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.


20. Chapter 19: Troublemak-a!

            “Hey, Brian, is that your bitch?” I smirked, crossing my arms. 

            He widened his eyes, and harshly shoved Charlotte away, who might I add, almost stumbled into the garbage can.  “Woah!  Rivyn!  This is not what you think.  She just got the wrong idea—”

            “Miss DeLor!  Did you just violate the school code of conduct, and talk back to Mr. Daniels?” threatened Mr. Gillian, fire steaming from his ears.

            I rolled my eyes, and got up, already knowing where this was going.  “Yeah, isn’t that how a conversation works?” I smirked, and headed for the door. 

            “You go straight to the---”

            “Yeah, yeah!  I know, the principal’s office,” I finished, and waved my hand in the air.  On my way out the door, I bumped shoulders with Brian, and ignored Charlotte’s death glare.  “Ass,” I mumbled, so only both of them could hear.

            Perhaps I wasn’t in the mood to cry, or I just didn’t feel like shedding tears, because I actually went to the principal’s office.  No ditching, no skipping school.  Just following the rules. 

            With a big ass anger-problem shoved in the back of my head. 

            “Rivyn!” Brian called out, chasing after me. 

            Not wanting a repeat of our first encounter, I still kept my back to him, and gave the middle finger.  Yup, and I was still heading for the principal’s office.  There was defiantly something wrong with me.

            “Stop Rivyn, wait!” he shouted, and finally caught up.  “Listen, nothing back there was real.  Charlotte didn’t know I was with someone!  The secretary asked me to walk her to class on my way in, so it was all just a coincidence!”

            Not even speaking a word, I casually walked down the stairs.  Surprisingly, I controlled my anger.  Weird.  Maybe it was because I expected this.  I secretly knew he’d be with another girl, and I didn’t want to let myself know.  

            He grabbed my hand and spun me around.  “I know you have ears!  You’re my girlfriend, and I care about you!  No one’s going to change that!  No one!”

            I wrenched my hand away, and poked Brian in the chest, bringing him a few steps back.  “I’m glad your ass is finally out of your head, Brian.  News flash, it’s not a hat!  So why don’t you tell your little friend Charlotte, to buzz off before I kill both of you!” I snapped, and stalked past him.

            Hitting a locker frustrated, Brian let out a large groan, and ran after me.  “God dammit, just believe me!  Please!”

            “Why should I?” I hissed, not bothering to look back.  Reaching for the office doors, he snatched my waist up, yanking us around the corner. 

            As I thrashed his shoulders, he finally threw my body down, away from the office, but rested his hands along my waist. 

            I was trapped.  As usual.

            Brian’s face suddenly softened, knowing that I was actually listening.  He better have a good reason, I thought, since I was ready to let my fist rip, right there and then. 

            He held on tight, and for my part, I felt excited by his touch.  However, I was mad and no pleasure rained over.  “Because you’re the only thing that I’m willing to fight for,” he smoothly whispered, “and I won’t let you slip out of my life just like that.  I’m your boyfriend, and I know deep inside of you, you care for me.  And I know you want to believe me.” 

            Now that, THAT is what I call a speech that not a lot of men can say right off the bat.  You don’t just pull out words, and hope they make sense.  They have to ring truth and honesty to actually mean something. 

            Even though half of me craved to forgive him, and kiss him like there’s no tomorrow, the other half just fancied to walk away, leaving Brian in misery.

            Gathering all the anger that desperately wanted to come out, and the forgiveness that wanted to be shared, I gave one beautiful kiss, on his soft pink lips, allowing for both our hearts to skip a beat.  Pulling away, a smile widened across his faces, and then---well.

            I punched him.

            Now there’s where my uncontrollable anger went.


            “You really are a knock-out,” Brian mumbled, holding the bag of peas to his face.

            I shrugged, and sat on the table.  “Yeah, well you deserved it,” I answered, as the nurse walked in.

            “Boy, Mr. Daniels, you’re sure lucky to have this young lady save you twice!  First you trip on the school steps, and now you take a walk into a pole!” the middle-aged women laughed.  “Next thing you know, you’ll end up in the hospital!” she joked, slapping her knee.

            He shot me a perplexed look, ‘Pole?’ he mouthed, eyes wide. 

            I chuckled, and glanced at the nurse.  “What would he do without me?  I think he should thank me,” I heavily expressed, over-exaggerating my point.  

            She nodded in response, and gazed at Brian.  “You should Mr. Daniels.  You owe this lady big time!”

            I rubbed my hands together evilly, giving a wicked grin.  “Did you hear that?  You OWE me.  BIG TIME.”

            The nurse chuckled and exited out of the room.  “Don’t forget the principal’s office, dear!” she sang to me, before leaving.

            “I won’t!” I chirped and jumped off the counter. 

            Brian scowled, and managed to plaster a fake smile.  “Thank you, Rivyn.  I owe you BIG,” he gritted through his teeth.  “Oh, what would I do without you?”

            Walking over to him, I cruelly slapped the bag of peas that he was holding, on his wound, causing him to let out small whimpers of pain.  “You’d probably be dead at the bottom of the staircase,” I coldly whispered, and gently pecked a kiss. 

            “See you in gym!” I winked, and left.



            “Are you sure you want to do this?”

            I grinned and stared at the large garbage bag on the counter, the sack already half full.  “I’m a freak’n demon, Klaire.  I’m made to do these kinds of things.”

            She smirked, and took a whiff off what was inside.  Her face twisted, as if she just ate a sour-lemon, and gasped for air.  “Where did you get this?” she choked, griping onto the counter for support.

            “Yesterday, I went to the butcher’s downtown.  I’ve been storing this in my closet all night,” I said, and punched the bag.  My fist squished right into the centre, and I quickly withdrew back, the feeling making me squirm. 

            I made my way to the freezer and opened it up, searching through the shelves.  “Where are you….” I said to myself, setting aside some containers.  Looking over my shoulder, I saw Klaire poke the bag, and then jump back.  She crept up to it again and did the exact same thing, somehow finding it horribly fascinating. 

            “What are you doing?” I giggled.

            “Just seeing if this stuff is alive,” she answered, leaning against the sink.  Her eyes kept flicking across the bag, ready to attack if anything jumped out. 

            Snorting, I pulled out a newspaper wrapped clump, and tossed it to Klaire.  “It was at one time,” I admitted.

            She screamed and dropped it, eyes bulging out.  I laughed, and shut the door.  “Those are the pig guts from three weeks ago,” I informed, picking them back up. 

            “From the science project?  Damn, you are a demon,” she said, kissing her teeth. 

            I wiggled my eyebrows, and emptied the pig flesh into the bag, madly shaking and mixing the raw stuff together.

            “Let me get this straight.  You’re going to pull a prank on Charlotte with meat?  Because….”

            “She’s messing with my Brian, she wants to drive a stake into my relationship, she’s holding the cheating thing against me, she’s a bitch, and she so deserves it from all those means things she called me,” I finished, ticking the list of reasons in my head.

            “But wouldn’t you increase the chance of her telling Brian about how you cheated on him?  You’d just piss her off even more!” Klaire exclaimed, very confused.  Her eyebrows were scrunched up, something she does when she’s lost.

            “You might have a strong point, young Jedi, however, she’ll have no proof that it was us.  Brian probably wouldn’t even believe her.  He doesn’t even know her,” I stated, rolling my eyes.

            “Actually, he---”

            “Oh!  And it’s just fun to sabotage.”       

            Klaire took a cautioned look at my evil face, and pointed to the experiment.  “So what’s in there anyways?” she asked, dropping the subject.

            “Oh you know,” I snickered, and caught the sack in the air, “meatloaf, raw pork, bacon bits, pig intestines, chicken bones.....the usual carnivore diet.”

            She wrinkled her nose, and stuck her finger in her mouth, pretending to gag. 

            “Whatcha chickita’s got their?”

            We turned to see Aunt Darby coming in with a neon pink jumpsuit, her hair slicked back with a ‘hot mama’ headband. 

            Klaire shot me a worried look.  However, I smiled and set down the bag.  “Just making a healthy shake.  You know how those things work out, always smell and look terrible, but are great for your body!”

            Aunt Darby brightened and wiped her sweaty face.  “Really?  Would you mind making me one?  I could go for a healthy drink before doing another lap around the neighbourhood.”

            “Oh, Miss Darby we’re not really---”

            “Sure thing!” I piped, and took out the blender. 

            Klaire gawked at me, and shook her head, scolding with an evil grin. 

            Throwing in some tomatoes, veggie juice, two cracked eggs, heavy liquor and a pickle, I glanced at Aunt Darby.  She was too busy reading the People’s magazine by the table to notice any mischievous behaviour. 

            Meanwhile, Klaire was yipping like a hyena in the corner, biting down on her shirt from laughing so loud.  Tears trickled down her face, and I mouthed her to shut up, but she just laughed even harder.

            “Almost done, Aunt Darby!” I sang, and grabbed a spoon from the sink.  Dipping the brave weapon into the bag, I plugged my nose and took a big clump of meat.  I heard Klaire hacking all over again, and I immediately shoved the nasty shit in the blender, just as Darby looked up.

            “Klaire, honey, don’t kill yourself in a corner,” she advised, and went back to her magazine.

            I snorted, and clicked on the switch, watching all the ingredients swirl into a disgusting brown colour.  Sniffing, I could smell death from the glass cylinder.  How disturbing.

            Klaire collected her cool and handed me a tall plastic cup, letting out one last giggle.  ‘It looks like crap,’ she mouthed, making another funny face.

            Biting back a smile, I served Aunt Darby the shake, with a little umbrella on the side.  I swear a bubble popped somewhere in there.

            “Thanks Bucko-Jones, I appreciate it,” she chirped and took one long stare at the drink.  Klaire and I shared a nervous looks, our hands a tad bit damp.  “Like you said, it might look like dog-sharts, but it’s good for ya!  Cheers to the law of physics!” she chanted, and tipped the glass.

            ((Sharting: Taking a dump and farting at the same time, hence the name))

            “Law of physics?” Klaire hissed to me, raising an eyebrow.  I didn’t dare to tear my eyes from Aunt Darby, and just shrugged.

            “WOAH!” Darby blurted, and slapped her chest.  ‘Yeouch!’ I winced, and felt my own chest hurt, just watching her.  “That’s some heavy health shit!  I think I just grew hair on my chest!”

            “So you like it?” I asked, puzzled. 

            “I mother freak’n love it!” she hooted, and chugged the rest down in one gulp.  Raising her fist in triumph, she slammed down the empty glass.  “Yeah baby!  Hit me with round 2!” 

            Klaire dropped her jaw in shock, but I stabbed her in the gut.  “Excuse me, Miss D,” Klaire said, “I’ll be right back.”

            Like a flash of lightening, she zoomed to the washroom and slammed the door shut, making the whole house shake.  I made a mental note to myself not to go in that particular bathroom.  Ever.

            “Hey!  We taking shots?  Serve us up too!”

            Brian and Chris zipped to the table with hungry looks.    

            “Alright, comin’n up!” I sweetly sang, and served them two full glasses.

            “Sorry for my rude intrusion,” Klaire weakly smiled as she decided to join us in the kitchen.  Taking one look at Brian and Chris, she immediately clamped her mouth shut with both hands.  Her cheeks puffed up, like big balloons.    

            I wiggled my eyebrows at her once more, and ogled at the boys.  “Drink it up!  Three…two…one!”

            Both guys shot the drink down their throats, and bolted up, slamming their glasses to the table. 

            Meanwhile, Klaire dashed back to the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door.  I cringed at the sound of her hurling out chunks, my body shivering in disgust.

            Yup.  Never going into that washroom again. 

            “Holy crap!” Chris screamed, and banged his head on the counter.  “Why is my throat on FIRE!?”

            Brian gripped his neck, his cheeks rushing to a pale shade.  “This is a strong drink!  What the hell did you put in it?!”

            Shrugging, I smiled at Aunt Darby who was already serving herself to seconds.  “And you boys call yourself men,” she snorted, and chugged down another round.  “Wooaahh!  Mama wants more!”

            I bit my lip from exploding in laughter, until Klaire came stumbling back to the kitchen, her cheeks steaming red and sweaty.  “You might want to clean your toilet,” she advised, gripping her stomach.  She quickly wobbled upstairs, probably to crash onto my bed.

            My clean bed.

            “KLAIRE!!!!” I frantically shouted, racing after her.  “DOOONNN’TTTTT----”


            “Go to my room.”  



            “Her place so—so—so—”

            “Neat?” Klaire offered, her black-gloved hand waving. 

            “And she’s only been here for three days,” I scoffed, and stood over her closet.  “How many clothes does this chic need?”

            Klaire looked at me and snorted, “Clearly not enough.” 

            Charlotte had boy bands all over her walls, One Direction just above her king-sized, perfectly white sheeted bed.  Get this, she even had the princess canopy over top.  Yeah, total Royal Ass.

            “Can we just get this done and go?  She could be back anytime now,” Klaire ushered, her voice full of worry. 

            “I thought you liked the whole spy thing?” I challenged, and searched through the drawers. 

            Smoothing down her tight black jumpsuit, Klaire fixed her high ponytail and sighed.  “I do, but I just don’t want to get caught.”

            “Relax, girl!  Bingo!  Roger, I have hit jackpot!” I informed, revealing her lingerie drawer.  Every shade and tone of bra and thong was neatly folded, and organized by colour and size.  “Damn, someone’s been hitting up Victoria Secrets.”

            “Let me see!” Klaire squealed but I shoved my hand in her face. 

            “Bag.  Now.  I thought you wanted to leave quick?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

            She frowned, and tossed me the bag.  I took out my black latex gloves, and cautiously took a handful of Charlotte’s clothes.  I was unsure which ones she would wear tomorrow so why not contaminate all of them?

            Soaking all her lingerie in the meat bag, Klaire slowly grasped the ones that seemed to be ready.  Wiping out Charlotte’s normal perfume brand, she sprayed all the garments until she was sneezing.

            “Are you sure she won’t notice the distinct odour of meat?” she asked, a little unsure.

            “Klaire, as long as something smells like her, she’ll insist it as safe,” I defended, and finished saturating the lingerie.  “Now spray away!”  Holding our breaths, Klaire showered the fragrance in the bag of clothes. 

            “Let’s put these babies back, and then we’ll be done!” I said, and quickly placed the garments like before. 

            Suddenly the door slammed downstairs, and several footsteps shuffled around.  Klaire and I exchanged worried looks and grabbed the bag.  Setting down the perfume by her lamp, and shutting the drawer shut, we tossed the bag out the open window.

            “Daaaaaaaaaaaddd!  I can’t believe you bought me the purple lace chiffon dress!  I asked for black!  Not stupid purple!”

            Definite royal ass.

            “Come on, Rivyn!” Klaire pleaded, already climbing down the roof.  Fast feet hustled up the stairs and I slipped out the window, closing it behind me as I grabbed onto the rope with dear life.  Like spider-monkey’s, we scaled to the backyard, cautiously making sure we didn’t slip. 

            Once reaching the richly 2-inched grass, we bolted it over the fence, booking it down the next few blocks until we reached my porch. 

            “That,” Klaire gasped, trying to catch her breath, “was awesome!”

            Laughing, I barged into the house, “Oh wait till tomorrow!  It’s just going to get even better!” 


            Sitting on my bed, I tied my damp hair into a bun.  It took two hours to scrub off Charlotte’s perfume from my skin, and man, my fingers looked like red prunes from all the viscous rubbing.  The anxious excitement for tomorrow was the only thing keeping me happy, and I pictured several ways in my head on how it would all play out.

            “Knock, knock,” Brian sang, and walked in with a dark blue pyjama top.  His plaid long pants went down to his ankles, the edges dragging across my carpet. 

            “You know, what’s the point of saying ‘knock, knock’ if you’re not even going to knock?” I flatly asked, not even shedding a smile. 

            He grinned, and leaned over, softly lowering my back to the bed.  “I do a lot of pointless things, babe,” he whispered, and pecked a kiss on my forehead. 

            I snorted and pushed his face away.  “Like letting that Charlotte girl kiss your cheek?  That was pointless, right?” I scoffed sarcastically, and crawled into the bed sheets.      

            “I told you!  She didn’t know I was with anyone!” he exclaimed, sitting across from me.  “And that was three days ago, so I think you should drop that now.”

            Smirking, I was tempted to tell him that I kissed another guy, because you know, it was ‘pointless’, but I decided to say something less stupid.  “Sure, and it seemed you enjoyed that little massage on the back during gym?  I saw her hand creeping up on you after laps,” I snapped, sitting up. 

            “I shrugged her off when she touched me!” he countered, coming closer. 

            I hugged the other pillow against my chest, and smirked.  “Two minutes after!  What do you see in her anyways?” I coldly snarled, narrowing my eyes. 

            “Nothing!  I see nothing!  I only see things in you, and you only!” Brian declared, his voice straining a little.

            Usually I’d blush, even though I hate blushing, but this time, I just rolled my eyes and smirked again.  “Oh really?  You seem really interested whenever she talks to you.  Have you even seen the way she treats me?  She hates me!  She wants to kill me, for god’s sake!”

            “Charlotte’s just jealous!” Brian cried out, reaching for my face.  I swatted his hand away, and scowled.  “Didn’t you know she used to be—”

            “Enough!” I barked, “I don’t want to hear another word about her!  Now leave!” 

            Brian pounced on me like a cat, pinning my wrists to the bed frame.  I squirmed, trying to yank away, but his grip was too tight.  “Rivyn, listen.  I like you, not her.  I want to be with you, because I-I-I-I think I—”  His eyes searched my face, suddenly hitting a wall.

            “Think what?” I hissed, watching him hesitate. 

            “I like you.  A lot,” he finally breathed.

            Before, I’d be glad he said, ‘like’, but this time, I was disappointed.  Yeah, I was afraid to hear Brian say he loved me.  However, I wanted to hear it.  I wanted to hear it now.



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