Breaking Her Bad by Michelle Mankin

 

 

 

 

 

Claire

“Finally, we can talk without interruption,” Missy said. Setting her lunch tray on the table, she took a seat on the bench beside me in the cafeteria.

“Yes,” I said.

I had a lot of questions, and nearly all involved Kyle, even though I probably shouldn’t want to know. He’d left me, tossed my bracelet aside, and today he’d just stood there and watched Belinda take it away from me. Asking questions could give me answers I wouldn’t like.

“First, where did you get those red boots?” Missy asked. When I didn’t immediately tell her, she shifted on the bench and gave me an expectant look.

“They’re odd, I know. Like me.”

“You’re not odd, Claire. Just different. There’s nothing wrong with being different, though it can get you into trouble. If you ever want to go shopping with me, I’ll bet we can find some things that are inexpensive and more like what the other girls wear.”

“I’d like that,” I said. “But I don’t really have any money to get new clothes right now.”

“I understand.” She nodded, then gave me a sly look. “Sometimes freebies come my way.”

“Free would work.”

Missy’s blue eyes sparkled excitedly. “Good. We’ll make a day of it, one Saturday. I like putting together outfits. With your figure, it’ll be easy to find lots of pieces that work.” Scanning me, she said, “I like your boots, by the way. We’ll use them as a jumping-off point.”

“Thank you.” My cheeks warmed. “I like them too. They’re more than just shoes to me.”

I pulled in a breath and let it out in a rush. I liked Missy. She was nice to me, sticking by me during all our classes so far. That meant a lot. It took the awkwardness out of being the new girl to have her beside me, so helpful and kind.

Because she’d been real with me from the start, I decided to be real with her too.

“I was unpopular at my old school. I got made fun of a lot.”

Missy scowled. “Why?”

She seemed disbelieving and indignant on my behalf. I liked that. I liked her.

“For being interested in birds, mostly.” Though when it came to bullying, I didn’t think there was a reason beyond the bully being mean. “When I stumbled on the website for Duckfeet, I bought the boots because of the name, but they’re also comfortable and waterproof. I used to have others, but we sold nearly everything before we moved here.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe they picked on you for liking birds.”

“They called me the duck girl and quacked at me. It was stupid, and it really sucked.”

“Sometimes I really hate people our age.”

I gave that some consideration, thinking about my friends from Lakeside, Ella and Rhonda. They had come to the funeral, and Ella had tried to call several times before we moved away. But mostly I thought of Kyle, the Kyle I’d known in Lakeside. I hadn’t figured out the Southside version of him yet.

I shrugged. “They’re not all bad.”

“You’re right.” Giving me a long look, Missy placed her hand over mine. “You’re cool, Claire, your own person. And tough, considering the way you stood up to Belinda. I’m sorry your classmates were shits to you at your old school.”

“Thanks, Missy.”

“Fuck anyone who doesn’t like you and wants you to be like everyone else. Let’s keep your current look and just kick it up a notch. Fuck anyone who can’t handle it.” Her tone was vehement, and I got the idea her passion on the subject wasn’t only about me. “I hate bullies and herd mentality. Smart people like us know you gotta be true to you, right?”

“Exactly.” I bit down on my lip. “That’s what my dad always told me. But my mom wants me to try harder to blend in, especially here.”

Missy nodded knowingly. “She wants you to play it safe and not call attention to yourself. Be like everyone else.”

“Pretty much. Yeah.” My shoulders slumped. I was resigned to being a disappointment to my mother. She and I were always at odds.

“I understand how you feel.” Missy’s brows drew together. “I was waiting until later to tell you. About me. I wanted you to get to know me first. But I think now’s the time.” She expelled a breath. “I haven’t had another girl look at me like I’m a real person who might be worth talking to instead of through for years. Not since I got tits and an ass that guys notice, that’s for sure.”

I frowned. “That’s terrible.”

“It is what it is.” She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but I saw the truth in her eyes. It hurt her when people saw her only one way, just like it hurt me.

“You’re cool, Missy.” I repeated her early words, but meant them for her. “I like you. You’re open and transparent, and far too humble. Thank you for making my day that started out shitty not so bad.”

She pulled in a deep breath. “I like you too.”

Had she been holding it, afraid of my response to what she’d shared? Her deep breath had raised her chest. Her curves were impossible to ignore. She was strikingly beautiful too.

Studying Missy, I got the idea her clothes were her way of protesting the way people had pigeonholed her too. Her jeans were tight, and her top was stylish. The deep navy color complemented her ice-blue eyes. She wasn’t trying to downplay her assets . . . she flaunted them. Like me with my nerdy bird shirt and red boots, she was being herself.

I identified with that. Identified with her.

“I should tell you something else,” she said hesitantly.

Her gaze dipping, she glanced at Kyle’s hoodie again. I’d kept it around my waist all day and had noticed her looking at it several times with a speculative gleam in her eyes.

“About Kyle.” Her gaze rising, her light blue eyes locked on my brown ones, and my heart stopped.

“I found you. Finally.”

Large male hands landed on Missy’s slender shoulders, surprising her. Her face drained of color, and she instantly tensed. But staring at her like I was, I saw the longing that flooded her eyes before she closed them.

“Phillips.” Swallowing, she opened her eyes and turned her head to look up at the guy. She had to crane her neck back a lot, and so did I. He was tall, taller than Kyle.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Rivera.” His blond hair skimmed his hazel eyes as he shook his head at her.

“You’ve been away at basketball camp all summer, Phillips.”

“It’s Chad.” His displeasure evident, he frowned. “Cut the last-name shit. We went to prom together, babe.”

“As friends.”

“Whatever.” He glanced at me before asking her, “Speaking of friends, who’s your new one?”

“I’m Claire,” I said. “Claire Walsh. I figure you might need my last name since that seems to be your thing. Or maybe it’s only a shared thing between you and Missy.”

“Good one, Walsh.” His chiseled lips curved.

With his wavy blond hair and unique eyes that were sparkling with humor, Chad was undeniably handsome, only not to the same degree as Kyle.

“It is our thing.” He aimed his gaze at Missy. “We have more than one thing, but she won’t admit it.”

Missy blushed, turning her head away. “We have zero things.”

“Keep lying to yourself if you want to, babe.” He reached out to capture a long lock of her black hair and rubbed it between his fingers, letting out a low, pleasurable groan that made Missy’s blush deepen. “Missed you.”

She sighed. “Chad.”

“Missy.” He grinned.

“I missed you too.” A reluctant smile tugged her lips.

“Of course you did.” His grin widened. “Scoot over, pretty thing. I wanna sit with you.”

“All right.” She moved over to make room for him.

He folded his long body in and turned to me. “Heard you got into it with Belinda Mariposa.”

“Yeah,” I said, and he made a face. Apparently, gossip traveled fast around here, just like in Lakeside.

“What’d you do to piss her off?” He tilted his head, and the curled ends of his blond hair skimmed his wide, muscular shoulders.

“It started with me offending her by just breathing,” I muttered heatedly, and my eyes burned with renewed frustration. “But it ended with her taking my bracelet. My dad gave me that bracelet. It means a lot to me.”

“That sucks. Doubt she’ll lose interest if she knows it means something to you.” His brow creasing, he hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Plus, there’s another interested party making a play for it. And willing to risk getting the shit beat out of him to get it.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Kyle Murphy.”

“Where is he?” I asked, my eyes rounding.

“Behind the cafeteria. Fight’s gonna start any minute.” He gave Missy a perplexed look that he passed on to me. “Didn’t you two notice everyone going outside?”

“No,” Missy said. “We were having a serious discussion.”

“Excuse me,” I murmured, not waiting to hear what else Missy had to stay.

As I pushed away from the table, my legs shook. Trembling, I stood and scanned for the exit. With the cafeteria deserted, it wasn’t hard to find, even though it was on the far side of the large space.

“Claire!” Missy shouted as I moved toward it. “Wait.”

Ignoring her, I slammed my palms against the exit door’s metal bar and stepped outside. A blast of cold wind that hinted at an approaching winter blasted me, stealing my breath. A large crowd had gathered. I tried to see around them but couldn’t.

“Who’s fighting today?” a boy in front of me asked another boy.

“It’s Neto from La Rasa Prima versus Kyle the drug dealer.”

My vision swirled, and my already shaky legs wobbled. The unsteady earth tilted beneath me.

Kyle is a drug dealer? I shook my head.That couldn’t be right.

“Get ’im, Kyle,” someone shouted, and I heard a smacking sound.

“C’mon, Neto,” someone else said.

Vaguely, I noted Missy moving beside me as I reconsidered everything I knew about Kyle in light of this new information. Things I’d made allowances for, I couldn’t allow for anymore. Questions I’d had that night but not asked, they now had answers that sadly made sense.

I recalled Kyle’s evasiveness about his job and the danger of it. His switchblade. His association with Martin Skellin, Ella’s dad, and the rumors about him. And Kyle’s absolute certainty that we couldn’t be together beyond one night.

Not because he lived so far away, but because of what he did.