Playing The Bad Boy's Game

"So, who sits here?"I whispered, noticing the other empty seat beside me.
Blondie glanced to the clock. "Him," he said just as the time clicked 10. The door opened and I looked up.
My pencil dropped to the ground, eyes wide.
Oh. My. God.
It's him.
The first drug dealer that began my parents addiction.
The player that stole my best friends virginity.
The wicked monster that sent my cousin to rehab.
The hottest guy I've ever seen.
The reason why my life is hell.
And he's coming to be my English partner.

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22. Chapter 20: Just Gimme A Reason----Bitch Slap!

            BRIAN’S P.O.V 

            I leaned the back of my foot on a locker, resting against the cold metal as I grinned at Chris. 

            “Talk about awesome!” he said, high-fiving me.  It was the end of the day and we were about to gather our stuff to head home.  Barely anyone was in the halls, leaving to stock up presents for their family and friends. 

            “I know!” I exclaimed.  “That touchdown at last night’s game.  Aw man.  We should pull one of those off during this season.”

            He brightened, and nudged my shoulder.  “Wanna bet you can’t pull one in the championships?” he challenged.

            Snorting, I pushed him off.  “One bet at a time, bro.  I already have one hot ass to take care of.”

            “A sexy hot as.s,” Chris evilly smirked, and I glared.  He laughed and turned around.  “Speaking of the devil,” and looked over his shoulder.  

            “Hey Rivyn!” I waved, excitement rushing up my neck.

            I walked up to her as she came storming towards me.  She defiantly wanted to make-out, with all that energy...today was my lu-cky day!

            Suddenly, she roughly shoved my chest, pushing me against a locker.  Total turn on.  Minus the loud wince that escaped my lips.

            With one look at her, I noticed her narrowed eyebrows, and burning eyes.  About to ask what was wrong, she punched my jaw.  I swear I heard a crack as I clutched my face.  A throbbing ache pounded my head, the sting very strong.  “What the f---”

            She hit me again, this time at my eye.  My vision shattered, and I felt myself slamming back to the locker.  Instinct kicking in, I snatched her shoulders, and spun her around, smashing her up where I was moments ago.  “What the hell is wrong with you?!” I shouted, my eye-sight slowly coming back.  Her breathes were heavy and I knew she wasn’t going to talk.

             With one swift move, she kicked me in the gut, knocking my wind out.  A quick flash of memory zoomed past as I remembered the two of us fighting back at home, only just a few weeks ago.  My guard down, she kneed my ribs and I cried out, falling on my ass.  Biting back sob of pain, my biceps were hurting, and I barely got the chance to stand up.

            Rivyn pounced on top of my stomach, and began to drill her fist, continuously hammering more pain to the face. 

            I helplessly blocked some of her blows with my palms, but she was too good.  The solid odour of blood started to leak through my nostrils, and I felt like I was about to scream.  I desperately wanted to hurt her, however she was my girlfriend.  And even if I could, her moves would react too fast and easily dodge them.

            “Why?!” she snapped, finally stopping.  Her voice was tired and coarse, the tone still fuelled with rage.  Her breathes were heavy, and she was huffing, her ponytail falling out.

            Waves of sore torture roughly seeped along my skin, and I squinted, my eyes beginning to swell.  Unable to speak, she slapped my cheek, causing me to cringe.  “Fight back!” she ordered, shaking my head.  “God dammit!  Fight back!  Why aren’t you fighting back?!”

            I m.oaned, and shut my eyes, every part h.urting. 

            “Brian!” she shouted, and held my face with her soft hands.  “F.uck!  Brian!  Why did you have to cheat on me?!  Why choose to be a b.astard!?  Why?!”

            A sharp stab in the heart sent me to black out.  The last agony of terror wasn’t from her though.  It was by me.  It was the pain that I’ve caused myself.

            It was because she found out. 

---------------------------------*--------------------------------*----------------------------------------*--------

            Beep!  ......Beep!  ........Beep! 

            Barely able to think, I opened my eyes, immediately regretting it.  A hard feeling grinded to my mind, and I let out a small cry. 

            “Brian!” said a familiar voice.  “Aw bro, you scared me there for a moment.”

            Trying to find my vision again, I slowly deciphered the blurs, and found Chris staring down with a large smile of relief. 

            “Hey,” I meekly mumbled, just under a whisper.

            He sipped at his Coke and I hardly laughed, my throat suddenly burning.  “You didn’t get me one?” I joked.  Shoving the cold metal against my lip, he tipped the drink, the bubbly soda sending pleasure into my system.  “Thanks.”

            “No problem,” he said, his hair blocking half of his eye. 

            Then it all came back.

            Rivyn, her being mad, punching the hell out of me, figuring out about cheating thing, black out.  Black out?

            As if he read my mind, Chris pointed to my hospital clothes.  Gradually turning my head, I gawked at my surroundings.  She hit me so hard, that I got sent the emergency room?  “Holy shit,” I breathed, shocked.

            “Yeah, tell me about it,” he chuckled.  “The nurses wouldn’t let me in here until I threatened to speak to their manager.  They wouldn’t allow anyone else to come in either, except me.”

            I paused for a moment, feeling my blood flow coming back.  The thought of the fight, made my head ache.  As if reading my mind again, he opened his mouth to speak.  “I had to knock her out before she killed you.”

            I snapped up, and grabbing Chris by the collar.  “YOU WHAT?!”

            Amazed by my sudden boost of strength, he tore my hand off, but I punched him in the face instead.  “You HIT HER!?” I screamed, ready to shoot him.

            Holding his Coke to his cheek, he glared, and swatted my hand away.  “Yes, I knocked her out, douche!  She was about to KILL you!”

            “Doesn’t mean you had to knock her out!  She’s my freak’n girlfriend!” I countered, frustration running through my veins. 

            Chris sighed, and sat down on the empty bed beside mine.  “Rivyn’s fine.  She’s in the room down from you actually,” he informed, studying my face.  “You’re not mad though.  I mean, at her.  Aren’t you worried that she might try to kill you again?  She made you bleed!  You look like a mess!  Your nose is crooked and I can’t even tell if you have two eyes or not!”

            I threw my hands to my nose, and I felt around the edge.  “Liar!” I scowled, and got up, suddenly worried about Rivyn.

            “What do you think you’re doing?!” he asked, pushing me back onto the bed.  I quickly rolled the other way, and walked across the room to the curtain ahead of mine. 

            “To see how she’s doing!” I shouted, and pulled aside the fabric.  Laying peacefully under the covers, the most beautiful women was sound asleep, her lashes reaching down to her cheeks.  Her silky dark brown hair fell past her shoulders, draped above her rising chest.  “Rivyn,” I breathed, thrill tingled up my arm. 

            Stepping towards her, I pushed aside a strand, revealing a purple bruise that looked like the size of a golf ball. 

            “Don’t touch me,” she murmured, her voice still drowsy.

            Ignoring her orders, I leaned down and kissed her lips.  It was like an animated scene in the Sleeping Beauty, when the prince kisses the girl, waking her up from eternal sleep.  Then she thanks the hero, and the two go onto a three hour make-out scene. 

            Those are the parts they edited out in Disney, the rules strictly rated G. 

            I held my breath, waiting for my princess to awaken.  My hands got sweaty, and I rubbed them against my hospital dress.

            “I said don’t fucking touch me.”

            She’s just lovely, eh?

            “Just did,” I answered, a wide grin slowly stretching.

            “Then you’re an ass.”

            “I know.”

            “Then f off.”

            “I can’t.”

            “Then kill yourself.”

            “I can’t.”

            “I’ll do it for you.”

            “No thanks.”

            Rivyn, at a snail's pace, began to sit up, and she slowly opened her pretty big brown eyes.  With a large smile, she flashed her perfect set of teeth.  “I desperately want to put a bullet through your head.”

            “You’re not the only one,” I admitted, my voice getting tense.

            Wildly grinning, her expression brightened.  “If you pass me a gun, I would gladly do the honors.”

            “Sorry, deary but it seems that I don’t have one.”

            She frowned, giving a cute pout look, and dropped back onto the pillow.  “Too bad.  I was looking forward to your death.”

            I sat beside her, and my heart hammering as I got closer.  “You okay?” I blurted, and felt like smacking myself.

            As if fire blazed from her eyes, she glared, ready to strangle me.  “For starters, I’m in a hospital bed because your friend hit me so god damn hard that I passed out.  I will probably get charged for assault, and my aunt is ready to slaughter my head off for almost killing you.  Your mom probably will be the one to sentence me to hell, and I have the worst headache, besides you, throbbing against my head.  And I just found out that my boyfriend cheated on me with some bitch that wants to stab a knife in my chest….”

            Bitch?  As in one?  Is she meaning…..Charlotte?  Relief washed over, I felt like I was showering in gold.  God must have been listening, because I had a second chance.  Ah-lay-loo-ya!  She thinks I cheated with Charlotte, not those dancers from the bar!  Someone must have set us up!   

            “…..Of course, out of all people, you wouldn’t care since you don’t care about anyone but yourself.  So why don’t you ask yourself, if I’m f.uck’n okay,” she huffed, her face roasted to a red shade, like a tomato.  Staring at my happy reaction, she looked disgusted.  “Are you smiling?!  Are you fucking smile?!!!”

            I grinned, and retraced back.  She was about to burst, and I really didn’t want to get punched again.  I had to tell her slowly about how I didn’t cheat on her. 

            Damnit.  But I did.  Maybe I should come clean.  That seems like the right thing to do.  Based on the reaction with whole cheating-with-Charlotte problem, I’m guessing I’d most likely end up, actually, dead.

            “Rivyn, I need you to listen.  I don’t want you to say anything throughout the whole time I’m speaking,” I softly said, trying to reach her. 

            She widened her eyes, and gawked like I grew three arms.  “You want me to listen to you?  Are you serious?”

            I meekly nodded, and prayed for her to dust off some steam.  “Yes, please.  Let me explain—”

            “There’s nothing to explain,” she snapped.  “We’re do—”

            “No we’re not,” I boldly roared, switching to aggressive mode.  She inched back, surprised by my quick explosion.  “We’re not done until I finish speaking.  Am I clear?”

            Exhausted from all the rage, she crossed her arms, all the flames finally dying.  Not saying anything, she eyed me carefully and gave in, falling back into bed.

            Not exactly the best approach, but it worked. 

            Release of stress kind of breaking down, I licked my lips, thinking where I should start.    

            “It all began when…….”

------------------------------------------*--------------------------------------*---------------------------------------

           BRIAN’S P.O.V.

            “……and why Charlotte is setting us up.  It’s because she’s jealous that you’re dating me and she wishes we could be back together,” I finished, my throat extremely dry from all the talking.  However, what Rivyn didn’t know, was the bet.  I kept that part out, the only secret left. 

            Resting her head, she exhaled in and out, this information hard to take in.  Telling her everything, from the start of my brain operation, to when I cheated on her, and then to now, was an awful lot of time.            

            Nurses walked back and forth through the curtain, checking up on us as I continued to tell Rivyn my story.  By the time I was done, it was already nightfall and Chris must have left long ago.

            “How come you didn’t tell me you used to love Charlotte?” she asked, her voice shaking.

            I almost smiled to know that she was talking to me, but quickly covered it with a soft face.  “I tried to, but you wouldn’t let me,” I answered.  “But forget about that, I’m with you, not her.”

            “Are you really?” she asked, coming out strong.  “You know, I’m really fed up with your lies, Brian.”

            “But I’m not---”

            “For the past few days, I haven’t been honest with you either.  Well, somewhat honest compared to you.”

--------------------------------------*-------------------------------------*--------------------

            RIVYN’S P.O.V.

            His face was stirred with confusion, eyebrows scrunched up.

            “That’s not the only reason why Charlotte is mad at me.  I cheated on you Brian.  I cheated on you with Charlotte’s boyfriend because she was pissing me off.  I purposefully kissed him in front of her at the soccer game.  I broke them up,” I said, my voice getting quieter until my last words were only a whisper.

            His first reaction was shock.  Then confusion, and then grief.  He was disappointed, I could tell with his sorry eyes that he felt bad for me.  And as if a sudden storm overtook his mind, he glared and shook his head. 

            “How could you?” he spat, scolding me as if I were a dog.  Mind as well bring out the water bottle and spray my face.

            “How could you?  You cheated on me with so many girls that you can’t even remember how many?!” I sputtered, grasping for any control.  Which I had none of.

            “Well I’m not the one who almost murdered their boyfriend!” he argued, rage weaved through his tone.

            “Well I’m not the one who used to date a rude sluts, and sold drugs to parents who had children to come home too?!” I shot, crossing the line.

            He snorted out loud, and rolled his eyes.  “That was years ago!  I’m better than that now—”

            “No you aren’t!”  Then my patience level reached its highest point.  “You never will be okay.  You never will get better.  No matter how many brain surgeries you have, you will always remember.  Remember all the lives and hearts you’ve broken, including mine!”

            Coldly snapping out of bed, I whipped the sheets over and stormed out of the room.  I fought myself to not look back at his reaction, but I knew it wouldn’t have been pretty. 

            Hustling down the narrow hallway, I grabbed a lab coat from the rack outside of the office, ditching through the fire exit.  Alarms went off, making me run harder.

            Cold puffs of air breathed from my mouth, my calves beginning to ache.

            Have you ever just ran, but you never knew where you were going, or didn’t care?  You just wanted to escape from the world, and be alone?  Afraid of everything around you, not wanting to get swallowed by the darkness behind?            

            Finding myself stranded, I stopped, letting the darkness catch up.  In the middle of nowhere, tall trees were the canopy of the night sky, almost shadowing over the black blanket above.  Was it night already?

              I kicked a rock, not a single nerve worried about where I was.  And yes, I had a terrible sense of direction, but I was on a one way road.  All I had to do was walk backwards, and I’ll end up at the nearest intersection, close to home. 

            So I wouldn’t exactly call myself lost.

            Suddenly, a large snap of branch came from the left, and I flinched, panic shaking through my hands. 

            Stupid day.  ‘Hello?  Anybody there?’

            Smart day.  ‘Screw you mother fuckaaaaa!’

            Rivyn.  Definite smart day.

            I ran like hell, ditching the idea of even saying hi, and bolted as fast as I could.

            Well, as fast as I could in a lab coat and hospital dress that welcomed air up my woo-hoo crack. 

            Just when I was picking up speed, a painful squeeze struck in my ankle and I screamed, collapsing forward.  My face slammed onto the hard cement, my previous bruise throbbing like a baseball to the temple.  Shuffles got louder, and I barely stood up, limping ahead.

            The gut feeling of close presence made me spin around, and throw a hard kick.

            “Ooooooof!!!”

            Even though it was dark, and I couldn’t make out my attacker, I did know when someone was off guard. 

            Throwing one last, hit, I knocked my fist into some teeth, causing a loud curse to pop out.  I waited for the sound of a fall, and bent over the stranger.  Scavenging their pockets, I pulled out a flashlight, and revealed their face.

            And damn, it was a gorgeous face.  Unconscious, beautiful lips g.roaned, and I checked the man’s pulse.  Steady.  That’s good.

            Unless he’s r.apist.

            That would suck, I thought.

            C.ock.

            He groaned again, and I snapped back to reality.  Right, r.apist in my custody.  Almost forgot.

            I roughly grabbed his collar, and glared into his flicking eyes.  “Who are you?” I threatened, shaking him.

            “Homeless.....saw you coming.....wanted to know if you were okay.....” he said, still dazed. 

            Ooh, he’s got a British Accent.  Hu-llo, lovely.

            I peeled one eyelid open, flashing the light, and he jerked upwards, sitting up.  I helped him up, stumbling slightly with my stubborn ankle.  “Are you all right?” I asked, aiming the radiance at the man.           

            Standing up right, he was a tall 5’9 guy that seemed to look only a year or two older, probably in his first round of college.  He reminded me of the main character in The Fast and Furious movies, O’Brian Connor?  Or was it Brian O’Connor?  Something like that.  A queasy feeling made my stomach flinch as I thought about Brian Daniels, and I quickly switched back to reality.  Only comforted with an army jacket, and grey sweat pants, he shivered, but managed to keep a smile.

            “Nice hit,” winked the Fast and Furious guy, his voice almost purring.  Again, LOVE the accent.

            I coughed, biting back the rising heat from my cheeks.  “You asked for it,” I admitted.

            The man chuckled, finding me amusing.  And for someone reason, I liked it.

            Unlike Brian.

            Ugh.  Brian.  Why does everything remind me of him?

            Remembering why I was on this empty street in the first place, I shut off the flashlight, and began to walk ahead.  “Where are you going?” he called out, coming beside my shoulders.

            “It’s none of your business,” I snarled, walking a little faster.  Even though this stranger had stunning good looks, and an amazing accent, I still had to keep my distance.  Trust no one.

            Unsure what was going on in the dark, a light crackled in the distance, and it seemed to be a small fire. 

            “If you’re looking for a place to stay, you’re welcome to spend the night with us,” he offered, the accent really making me think twice about this guy.

            “We?”  There were more homeless people around here?  Were they ra.pists?

            Bad Rivyn!  Don’t always judge someone to be a r.apist if they’re walking aimlessly in the middle of the night.  Jeez!  So stereotypical!

            “Yeah, there Crack, Jack, Mac, Knack----”

            “And let me guess, you’re ‘Sack’?” I joked.

            He laughed, and it was a cute laugh.  You know, with the HOT accent and all.  “Actually, I’m Damon.”

            I shook my head, and stopped, turning the light to his face again.  “Anyhow Damon, it was nice meeting you, but I’d better head back.  My family—er, house, is waiting for me.”

            Damon seemed disappointed for a moment, but then perked up.  “Can I walk you back?” he asked, almost like a plead.  What was his problem?

            I wrinkled my nose, and gave a weak smile.  “Although the offer is really sweet, I think I’m going to pass.  I’m sorry.  It’s just that I don’t really know you and.....”

            He noticed I was getting awkward, and nodded.  “I understand,” he grinned, “but may I have one final request?”

            My face twisted, and frowned.  “What is it?”

            “Can I see your face?” he softly asked, the accent hanging onto the ‘f’.

            Okay, be honest with me.  Who in bloody hell asks that?  A creepy shudder was sent down my spine.  ‘Can I see your face?’  Like, isn’t that a bit disturbing?  Like, for all I know, he could take a snap shot of me with a hidden camera, blinding my eyes, and then throw my body into a potato sack, kidnapping---  Nevermind.

            “Um, I’m going to have to say no,” I answered, uncomfortably.  Turning around, he took my flashlight and shut it off.  Fwef!  Thank god he respected my privacy, or he would have known who I was.  And believe me, after the whole beating-the-crap-out-of-my-boyfriend incident, something tells me I’ll be on the news. 

            “What about a name?” Damon requested, once more.  I could tell he was desperate for any information about me, which I found very freaky, and I didn’t think he’d leave until he got some.

            I sighed, and crossed my arms.  “My name’s Megan.”  Brava, Rivyn!  Clean, slick and smooth.  Like a boss.

            “Megan,” he repeated in a husky tone.  “I will look forward to our next meet.”  His feet shuffled, and I guessed he was already starting to walk away.

            I smirked a little too loud, and headed the opposite direction, back the way I came from.  “Doubt that.”

            Supposedly he heard what I said, because he laughed, and shouted, “Sleep well!  Try not to think of me in bed!”

            I snorted, and continued to walk ahead.  “Sorry, I usually have a creative mind when dreaming, so there’s no promise,” I yelled, smiling. 

            He chuckled, and that was the last I saw of him, as I didn’t turn around again.

--------------------------------------*-----------------------------------------*---------------------------------------

            Stepping onto the deck, I decided I’d enter the Daniel’s home from the backyard.  It was probably around midnight, and everyone must have been asleep.

            I crept over to the flower pot by the side, and slid the key in the lock, slowly entering the house.

            “She’s not good for you, Brian!” hissed Mrs. Daniels.

            Hm, I guess not everyone was fast asleep.

            “Mom, I told you, I’m fine now!  She’s perfect just the way she is, and I like it like that!” Brian said, the two in the kitchen. 

            I snuck around the corner, only metres from the Daniels.  “No she’s not!  Rivyn is a terrible influence for you!  She put you in the hospital!  Why?  No one will tell me?  Why?!”

            “Actually, I think I’m the one who should be asking you the questions!” he countered, and I heard his hand slam on the counter. 

            Suddenly, a hot breath panted behind me, and I almost screamed until a hand clamped around my mouth.

            “It’s just Darby, Bun-Bun,” she whispered in my ear.  Without evening having the chance to speak, she dragged me up the stairs, into my room.

            Gently closing the door behind her, she stared at into my angry eyes, relief washed over her face.  “Why did you scare me like that?!” I asked, trying to pass by.  “I was listening to their conversation!”

            Pushing my chest, she blocked my way, and I immediately gave up, knowing I wasn’t going anywhere.  “Because, what they’re talking about is not for your ears!” Aunt Darby shot, her voice rising.

            I frowned, and surrendered, plopping onto my bed.  “Whatever,” I huffed, not knowing what else to say.

            “Why did you hit him?” she asked, sitting beside me. 

            I told her everything, about finding the picture of him and Charlotte making-out on the school web, and the snarky remark that was below.  How I was a slut like Charlotte, and I was just being tossed around like one of Brian’s toys.  I described how I ended up in the forest, but I left out Damon, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. 

Completing my story, Darby patted my knee, and I found it comforting.  It felt good to tell someone, the whole thing, since I haven’t talked to Klaire since yesterday. 

            “French-cakes, I understand all this stress you’re going through.  Believe me, my life was way more dramatic,” she implied, her eyes sparkling.

            “Then what do I do about Brian?  Mrs. Daniels already thinks that I’m not good enough for him.  Hell, I don’t even think he’s good enough for me!?  He cheated on me—”

            “And you cheated on him,” she interrupted, making a good point.

            Shaking my head, I buried my face into my hands and fought back tears.  Another clog sat in my throat, remembering the memory of how I cheated on him. 

            “Fat Baby,” she soothed, and a smile cracked on my lips, loving her nicknames, “you should try to talk to him.”

            “What?!” I barked, gawking at her.  “Why?!”

            “Because he loves you.”

            I gulped, worry raining over.  Love.  I hate that word.  So strong, and such a dedicated promise.  Honestly, based on my past, love hates me.  My parents said they loved me, and they’d take care of me.  My best friend said she’d keep me safe from all my fears, and my cousin said that he’d always watch over me as a guardian.  Except, none of them kept their promises.  They didn’t really love me.  My parents are in bars, not able to care for their youngest daughter.  My best friend gave away her first, and probably only child, fear breaking down her safety barriers, let alone even trying to save mine.  And my cousin is screwed up, his mind too messed to even remember his favourite niece.

            “I can’t trust him,” I said, unsure myself if those words ringed truth.

            A weak smile was faint on her plastic face, and she squeezed my leg.  “Oh, you’ll know for sure soon enough.  For tonight, I suggest you give yourself some time to think.  Tomorrow, I advice you talk to him.”

            “Aunt Darby,” I said, stopping her.  “If he loves me, then why doesn’t he just say it?”

            She chuckled and got up, getting ready to leave.  “Whatever it is, something’s stopping him from saying it.  I think he wants to admit it, it’s just that he can’t.  And I think—”

            “I should find out?” I finished, beaming.  “Then I guess I know what I’m doing tomorrow.”

            Darby winked, and waved goodnight, closing the door.  “You’re welcome!” she called out.  I blew a kiss, loud enough for only her to hear, and I imagined her catching it.

            Getting ready for bed, I cleaned myself up and climbed under the sheets. 

            Thinking as I stared at the ceiling, I fiddled with the blankets in my hand, grinning.

            I knew Brian have one last secret.  And no matter how long it’s going to take me, I will find out. 

            Even if it meant war.

 

 

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