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.


7. chapter 7: the truth is bloody...sometimes

Chapter 7:

            “How the hell do I actually have this much stuff?” I huffed as I finished taping the last box.  I stared at my hand as a small scar still showed by my thumb.

            I just moved to Canada about two months ago and I’m already moving to a different house.  Did I forget to mention with complete strangers?!

            Darby ran up the stairs, her curlers in her hair bobbing up and down.  “Rivyn, darling!  The moving men are here to help us bring the boxes down!  And they’re handsome too so why don’t you offer them a drink?”

            I sighed in relief, stretching out my back.  “Alrighty.”  I headed towards the stairs and stopped.  “Nice curlers by the way,” I joked, rustling her hair.

            Her eyes widened, remembering she still had them on.  She bolted to the empty bathroom and tore them off, tossing them into a random box.

            I chuckled and hopped down the stairs.  “And you’re friend is here to help you too!” Darby called out as I reached the bottom.


            I arranged a box of chips and balanced out several water bottles as I headed out the door.

            “You need any help with that?” asked Klaire as she pulled up my driveway with a Ferrari.  She might not have the personality of a blonde she does have the serious bling.

            I grinned and tossed her all the water bottles.  “Hand these out to the workers for me?”  She smoothly caught them, while juggling them in her hand.

            “Show off!” I playfully shouted.

            Klaire chuckled and handed them to the workers who by the way were actually quite handsome as Darby said.  Most were about in their early twenties with big muscles.

            I offered them chips and they gladly took them, all looking hungry as vultures.  I mentioned where the boxes were and they immediately started hustling up the stairs.

            “So, how do you feel about moving to the Daniels?” asked Klaire, her hands in her pockets.

            Breaking the news to Klaire last night was a very depressing two hours.  It felt good though that somebody knew about my aunt's bank problem and my emotional problems with Brian. I didn't feel as alone, you know?

            “What do you think, Sherlock?” I asked rolling my eyes.  “That’s like asking if I’d like cookies on the way to hell.”

            She laughed.  “That’s a pretty good example though.”  I sighed and couldn’t help but grin.

            The workers paraded in and out of the house, lifting the boxes back and forth into the moving truck.  Klaire and I chatted on the porch steps, thinking about all the hilarious pranks that we could pull on the Daniel boys when she would sleepover.

            Just as the last few packages were heaved on, a high pitch squeal rang from upstairs.

            Klaire and I bolted into the house, frightened to what was going on.

            Another shriek came from the bathroom upstairs.  We both skipped two steps at a time up the stairs and slammed open the door.

            “Are you kidding me?” I groaned.  Klaire bursted out laughing, not finding the moment awkward at all.

            Aunt Darby was giggling like crazy as one of the moving men were tickling her.  Yeah.  Tickling her.

            Pressed against the bathroom wall, the two had their tongues tied to each other’s while laughing and tickling at the same time.  It was like a freak’n weird make-out.  Something that I wasn’t really interested in.

            “Rivyn!” jumped Darby as she noticed Klaire and I standing by the door.  “I didn’t notice you were there?!”

            This made Klaire laugh even harder until she was hacking.  I have to say though, her laugh was quite humorous.

            The distracting part was that the moving man began pecking her neck with kisses, making Aunt Darby giggle even more.

            “Why don’t you and Klaire go with the others and start bringing your stuff to the Daniels?  Johnny and I will catch up with you girls later,” suggested Darby.

            “That sounds um, uh.....brilliant!” I said, grabbing Klaire’s hand as I dragged her down the stairs.  I desperately wanted to get out of here before anything got intense.

            “Oh my GOD!  That was too funny!  You never see that every day,” she teased, nudging me.  “Wait,” her face went serious for a moment.  “You don’t really see that everyday... right?”

            I shrugged like it was nothing.  “I’m used to it.” I clicked the buttons to my garage key and watched the doors rise.

            “Woah, woah, woah.”Klaire raised her eyebrow.  “Legit?”

            I climbed into my car as she leaned against her’s.  “Legit,” I lied.

            Klaire whistled and hopped into her baby.  “Damn.  Your aunt likes to get busy, hm?”

            I geared my engine to life, the tires beginning to spin.  “You know I’m messing with you, Klaire?”

            She frowned, setting the gear backwards.  “You’re evil man.  Pure evil.”

            I snorted.  “Race you to the Daniels?”Klaire challenged as the moving truck pulled out, already heading to my new home.

            I grinned, riding the sounds of the engine coming to life.  I blasted the radio until I felt the car vibrating to the beat.  “Bring it on, bitch.”

            We both sped down the roads, all the pedestrians gawked at us in awe.  The sound of the Club beat pumped the waves of the streets.

            I howled out a cowboy yelp as I blasted forward, passing her car, straight into the Daniels gigantic driveway.  I halted to a stop, only inches from their garage door.

            My tires left a deep mark into the cement, the rubber still burning.  “Yeah baby!” I shouted, pumping my fist.  I leaped out of the car and ran over to Klaire who slowly parked behind me.

            “Taste the sour taste of losing, Klaire!  TASTE IT!” I hollered.

            Klaire gracefully strutted out of her car and flipped her hair in an annoyed look.  “Yeah, yeah.  I’m not exactly the street racing type.”  She rolled her eyes and grinned.  “And by the way, how the hell did you get that fast.”

            “Skills, bro.Skills.”  Then I realized that the music was still blaring from my car.

            My ears perked as I heard the front door of the mansion slam shut.  “Hey!  What’s all the noise?” yelled Chris, trying to get over the music.  ((Brian’s friend))

            “WHAT!?” I yelled, pretending I didn’t hear him.

            “I SAID,” Chris headed towards us, still in his pyjama boxers and black shirt.  “SHUT THAT MUSIC OFF!”

            I smiled and ran over to my car, bumping up the volume to twice as loud.  I shot him a thumbs up as he gave me an evil look in return.

            Klaire giggled then began to bob her head to the music.  I caught on and started dancing as she shimmied over.

            Chris sighed and joined our mini party.  I swayed my hips and laughed as Chris and Klaire rocked the ‘Sprinkler’.

            A pair of hands landed onto my waist, guiding my movement.  I went along with it, the beat matching our flow.  I could feel my partner pressing against my back, his minty breathe breathing into my ear.

            Woah.  Say what?  I spun around came face to face with Noah who had a golden grin, like he just scored the lottery.

            “You got good move’s,” he complimented.

            This was really awkward.

            “WHAT?!” I shouted, pretending I didn’t hear him.  The music was very overpowering compared to my voice.  He immediately shut it off, making Klaire and Chris stop dancing.


            BRIAN’S P.O.V


            “Mooooomm!” I yelled, parading down the stairs.

            Dishes banged against each other as I inched closer to the kitchen.  “Mooooomm!”

            “What is it now, Brian,” my mom sighed, her eyes were slightly weary and I swear a small wrinkle appeared on her forehead.

            I grabbed a bag of chips from the cabinet and popped it open.  “Have you seen Noah?”

            She stopped the tap and wiped her hands on the dish rag.  “Yes.  He’s out to buy some food for our guests.”

            “Guests?” I questioned, crumbs of chips sprinkling onto the floor. “You never mentioned anything about guests.”

            My mom snorted.  “Well, if you’d pay more attention at the dinner table then you’d probably know about our ‘guests’.  They’re staying with us for a few months because of some several issues.”

            “Like what?” I said, sliding out a chair.

            “Don’t you remember the DeLor family?”

            “The one that lived near the downtown area?  Yeah. Didn’t their family have like….problems?”

            She nodded her head and leaned against the marble counter.  “Yes, Brian.  Don’t you remember the time when you…” she gripped the edge of the table, “were a……”

            I rolled my eyes.  “I remember that time so why don’t you just get the point.”

            She smiled, putting back her charming business lady tone on.  “Well, I decided to give back the favour and let the sweet daughter of those rehab freaks and her aunt to come live with us,” my mom chirped.   “At least we could save her reputation from her parents.”

            “So you mean to tell me,” I said, eyeing her.  “We’re letting a bunch of strangers from once fugitive parents come live in our home because you feel bad?”

            She registered that thought for a second and then glanced back at me.  “Sounds about right.”

            “Okay….. how old is the girl?”

            My mom began to stack the plates from the dishwasher, once again creating more noise.  “Same age as you. Her names Rivyn.”

            “Rivyn?!” I coughed, almost choking on a chip.

            “Mmhhmmm,” she said, not even bothering to ask if I was okay.

            I crinkled the bag into my hands and walked out of the kitchen up to my room.  Closing the door I laid flat on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.


            I thought I’d never hear that name again.  Last time I saw her was in Canada, in one of the clubs.  Wasted as hell I still remembered every moment… all except her appearance.  I know, weird but it was all a blur.  I heard everything clearly, just not vision wise.

Her warm hands slapped me hard, ears ringing I slouched to the wall.  My sweaty hands lifted the beer as I took a swig of the burning liquid.

“Why the hell did you do that to her?!” she yelled.

I shrugged.  “She was hot.”  Laughs came from all directions.  Blurs were dancing on tables.  Lights flashing.

“You got her pregnant.”

I giggled and offered the glass bottle.  “Want some, baby?”

She shouted more curses and slapped me in the face again.  I winced at the pain, a shot of anger raged up to my head.

I was blazing.

Fireworks exploded.

I stood up straight and smashed the bottle to the ground.  Shards of glass flew.

Rivyn screamed, griping her hand. The odor of blood travelled up my nose.  Suddenly a fist flew.

The hard knuckles targeted my eye, directing the power straight into my vision.  I crumpled to the ground, clutching my eye.  “Nice hit!” I gurgled, the pricks of glass poked my skin.

She screamed frustrated and then that’s when I black out.

I woke up the next morning with the party trashed and with a sexy black eye.  Dried blood stuck to my clothes.  I glanced myself in the bathroom mirror.  It looked like I’d been a fight or I got punched pretty good.

Which was true except for the fact that it was by a girl.


The only girl that ever threw a punch at me.

The only one that stood up to me.

Me.  Brian Daniels.

The one who never took a punch.

Especially by a girl.

I sighed and stood up.  I needed a walk.

Suddenly I remembered something.  Piecing everything together, I blinked twice to see if I was correct.

Rivyn is coming to live in America.

In my house.

One room down from me.


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