Breaking Her Bad by Michelle Mankin

 

 

 

 

 

Claire

Missy picked me up for school the next day. She didn’t want me riding the bus and dealing with Belinda, and I certainly didn’t want to risk that either.

My new friend was kind, smart, and thoughtful. She’d texted to see if I was okay before going to bed the night before, and I’d called to check on her. We talked a little about inconsequential things, and I was able to sleep some afterward.

I liked Missy a lot.

Walking into the building with her, I received as many stares as on my first day, maybe more. I wasn’t just the new girl—now everyone knew who I was after the events the day before. But I wasn’t alone anymore, and it didn’t feel as bad being the center of unwanted attention. Not now that I had a friend like Missy beside me.

“Did you finish your homework for Mr. Schubert’s class?” she asked as we neared the building.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “It was easy, but then I’ve read Romeo and Juliet before.”

Studying the play was different now because I could identify with the star-crossed lovers theme. Not that Kyle and I were lovers. To him, it had only been sex between us, but for me it had been much more.

When I spotted Kyle by the scraggly hedges, I stumbled.

“Are you okay?” Missy asked.

I couldn’t answer. I wasn’t okay. My brain was sludge, and my body melted. The world seemed to slow its rotation as my eyes connected with Kyle’s.

He was gorgeous, wearing faded jeans and a dark charcoal T-shirt beneath his denim jacket. His shirt matched his eye color when he was mad or passionate. The cotton clung like a lover to his chiseled chest.

I nearly sighed out loud and wondered if he was impressed by how I looked. Today, I’d repurposed my Lakeside uniform, pairing my white oxford shirt with my favorite pair of jeans. Missy had suggested I use the plaid tie that was a requirement at Lakeside to hold my long ponytail. Kyle’s hoodie was tied around my waist. Since he had my bracelet, I saw no reason why I shouldn’t wear his jacket. It certainly wasn’t because it smelled like him.

Okay, maybe it was that a little.

A breeze ruffling his inky hair, he lowered his Wayfarer sunglasses and peered at me over the black plastic frames. My pulse kicked up and other parts of me heated as he raked his gaze over me.

His lids lowered, his eyes darkened, and his lips slowly curved. He seemed to approve of my look, or maybe he remembered unbuttoning the shirt I wore. I remembered, and with him looking at me like that, my pulse beat hard in one place, and my legs wobbled.

“What is it?” Missy asked, then followed the direction of my gaze. “Fucking Kyle.” She shook her head. “He can’t even make it one day without being distracted by you. C’mon.” She linked her arm with mine and gave me a pointed look. “There are other guys around, you know. Better ones for you.”

Were there? I guess there had to be since Kyle and I were done. I’d made my grand speech to Missy saying I had closure. In my head, I knew that was the only option, but my heart didn’t want to close the door to him.

Reaching the steps, we climbed them while I reminded myself of the reasons I needed to move on from Kyle for good. He didn’t want me. He lied to me. He was a drug dealer, and I was antidrug. I didn’t even smoke marijuana.

On the concrete stoop, I flipped my ponytail over my shoulder and pretended not to glance at Kyle. This time I looked without him knowing. His shades were on his head, his unruly hair casting serious shadows across his expression. His focus wasn’t on me.

Had it ever really been on me?

A skinny guy gave Kyle cash. In return, Kyle passed him a plastic bag full of colorful pills. Nearby, a bulky blond guy wearing a Southside High red-and-black letterman jacket stood guard. Watching me watching them, the guard narrowed his red-rimmed gaze at me. I quickly glanced away, knowing I’d just witnessed a drug deal.

Kyle is a drug dealer. He’s not for you. Closure, Claire.

Holding my head high, I entered the building with Missy.

A guy who dealt drugs wasn’t for me. But a question surfaced that couldn’t be ignored.

Why is Kyle dealing?

I didn’t know the answer to that. Taking into consideration what I’d learned about him, he didn’t seem the type. He was gentle, protective, and kind. His actions were proof of that. Plus, he wasn’t an addict. He’d put away the joint when I’d asked.

Following that line of thought, even more questions came to mind.

Is his motivation for dealing important? Does he have another option?

In Southside, nothing was free. Kyle’s parents were gone. He was alone, more alone than me. Who took care of him, or didn’t in this case? He wasn’t of legal age. Who was his guardian? Why didn’t he or she put a stop to him doing something illegal and dangerous?

I shuddered at the memory of the jagged scar on his back. Did his guardian abuse him? Force him to deal? How did a scary, controlling guy like Martin Skellin factor in?

With those thoughts tumbling around in my head, I went to my locker in a daze. Missy squeezed my arm once before going to hers. I got what I needed and turned around before she was through at hers.

Turned out, she wasn’t done because she had a distraction. A big, tall, handsome one. Chad. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were melty blue as he leaned over her.

Just friends, huh?I shook my head. Not even.

Seemed she had issues with keeping the door to her heart closed too. I started to make my way across the crowded hall to join her, but jumped when the bell rang and someone put their hand on my arm.

“Hey.” The big blond guy who had been with Kyle outside ran his gaze over me. “You’re Claire, right?”

“Yes.” My stomach roiling from his touch, I tugged my arm free. “Who are you?”

“Randy Rhodes.” Based on the haughty look on his face, it was obvious he thought that name should mean something to me. “Damn, you’re fine. The glasses threw me, but up close, I see why Kyle tapped you.”

Hurt lanced through the center of my chest. Had Kyle been talking to this guy about me?

“You’re free to look, Randy,” I said, swallowing bile. “From a distance. But if you ever talk to me like that or touch me again, I’ll go to the principal and file a sexual harassment complaint against you. Are you hearing me?”

“Feisty, baby, and I hear just fine.” He slowly grinned. “It becomes clearer why Kyle risked so much.”

At that, I cocked my head. What did Kyle risk?

“I’m not your baby.” I wasn’t so sure about Randy’s hearing. He seemed to only hear himself. I was just about to attempt to punch through his arrogance again when Chad and Missy joined us.

“This asshole bothering you?” Chad asked, glancing at me.

“Stay out of it, Phillips.” Randy’s dark blond brows lowered. “It doesn’t concern you.”

Chad narrowed his eyes. “Actually, it does concern me. Claire’s a friend of mine. I look after my friends, or don’t you remember me handing you your ass last year when you pulled this bullshit on Lace?”

“You wanna risk detention again?” Randy lifted his chin. “I’m game, but I bet you aren’t if you want to stay on the basketball team.”

“Bring it.”

Chad threw out his chest and stepped into Randy’s space, and Randy leaned into Chad’s. Both guy’s nostrils flared.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

Principal Garrett marched toward our group. Students scattered at the sight of him and his frown.

“No problem, sir,” Chad said when he reached us.

Randy took a step backward. “No problem at all, Mr. Garrett.”

“Miss Walsh, are you okay?” Mr. Garrett asked.

“I’m fine.”

I certainly wasn’t going to rat anybody out. This had switched gears. Now it wasn’t about Randy crossing the line, but about solidarity with my friends. I might be ignorant about a lot of things, but whether you were at Southside or Lakeside, there were few things more despicable than being a snitch.

“Miss Rivera?” The principal turned his attention to Missy.

“I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear that there are no problems and everyone’s fine.” Mr. Garrett’s eyes narrowed. “But there will be a problem if you don’t all get to class.”

“Yes, sir.” Missy grabbed my arm.

Chad gave her a quick look before striding away. Randy went the opposite direction from Chad.

Before Missy turned to me, I noticed Mr. Garrett lean back his head.

“One day,” he muttered to the ceiling, where apparently the gods of high school principals lived. “Is it too much to ask to have just one day without any trouble?”