Bullied into Love

Enticed

John couldn't believe what he had said. What had gotten into him? To say she was beautiful. Nevertheless, the look on her face was priceless, her sassy mouth was no more after he said his piece. Yet, he hadn't said it to silence her. No, it was a confession of his. Since last year, he has noticed her from afar. True, she stood out because of her ethnicity, but it was so much more than that to him. She was smart. In English class last year they had to write poems. Hers was amazing, touching on loneliness and its effects. As she spoke, he felt drawn not only to her words but to her. It was like she was telling his story, but she didn't know it; couldn't have.

All the world saw of him was his charmed life. The spoiled rich boy who has everything, but others' impression of him was far from the truth. His father, the mayor, wasn't the man the townsfolk knew him to be. Behind closed doors he was far removed from his wholesome public image. Only John knew the depths of his depravity. But now wasn't the time to dwell on his morbid life.

It was time to finish the second half of the day. His crew followed behind him, chatting away about how they got Tyler. John could only think how Kimberli’s assessment of him was correct. He was a bully. He didn't even know why he had picked the fight. Tyler was standing in front of John and his friends in the lunch line when it all started. His friends had urged him to say something to Tyler. One thing had led to another, and they began shoving Tyler around. He didn't mean to push him as hard as he did when he fell in Kimberli's path.

The look of disgust and disappointment within her eyes made his chest ache. He rubbed the area, not pleased with how her approval mattered to him. Thankfully, his next class was English Literature, and he was more than happy that his friends weren't in class with him. They followed him like a pack of groupies, and he didn't have the self-esteem to tell them to back off, fearing they would never come back.

He entered the class. Ms. Clark, the creative writing teacher, was scribbling her name on the whiteboard. She was an odd lady. Short, a little on the chubby side, and it was rumored she used to be a nun. Which may have been attributed to her slight disconnect with modern social norms. She always seemed like she was from another time, by how she spoke and behaved. However, it might've been because of her occupation of talking about literary works written long ago. Either way, John had to pass the class. He excelled in math and science, but writing, touchy-feely crap always weirded him out.

He promptly found a seat in the back. Soon, more students flanked in, he greeted those who spoke to him with a clipped "what's up" and a nod. The problem with being popular was never being able to have an off day from the constant pressure of being on.

John slouched in his seat and closed his eyes, trying desperately to wipe away Kimberli's disapproving look from his mind. He opened his eyes to casually survey those who would be in his class for the semester. His heart skipped a beat when Kimberli entered the class. Her eyes scanned for a seat before her midnight eyes landed on his.

Well damn, John internally cursed.

He straightened in his seat and glanced around. Wouldn't you know it, the only seat that remained was the one next to him. Her face instantly soured as she too realized the truth. John gave her a cheeky grin as she approached. Though he hated the dismay she displayed, he was happy to know that all semester long she would be forced to sit beside him. He hoped she would see another side of him. His close friends weren't around, maybe he could show her he was a better person than she thought. However, as she took her seat, she didn't even bother to look in his direction, as she began arranging her supplies onto her desk. Then, she placed a curious-looking book on top. It looked to be something of a journal. John stared at her. Not able to believe she planned to ignore him.

"Are you really going to sit there and pretend I'm not here?"

"If I must," she answered in a curt tone.

John's jaw clenched. He stared away to see the teacher beginning her lecture. He shouldn't have cared; he should've ignored her too, but it wasn't within him. He scooted his desk closer to hers. Her eyes widened when he did, but she forced her focus onto the teacher.

"You aren't going to pretend as if I don't exist, Angel. Not now, not ever!" John said in a loud whisper.

"What are you, some sort of egomaniac? Why do you care that I am not paying attention to you? Doesn't your flunkies give you enough of a fan following?"

"You shouldn't speak about things you know nothing about. Especially when it concerns me."

"Oh, I think my judgment is sound when it comes to you," Kimberli countered. The conversation was over. She had won another round. John was officially stewing in his bitterness. In a moment of sheer lunacy, he swiped the journal.

"Hey!" Kimberli shouted.

Which garnered the attention of the entire class, and Ms. Clark, who gave them a disheartened glare.

"Sorry," Kimberli quickly said.

Ms. Clark returned to her lesson, but her eyes would dart in their direction every so often. Due to their newfound notoriety, any additional conversation was impossible. Kimberli fumed, which was fine by John because it was the first time he had seen her out of sorts.

When the bell rang, he hightailed it out of there. Kimberli, with her multiple books to pack, couldn't chase after him and she quickly lost sight of him.

The rest of the day he felt like a king. Yes, it was childish for an eighteen-year-old man to stoop so low as to steal, to gain an ounce of control over someone, but damn it he felt better. The rest of the day he didn't see her. He had to admit it bothered him. It would have been nice to taunt her, but alas, it wasn't in the cards.

Later, after school had ended. John went to wrestling practice. Once again surrounded by his friends, he was back in his element. He had nearly forgotten about the interactions of the day. That was until he headed outside. He said goodbye to his friends, before parting ways with them. He was midway to his car when he heard someone shouting his full name like they were his mom.

He turned to see the one person he wanted to see the most, Kimberli. Her beautiful face fitted with a deep scowl. She stood before him, with one hand resting on her curvy hip. John licked his lips, excited by her aggressive behavior. She held the other hand palm up.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me," she said, with a huff.

"You waited nearly two hours after school to retrieve your journal?"

For a moment, uncertainty registered on her face, but she replaced it with a scowl. "I wouldn't have to wait after school for anything if you weren't a thief. Besides, it is more about the principle of the matter."

John scoffed, "If you want your book back, you're going to have to ask me nicely."

"Screw you!"

"Oh, I wouldn't mind, Angel, but you're still not going to get your journal." She screamed in frustration, and it just egged him on even more. He walked over to his car. She was hot on his tail. He couldn't help but love the attention, even if it were in anger; he was still her sole focus.

"You are sick and twisted!"

"...And handsome and funny."

"I will not beg for what is mine!"

John began to open his driver's side door but frowned when he realized how empty the parking lot was.

"Where's your car?"

To which, she defiantly crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't have one. Everyone is not as wealthy as you are."

John rolled his eyes. Her sharp jab didn't go unnoticed, but he disregarded it to address the immediate concern. "How were you planning on getting home?"

"I can walk."

"Are you kidding me? Our school is in the most obscure place ever. Where do you live?"

"I'm not telling you where I live," Kimberli said with a scoff.

"Fine, don't tell me, but I am not leaving you here. So, unless you want to go home with me, I suggest you tell me."

"I am not going anywhere with you!"

The utter anger and disgust in her voice were unmistakable. No way was she worth all the trouble. Then why couldn't he walk away? He walked around his car to stand before her and got into her face. His height forced her to tilt her head up to hold his gaze.

He breathed in her scent, a light fragrance of vanilla. She smelled incredible, but he forced himself to stay on task.

"I know you don't like me, but don't let your pride make you walk. I promise to take you straight home."

"Sure, why not trust the man who stole my journal."

John's jaw clenched, threatening a stress fracture to his molars. He walked over to his car and got inside. For a moment, fear flickered upon her face. She must have thought he was going to drive off, and he very well should have. Yet, he leaned over and opened the passenger's side. She took a moment to debate before she sat inside, tossing her book bag onto the backseat. A playful smirk spread across his face. He could feel her eyes rolling as he began to make his way out of the parking lot.