Project Bad Girl [l.h.]

When Link decides she doesn't want to be a good girl anymore, things take quite an interesting turn.


2. One

When my mother died, it seemed as if I started to see the world in black and white. Of course, not literally, but in my eyes, the colors in my world have just faded somehow. I could say I miss my colors, but the bitter truth is that I don't. No, the bitter truth is that my mother held me stable and now she can't. She's gone.


My mother has never been the brightest person ever, not the happiest, but when she was cheerful, she was the happiest she could be. That was the same with my father - us Havens have always been a sort of serious family. I guess I'd say the same for me, but that isn't true, because when my mother was around, I was a huge goody two shoes, the best good girl there could be.


But not anymore. Now, I'm sick of being the good girl. If being the good girl is being awarded death to my mother, then damn it all to hell. To hell with being good, I'm going to be bad.


So what did I do? How the hell could a good girl like me suddenly go bad? What, was there some tutorial DIY on YouTube to help? Of course not. I needed a physical, real, badass person. And the only person I could think of is Luke Hemmings.


Luke Hemmings, the bad boy of Phoenix High School. Luke Hemmings, the guy everyone wants. From the first day of Freshman Orientation, Luke has made his reputation as the new bad boy at our school. Do I think that he'd ever help me? Probably not. But anything's possible.


I planned to confront him after school, on the last day, when he was alone. Alone, as in, none of his tight-knit group of friends. Just him, leaning against the red brick wall, smoking whatever the hell he was smoking. Marijuana? Weed? Pot? I don't know, and I certainly do not want to know.


And so he was. Luke Robert Hemmings stood, just as I described, leaning against the brick wall, smoking whatever-the-hell he was smoking.


"Hey," I called out to him, walking up to his annoying ass self with confidence. "Luke."


His eyes shifted to my body as he drank me in, a smirk on his lips as he clearly liked what he saw. "Hey there, sweetness," he licked his lips hungrily. "Whaddya need?"


"I need you to teach me something," I said directly, something I picked up from my mother's upfrontness.


"Which is?" he chuckled. "I ain't a goddamn teacher. I can't teach you mathematics or some shit, so you need 'ta be real specific here."


"To be bad," I said, a hint of nervousness in my tone. Reluctantly, I stated my case and started to speak quietly, "My mother died."




Oh my god, could this boy get any more obnoxious? If I approached one of the nice, clean-cut jocks and told them that my mother died, they wouldn't say, "So?" They'd reply, ever so sweetly, "I'm so sorry for your loss." Something a normal, non-sociopathic person would say.


"So," I said, speaking a little louder. "I don't want to be the good girl anymore. If being a good girl means my mother dies and other crap, I don't want any of that. Teach me to be bad. Please?"


Luke bit his lower lip, stifling in a laugh. "Rule number one, don't say please and learn to say real curse words, not 'crap.'"


My eyes widen, my expression getting brighter. "So you'll do it," I smile slightly.


He shrugged one shoulder, his head tilting to the side a little. "So you want to be bad?" he said. "I can help you with that."


"Can you?" I replied in complete and utter shock.


"Yeah," he nodded. "For a price, of course."


Of course. What did I think, that the crudest boy in the whole school would help me, out of what? Kindness? Kill 'em with kindness, as they say? No, not for Luke. He wanted something in return, and surprisingly, I was willing to pay the price.


"Right," I muttered, glancing down for a moment. "What do you want? Money? Drugs?"


He let out an obnoxious snort, "You really think that the good girl who came up to me today for bad lessons would have drugs? Or even the smallest of a cigarette?" Luke shook his head, leaning in to whisper in my ear, "I want something more, Link Haven."


"What do you want?" I growled.


He crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. "I ain't tellin' you now, or you'll never agree to this. Hell, I don't even know why I'm agreeing to this. So let's get this dumb shit over with and shake on it, Link."


Hesitantly, I stuck my hand out and my palm met Luke's as we held a firm hand shake, closing the deal. Just then, Luke took in a long breath of the drug he was holding between his two fingers and the smoke lightly but so aesthetically flowed out of his mouth. Embarrassingly, I coughed right as he held out the smoke to me.


"Go ahead," he said. "Take a drag of it."


Shaking my head rapidly, I sarcastically chuckled. "No way. Just because I want to be bad doesn't mean I'll be taking pot or any other type of drugs anytime soon."


He laughed, clearly amused. "You don't take pot? You smoke it, doll." He held it out still, but his tone softened when he looked me in the eye. "I'm not gonna pressure you, but if I was some goody two shoes like you, I would."


Sighing, I realized that the deal was official and there was no going back, so I took the cigarette in my hand before overthinking even more. I breathed in deeply, the smoke filling my lungs before I exhaled again, and an overwhelming sensation and unfamiliarness invaded my body and mind. Then, well, I coughed again.


Luke grabbed the smoke gently from my hands and laughed. "So smoking's not your forte. Fair enough, these things can get addicting anyway. We can totally change your whole look instead, without the drugs."


"Oh thank god," I said, relieved. "So, we're going to change my look then? How and when?"


He smiled for once, white teethed teen. "How about tomorrow, after noon? Maybe 3 o' clock PM? We can meet here again." He winked, "But don't expect me to be here on time."


"I wouldn't expect anything more," I said as he walked away, cigarette still in hand.


There's no going back now.

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