Badboy for a Boyfriend

Chapter 8

I pushed him off me the moment I realized we were finally alone. But that realization came a little late. Maybe about a complete minute late. I was breathless, lost, and confused. Meanwhile, he was careless, smug, and confident. He watched me try to compose myself without saying anything. Which I was glad of. I would never wish to hear a single word from him at the moment. Not even his breath.

The smirk lurking on the corner of his lips made me want to run away. My eyes darted from side to side as if in search of an escape but my body immobilized. 

"Razbill," he muttered as a start.

Our eyes bore into each other. It all came to me—last time's meeting with their family. Mr. Silvero called his name. That was why trying to recall it, it reminded me of a restaurant bill. It's the last syllable. It actually was what lingered in my head at first hearing that unusual name.

“I realized the family forgot manners for formal introductions," he added. I frowned: he shrugged.

I grabbed my bag from the floor to prepare to leave but he beated me to it. Crouching there, hia gifted bottom came to my view as he walked past me. My lips parted at the audacity — at his brave dismissal. 

I gaped and looked around in case someone's looking. No one. My attention went back to him when he stopped halfway to the garden boundary. 

"Oh, you smell smoke. A very expensive perfume."

I froze on my place not until he was done waiting for my reaction and turned around to leave me on my own. I lifted my palm to my face and breath. I winced at the distinct smell of smoke. 

Had it not for class, I would stay there and ponder everything that had happened within minutes with him. 

I walked in late to class, with a simple bow to the teacher in front all while daring to take a glance at anyone who surely had their curious gazes fixated on me and my current state. No matter how hard I tried to conceal the shock on my face, it just simply showed. 

Razbill Silvero had a crazy effect on me. 

Throughout the entire afternoon class, I was thinking of him. My hands were repeatedly clenching the small box of gum. It was empty now as I had thrown the last remaining three pieces to my mouth while I sprinted back to the building. 

I was blankly looking ahead that the other students would part to give ways. 

Dismissal, I was still in dazed. My mom texted me, informing me of dinner with them. She did not exactly tell with whom. It was simply a: be ready for dinner. If solely with them, it would be about my dad asking how my dinner with Dayshawn had gone. Meanwhile, if it's with the Silvero, I was worried. I would have to meet with that new Silvero again. Razbill, yes. That's the name. 

"George!"

Familiar voices of my friends reverberated in the hallway but I walked past them and the other students who expected me to turn back at the call. I didn't.

I usually smoke at school once and before sleeping in my en-suite bathroom. Today, I had a strong urge to have one puff again. I had never been this stressed out. That Razbill was indeed making me terrified to the bones. It was his mere presence. 

Perhaps, this was because I did not have a chance to prepare myself for him. I grew up preparing my whole being before facing my parents and the people around me. In practicing how to please them and maintain a good image and connection with them. And my name as a good daughter to remain engraved in their minds. 

Never in my life had I been introduced to the likes of Razbill Silvero. In fact, he was right. He was never formally introduced in the meeting. His presence was there and although the main purpose was to introduce him, it did not go well—but still—as planned, considering how his family sees him and how Mr. Silvero had known my father from the beginning. 

When I realized I had been too much to my friends, I halted. My fists were tightly clenched on my sides. They were inviting me for a group study in the local library in town. I should have come back and told them I could not go because of dinner with my family.

I was contemplating while watching the wide stoned stairs. Until Mikaya appeared in my vision. She was slowly walking down the steps. I knew I let out a genuine smile that very moment. I was willing to walk with her up to the driveway. But my plan was interrupted. My friends’ voices calling for my name from the second floor of the building resonated around the place. Everyone turned to their noise. They waved their hands in the air. A huge smile was plastered on their faces. 

I knew they were about to insist me again to come with their group studies despite knowing there would always be a bigger chance I would reject them. 

I broke my eyes off them to watch Mikaya as she quickened her steps without meeting my gaze. I failed to call for her as my friends were already running down the stairs. I could only follow her retreating back. 

That was how my eyes landed on the walking figure towards me. He was strutting the path oozing with visible confidence. Obviously, he was coming from their building. 

My friends’ excited voices faltered, as well as their steps when they realized who I was looking to. I tried my best to ignore Razbill’s presence from a close distance and walked to them. 

Their gazes darted from me, to Razbill, and back to me. I pursed my lips to demand silence. But my attempt to ignore his presence failed when he continued to approach me. My friends already were in front of me at that same moment. They were a little reluctant. Meanwhile, Razbill Silvero was casual like he had no audience.

“Uh…,” I trailed off and frowned. Everyone’s eyes were not solely directed on me. So did my own. I cautiously kept my attention to Razbill from the corner of my eyes as I did not want to openly stare.

I knew there was no way to talk to my friends now that he finally stepped in front of us, letting himself be known, and announcing his presence with authority to be demanded by simply being in the scene.

Of course, everyone assumed it was for me but I. I couldn’t even look straight at him because it reminded me of our super close encounter from earlier.

My first thought was: it was about the dinner. It had to be! He would not play around with me and what he knew about in front of my friends. I’m warning him — internally.

“Can I have a ride with you?” He raised both brows, shrugged, and hardly lifted an arm to gesture past the fields and to the driveway. I stood there utterly dumbfounded.

Sue had to gently elbow my side to get a reaction from me. All I did was blink and part my lips, unaware of my own reaction.

He grinned. Razbill Silvero just grinned.

Although I felt like having the same effect as Sue and Jean, who took a step back and stayed next to Tanner, my intuition told me I shouldn’t—never—because Razbill was enjoying an inside joke all to himself. And the joke was me.

“It’s the three of us again, I guess,” Tanner took the initiative to break the silence and pushed the two to move. He jerked his head at me and nodded as if to say: You know better how to handle this.

Which I believed I did. But with Razbill Silvero things always seemed foreign. It always was a different case with him.

Jean and Sue were reluctant to leave. I did not want them to go just yet either but I didn’t want to keep them from their group study. 

Our long quiz would be next week, Friday. But I knew I would not wish for all of us to be together either. Our group knew about him that was yet to be known around the campus. And Razbill knew something about me that I would never want to reveal to anyone—ever.

My heart instinctively raced the moment we were left on our own. Students raced down the stairs to go home. I slowly moved towards the field to head to the driveway. As expected, Razbill followed and stepped next to me.

We said not a word to each other on our way to the car. I had lots to say but my mind was haywire and my lips tightly shut. I was conscious. He was not. His emitting confidence touched my personal space and broke the bubble of fake confidence I built up around me. Every step felt like I was flying. Not on cloud nine because I thought I would faint in every second that passed. I was that uncomfortable around him. Plus, that I was not innocent to the eyes watching us.

Joe stepped out of the car to open the door for me. His eyes had already squinted to the person walking next to me before we even got to the car. He raised a questioning brow at me.

“Uh… he’s…”

“Hi, I’m Razbill.” He quickly stretched his arm out to Joe. I nearly choked on my own! Joe was undoubtedly surprised but not a hundred times as surprised as me. 

He reluctantly accepted his hand and widened his eyes at me knowingly. 

“He’s a Silvero,” I had to tell him before he assumed things. “He's riding home with us.” I moved inside the car to keep curious eyes off me. 

I did not know if they said something else to each other but Razbill soon circled the car and took the space on my right. 

I noticed how he refused Joe’s offer to open the door for him. 

I checked my phone to see if mom texted about this but there was none. Besides, I was uncertain if my dad would allow this. Should I ask them? Should I tell them?

“We don’t live in the same village,” I blurred the realization in between the growing silence. 

I instantly felt his eyes on me.

I instantly felt his eyes on me. It took seconds before I turned to him. He casually shrugged. I glanced down at his untidy tie to keep from staring for too long at his face. 

"I'll get down once we get to yours."

I frowned. Joe had his eyes on the road but I knew his own curiosity was growing on him. His eyes were filled with an unspoken question. 

"No," I said. "We should drop you off at your house."

Why would we let him walk from our village to theirs when we could send him straight to their gates? Besides, it was about three kilometers away. Neighboring villages but not a walking distance away.

"Wouldn't it be a hassle?"

I did not like the tone. But I did not know exactly what he was implying either. He did not act this way around our families. Though both sides of him still seemed rude to me. 

"You have dinner, right?" Joe spoke to inform me of my schedule. "We will drop you off first...," he then turned to Razbill. "Would you mind, sir?"

"No, no, I won't mind."

I certainly did not agree. However, I did not want to be late. 

The ride all the way to our house was silent. Razbill was silent. Joe was not asking if I needed to buy anything on our way because he knew I had to be home early. 

Meanwhile, I couldn't help but glance at Razbill every other second. His head was leaning on the chair. Still he did not look bored or anything. He was spacing out which gave me a free pass to stare at him. His eyes were fixated on the window and the fading city behind us. He had his hands steepled in front of him and to his abdomen. His coat had been long gone seconds after entering the car. It was now casually hanging on his long toned thighs.

Had it not for the eyes meeting with Joe through the rearview mirror, I would have had a hard time looking away. There was just something about Razbill that kept poking against my curiosity. Something about him was... enthralling.

Silence stretched between us until Joe pulled in front of our gates as I requested so they didn't have to get to the inside driveway. As our vehicle halted, Razbill let out a surprising question: "Are your parents home!"

It was not as surprising as everyone would expect but for me, it was. Especially coming from him. 

It was usually Dayshawn's question when he used to drive me home, which was before his training. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Roswell are not yet home," Joe answered for me as he realized my response was taking long—or wasn't coming at all.

Razbill shrugged when he noticed me oddly staring at him. "I was told I needed to impress this family. I left such an impression, hadn't I? I was wondering if I could make a follow-up to the progress."

I stared more. He's something else.

"You're unbelievable." I wasn't aware I had blurted it out until he chuckled heartily. 

It left me paralyzed. I didn't need Joe to open the door for me but because I wasn't moving, he stepped out. I grabbed my bag and cleared my throat. I faced Razbill with my head held high.

"It was indeed a remarkable impression. But if you want to keep a good record, I suggest you don't dream of being close to my parents. Especially my father."

Our eyes were locked with each other. I was proud of myself that I did not stutter and was able to successfully pull it off. He was listening intently and was closely watching me so I would believe he comprehend what I meant.

Stepping out of the car, I took a large intake of fresh air. Joe knowingly nodded at me. I knew he learned first hand how this particular Silvero was different from the rest. I forced a smile at him and without looking back headed to the small gate.

I said what I said. 

He had already left an impression on my father. It would last until my father himself decided to change it. I presumed Razbill would rather count the sand on the beach or pull the grass on the field of the campus than wait for it to happen. My mind stayed on him as I dressed for the dinner. 

He and Dayshawn were about the same age. But for some matter, Razbill looked a little more mature than the latter. It could be the way his presence changed the atmosphere in the room. Could be the way he spoke. Could be the way he stared. It could be anything or everything about him. All I knew he was... he was indeed something else.