Chapter 2: Bitch, please
He was a monster. A bad boy was not defined by how many girls they’d slept with, but he was defined by what he had done.
And he had certainly done everything—the boy was Satan (had I mentioned that?), and I believe he was out to get me. Oh Rivyn, welcome to Karma cafe. There are no menus; you will get served what you deserve.
“Sorry Mr. Gillian. I had to help my mother at the retirement home this morning,” the handsome student said.
It was a complete lie though. I knew better.
“The elder ladies needed help with their morning walks.”
Another lie. “And I had to make sure they came home safe.”
Bitch, please. You’d never be caught dead walking an elder across the street.
“But I did get you this.” He threw him and apple which Mr. Gillian fumbled to catch. Blondie and I stifled a laugh, but clamped our mouths shut after the teacher fired a cold glare.
The student’s big warehouse boots echoed past my ears. What a lying jerk! I pretended to cough, slipping out a few words of ‘liar’ and ‘fraud’.
Unfortunately, he chose to ignore it.
“Um...Thanks, Mr. Daniels.....” Mr. Gillian said faintly, observing the apple with a sceptical look.
The hunky bitch smoothly slid next to me, pulling up real close. Too close.
Chest hammering, I shifted the chair a bit, keeping my distance like the kid had the Black Plague.
He stuck his big hand out—Lord, why was everything big about him?
That’s what she said.
“Names O’Brian. Usually people just call me Brian. And your name, baby?” he asked, voice deepened.
I stared at his mortifyingly gigantic hand. That thing could probably cup a gorilla’s ass, it so huge. Disgusted, I wondered how many butt’s slapped per day with those hands.
I failed a response, too clouded with my thoughts and barely noticed there was an awkward twenty seconds.
“Do you know English?” he asked, searching my face as if I was a foreign exchange student. Sympathy flickered over his features, and for a moment, I thought maybe he had changed until he said, “Because the ladies say I’m an expert at oral.”
He didn’t just... Oh flaming babies.
I narrowed my eyes, anger blurring his good looks. “My name’s get lost y—”
“You two!” Our heads jerked up. “Where are both your late slips?” snapped Mr. Gillian. Had I kicked this teacher’s balls in his past life? And he couldn’t have asked for those slips earlier?
Brian dug his pockets for the slip and frowned. “I don’t have it, Mr. Gillian. I’m deeply sorry from the bottom of my heart.”
“More like from the bottom of your ass,” I snorted.
Mr. Gillian’s brows furrowed and he waved a nonchalant hand towards the door. “You two—fetch a slip and don’t come back until you have one!”
“I’ll wait for Brian to come back from the office,” I insisted. Alone in the hall with that monster was like strapping a deer to a tree in hunting season. Fatal.
“Now,” the teacher ordered.
“Bu-”
“Unless you prefer running into the principal’s office.”
“I prefer my fist running into your face,” I said.
Mr. Gillian’s ears burned red, flustered by the sudden comeback. “Miss—”
“I’m going, I’m going. Don’t get your genitalss squeezed.” I rose and slammed the library door behind me.
Fast walking, I heightened my speed as I heard the door close again. “Bae, wait!” he called, a hilt of amusement tickling his voice.
There was no way on Earth I’d be talking to that dickadork.
I was a cheetah on fast walk mode, scissor motioned hands and quick feet cutting me around the corner. My ears perked to his rushing steps and I soon bolted.
Yet heels could only get you so far.
His speed ate away the distance between us, and my scheming mind clicked once I spotted a door about to close. Wedging my foot before it did, I slipped inside. Back pressed against the door, I didn’t realize my breath came in shallow gasps and laughed. I had escaped him. I had escaped that horrendous mons—
The door suddenly swung open full force, blasting me forward. I shrieked and fell down the three stepped staircase with flailing arms, grabbing the first thing that kept me balanced.
Lifting my head, my eyes popped and heat flushed my cheeks. I was holding onto a towel one of the boys was gripping tightly around their waist. Surveying my location, I felt my heart pump faster. Here I was, struggling to stand with the help of a guy’s towel inside the boy’s locker room:
Where currently they were changing and showering, steam clogging the air and shirtless creatures peeking from their aisles to spot the invader.
“Whoops,” I squeaked and gave the guy whose towel I was holding an apologetic look. He barely held onto the cloth against his waist, my grip still tugging on it. “I’m so so so sorry,” I kept repeating. Trying to stand, my feet suddenly slipped on a puddle and I shrieked again, trying to use the towel for support but failed as I ripped it off of him.
“Wow.”
Knees on the wet floor, I turned and immediately wanted to dissolve into a molecule. Brian stood, staring with a swirl of amusement in his eyes, clearly noticing the pantless guy in front of my face. “You work fast. I call dibs next.” My mouth jaw hit the ground. “Baby, looks like you got the first step down. I’ll take a BJ to go. Mr. G will be wondering where we are.”
White hot anger ripped in my chest and I rose, picking up the towel. After everything he had done to my family, I used the breathing exercise my therapist told me so I wouldn’t murder him.
“If you’re not gonna suck his—”
“Shut up!” I snapped, lashing the towel towards his direction. “You don’t deserve to talk to me after what you’ve done!”
“Miss, you think you could hand me back my towel?” the guy asked.
Brian flipped his hair out of his vision, the soft blonde curls looked tempting to go through but I gripped the cloth. “I haven’t done anything,” he coolly stated.
Done anything?!
The natural protective instinct kicked in. I slapped him across the face. Hard.
Flabbergast, he touched his cheek and slowly processing what I had done, burst with rage, “What the hell was that for?” he shouted. I fought back a smile and crossed my arms holding a serious face. A nice looking red mark formed at the side of his cheek.
“For ruining my life.”
Brian shot me a confused look. “Excuse me?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, jerk.”
“Actually, I don’t.” I smirked waiting for the ‘gottcha!’ or ‘jokes!’ However, he kept mute.
He didn't remember. How could he have not remembered? He was made me this way. He has made my family that way. Perhaps he ruined too many lives to even remember.
My jaw clenched, a sickening crack striking another heated nerve. How could he forget me?! The whole reason why I was in this hell hole of America was because of O’Brian Daniels.
I swore madly at him, breaking into full on spaz. Vocabulary that no woman should ever speak. Words that I never imagined saying tumbled out, one by one. Once I finished, I was puffing heavily, glaring at him. If only looks could kill.
Brian did the last thing I ever thought he would do. He laughed! He clenched his stomach, howling with amusement like it was the funniest joke he ever heard. My feet were planted to the ground in full shock.
“You’re a funny one, you know that?” he said, as he began to relax.
Surprising shocks were sent all over my body, making me paralyzed. This wasn’t funny—not even close. People were in jail because of him.
“Uh, ma’am. What about my towel?” asked the guy again.
Brian took a step closer, bringing his chest up against mine. “And you look, damn hot when you’re mad,” he hushed, tracing my jaw line with his fingers.
That was when I lost it.
BAM!
“Shit! You’ve got to stop hitting me,” Brian yelled, rubbing his arm.
“You stop! I can’t believe you forgot,” I scoffed, disgusted by his face. Actually, I wasn’t disgusted by his face at all. It was more like his personality...no one could ever be disgusted by that face…
“Look, I don’t mean to be an ass—”
“Trust me. You don’t have to try,” I flakily smiled.
“—you got to stop talking nonsense,” he finished.
It was tempting to smack him but hitting Brian by his skull wouldn’t knock any sense in. “Do you even know my name?” I questioned raising an eyebrow.
Brian smirked. “Does it look like I care?” I bit my lip back, holding onto the cold devil tongue that I desperately wanted to unleash. “Look, if I once got you pregnant, I’m sorry.”
“Is getting into girl’s pants the only think you about?” I snarled.
“Then what the hell is your problem?” he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.
“You,” I answered simply. A cough bounced off the walls and I looked past my shoulder. The boys kept staring, horribly intrigued by our conversation. “What are you fuckards look’in at?” I spat, my anger still blazing.
“Can I have my towel please?” asked the guy.
“Seriously!” Brian exclaimed at me. “What is your problem?!”
“You! I said that already! You ruined me! You ruined my family and my best friend! The only people in the world who actually care about me!” He seemed startled, lost in my words and was zipped quite. “Don’t you have something to say?!”
He drew a confused look and shook his head. “I told you, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.”
I freed the caged groan, it sounding a lot like: “Rrraaaaaarrrrghhhhhhhhhh!”
Then Brian quietly hummed Katy Perry’s, “And you’re gonna hear her roar...”
“Why must you find such humour in this situation?! It’s not funny!”
“Because you’re saying such BS—you’re on drugs aren’t you?”
“Oh fuck me!”
“Promise?” he winked.
“Go to hell.”
“Looks like we’re already here.”
Done, I moved past him and was about to leave until a different male voice asked, “Uh, can I have my towel now?”
___________________________
“Come on ladies! How long does it take to put on a uniform?” barked Coach Boysin. Her beefy looking body and bulldog face equalled a hideous monster that enjoyed working sixteen year old girls to their limits. Well, that was what people tweeted. And honestly, for a 5’6 girl like me, I was quite the athlete that could still slam dunk, so it seemed like a breeze.
“They’re uncomfortable aren’t they?” I spun around, facing an average height typical blonde girl. Yeah, she had everything nailed down. Big butt, big chest, massive curves and snuck up nose.
“Completely,” I said giving her a chance to open the conversation. Mind as well give her a chance since I let down all the other three offers of becoming friends. Shallow glares and ‘I’m busy’ looks really stirred away company.
The ‘popular’ kids tried making friends with me, but I told them I had AIDS.
They walked away pretty fast.
I wouldn’t blame them. My aunt made me wear the most expensive clothes and some presumed I dressed like a slut. Suffocating tight fabrics, lethal heels, and bold lipstick sealed with a withering glare. Bitch.
As The Detention puts it: Beauty. Intelligence. Talent. Charisma. Hoobastank.
That makes me sound like a bitch so let me rephrase this.
I was a bitch. I knew it. But only when I wanted to be. I mean, aren’t all girls like that though?
Who I blame this on? Brian. I was still pissed.
Luckily, I was starting to simmer down and was simply becoming plain tired.
“Like, I’m skinny but man, these are way too tight,” she said trying to stretch the dull blue shorts.
“Here. Pass it over.” She threw me the shorts and I broke off the elastic with my teeth. “There,” I said handing it back.
“Much better,” she sighed putting them back on. “I’m Klaire by the way.”
“Riyvn,” I grinned.
Coach Boysin slammed the locker door with her fist. We nearly jumped out of the shorts. “Get out now, Miss Stevens!” the coach bellowed. Klaire squealed “sorry” and ran, leaving me alone with the hairy beast.
“DeLor, I heard several good things about your athletic abilities,” she said as Klaire scurried off. Her voice was deep as Mr. Gillian’s…scary. I tried not to stare at her exposed hairy chest but come on, it was quite noticeable.
“Um….thanks sir, I mean—ma’am,” I stammered, standing up straight.
“I except high standards from you.”
“Yes si—ma’am!”
“Good, now go out there and make me proud,” she barked. Last time I checked I didn’t sign up for boot camp.
I naturally saluted and sprinted away from the change room, quickly standing beside Klaire. She nudged me to see if I was okay and I nodded back. The quick hustle brought some adrenaline, it bumping my veins.
Wolf hoots and whistles broke out as the guys rustled from the change room.
“The guys and girls gym period is mixed?” I asked surprised. Back in Ontario it was always separate for perverted reasons.
She snorted, reminding me a little of those bitchy blonde girls, but Klaire didn’t seem like that type so I pushed the thought.
“Never. They mix genders only during the track race and the stretching time. Sometimes we even do a little co-ed game at the end of class,” she said, eyes sparkling. I crossed off ‘nail breaking freak’ in my head. Guess she loved sports as well.
I smiled, relief washing over me. Thank god. I would hate to have gym with Brian.
“Alright ladies and gentlemen, everyone outside to the fields! It’s time for laps!”
Klaire and I headed outside with the crowd. At the corner of my eye I noticed Klaire shoot a deadly glare at one of the guys checking her out. I crossed off in my head, ‘not a typical blonde’. Maybe we could really be friends.
“Look who it is,” said a familiar charming tone. You’ve got to be kidding me. I felt a hand slinking up my arm to my neck. I shivered and pushed the person away, only to have my hand taken in a hard grip. “Isn’t it my favourite druggy,” winked Brian as he wrapped his arms around my waist.
“I’m not a druggy, you oomph a loompa!” I said.
“I’m guessing you two know each other?” asked Klaire raising an eyebrow as she watched me struggle to get him off.
Well done Karma. Well done.
ϞϟϞϞϟϟ
There might be confusion to why Rivyn has this grudge on Brian and why she is such a Mean Girl aka bitch, but there’s a reason.
Awkward moment when you walk away from your 12 year old sister and mom as they are watching Friends With Benefits.
Life lesson #1: Never watch sex scenes with your parents. No matter how ‘orally’ educational it may be.
:) Please vote and comment on my story
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