me in. Confused and slightly worried, I swallow the large lump in my throat as all eyes once again land on me.

  As if he’s been caught staring too long, he coughs and quickly averts his eyes away from me.

  “Now, if you two find the need to disrupt my class again with your... jokes, please feel free to let us all in.” He motions his arms around the classroom, but his tone says differently. “I like jokes.” He says wickedly, capturing my eyes before stalking off to the front of the classroom. Everyone remained eerily silent, if a pin was dropped from a mile away, you’d be able to hear it clearly. “Before we were so rudely interrupted by Miss O’Connor’s tardiness…” He grabs a piece of chalk and starts scribbling on the board.

  Asshole.

  “If you were expecting Mr. Moore this morning… he is no longer employed at Westwood High, which makes me your new English teacher.” Once he’s finished writing on the board, he twists his body around to face his students. He stands like a king gazing upon his people, powerful and sure. “My name is Mr. Fitzgerald, and I intend to make this class one of the hardest courses of your semester. I’m not an easy teacher, I expect a lot from my students, and some would say I’m an asshole because of it. Some will struggle and fail, others will push through and succeed. My rules are simple, and I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

  Directing his statement at me, he roams his eyes over the room, avoiding me altogether.

  “Any questions?” He says like he’s daring anyone to comment on his spiel.

  Immediately, Vicky’s hand flies up faster than a speeding bullet.

  “Yes.” He glances at her with disinterest.

  “How old are you, Mr. Fitz?” She asks in a sultry voice, piquing the interest of all the girls in the class. They all wait with open ears for his response.

  “Old enough to be your father.” He dismisses her without batting an eye. Frustrated by his answer, she glows red. Vicky Thompson was the It girl. Rarely ever turned down, and always desired, even by men twice her age. “Now, if anyone has serious questions...”

  No one spoke up or raised their hand, perhaps intimidated by his gravelly voice or gruff looks, but not me, I was intrigued. Asshole or not, I was curious about who this man was and why he was here.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that our new teacher was the devil himself.

  *******

  Once English was over, I scrambled past Mr. Fitzgerald’s desk, peeking a glance at his built frame before heading out into the crowded hallways. He kept his eyes glued down, as if he knew I was watching him. Tugging onto my lower lip, I brush aside the strange pull towards my new teacher and concentrate on where to go next.

  My next few classes went by fast, but boring as hell to say the least. First days were always the worst anyway, introducing ourselves even though we all knew each other from previous years, and listening to the teacher bark about this year’s curriculum. With my headphones strapped over my head and music blaring in my ears, I stroll through the halls blocking out any useless background noise. This was how I managed to get by all these years, no one bothered to mess with the weird girl who wore the chunky headphones.

  And that’s how I liked it.

  As I navigate around a group of people, I feel a delicate hand grasp my shoulder causing me to tense up. Feeling their body slide in next to mine, I sigh in relief when I realize it's my one and only friend, Josie. Removing the headphones off my ears, I pull them down so they are now lying across my shoulders like a necklace.

  “There you are.” She exhales, dragging us over to the lockers. “Where were you this morning? I looked around everywhere for you.”

  “I didn’t get here until everyone was in class.” I groan. “Made a complete fucking fool of myself too.”

  Her dark brows knit together. “Jesus, I thought my morning was going bad.” She shakes her head, making her auburn locks bounce. “What class did you walk into?”

  “English.”

  “Wait.” She cuts me off, pointing her index finger in front of my face. “English…with that new sexy as hell teacher?”

  I should have known she knew about him already. “More like an asshole teacher.”

  “He gave you shit for being late?”

  “More like singled me out in class about being tardy. I also had Vicky Thompson and her skank ass friend bad mouthing me.” The moment Vicky’s name escaped my mouth, Josie’s jaw dropped.

  “Vicky Thompson?” She says uneasy. “How’d you get on her shit list? I didn’t think she knew you existed. No offense.”

  “Apparently she does. But, I’m sure by tomorrow I’ll be invisible again.” I reassure, knowing she’d have someone new to torture tomorrow.

  “Yea, you’re probably right.” She agrees, shaking it off. “Let’s get some lunch, I’m starving.”

  Nodding, I follow beside her down the hall, until we have to make a sharp right turn into the cafeteria. As my body twists, I run right into what feels like a brick wall, but when I feel a rough hand grab onto my arm to steady me, I know it wasn’t a wall.

  “Shit!” A gruff voice barks as I feel a cold liquid splash down on the bottom of my shirt. My hands instinctively wrap around the stranger’s forearms in a tightening grip. “Fuck, are you okay?”

  Still in shock from the sudden whiplash, my eyes finally adjust and peer up at the stranger.

  Oh. My. God.

  Was this some sort of joke? First Mr. Fitzgerald, now this guy?

  With my eyes the size of dinner plates, I take in the stranger in front of me, not caring that whatever was spilled down the front of my shirt was really fucking cold. “Uhh...” I babble, staring into the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.

  “You good?” He raises a brow, leering down at me with confusion and a hint of worry across his flawless features. Rendered speechless once again, my eyes wander over his sandy colored quaffed hair, to his deep set eyes that remind me of tropical water. He was more than good looking. He was god-like, a perfect face with a killer jawline that was carved out to be admired and idolized. “Your friend good?” I hear him ask Josie beside us.

 
; Coming back to reality, I quickly drop my hands from his arms, and take a huge leap backwards next to Josie. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” I cough, avoiding his bewildered gaze. Furious with myself for getting caught up in his captivating stare, I muster up my best glare.

  “Shit, I spilled my drink all down your shirt.” He groans running a hand through his styled hair. I study his movement closely, but find myself drifting down his defined and well-built frame that’s visible through his black t-shirt and jeans.

  Hearing a small cough next to me, I notice It’s Josie who’s watching me with wide eyes and I snap out of the weird trance I’m in.

  “Pay attention much?” I snap a little too aggressively. But what I didn’t expect was for him to smile in return, revealing a perfect set of teeth. He must think I’m crazy.

  Dragging a finger across his lower lip, he lets out an amused chuckle. “Apparently not. It’s my first day, still getting used to this big ass school.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, holding back a grin.

  “Yah, well, now I have to find another shirt to wear because of you.” I complain, knowing all I really have to do is stand under a dryer for a few minutes, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “Shit, your right, I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, dropping that panty melting smile from his face. “I have an extra shirt in my locker, it might be a little big on you.” He scans his eyes down my short frame. “But, it’ll be better than wearing a wet shirt all day.”

  “I have one.” Josie interrupts. “You can wear my extra one I have for after swim practice.”

  Nodding, I give him one last glance over and turn to follow Josie, but am stopped when a large hand ceases my wrist. Instantly, I feel hot with rage. I hated being touched by anyone, this guy must have a death wish.

  “I am sorry.” He apologizes, gazing down at me with his aqua colored eyes. Caught in their depths, I sense as if this was his move with girls. Hypnotize them with the flecks of turquoise and blue, and get them to fall at his feet.

  “It’s fine. Just watch where you’re going next time.” I rip my arm out of his hold and amble away, catching up with Josie. Feeling his eyes burn a hole in my back as I walk away, I quickly get out of his line of vision.