London's Bad Boy: Chapter 31: The Lake
NICK'S POV.
"I got it," I growled into the phone.
"Just don't f*ck it up like the two idiots I sent Monday."
"I won't."With that said, I clicked 'End Call', tossing my phone onto the bed before heading towards the bathroom. I walked past Nicole's room, her door wide open as she slept. It was around 11am, it didn't even shock me that she was asleep.
Kingsley High had the day off for a teachers meeting, or something stupid, which was the reason why Jake left an hour ago to go to Alli's house and why Nicole was still lightly snoring with her face shoved half into the pillow and half into the mattress.
When she came home Tuesday morning, she stormed into her room, coming back out wearing a baggy sweatshirt and Yoga pants. Already knowing Luke and Joe would screw us up, we were prepared. The events that had happened the night before clearly tramatized her. I would wake up to her crying in the night, or screaming a some night mare of the previous day. Sometimes Jake would come into her room and confort her until she fell asleep, but most of the time she would call her trashy boyfriend, Drake. No, that doesn't sound right. Is it Drake? No, Dan? No, that's not even close, Derek? How the hell do I not remember this!
I winced as I accidently applied pressure onto my bruised ribs. That idiot, whatever the hell his name is, punched me so many times in the same spot; I have the bruise the size of Texas covering my torso. That bastard even broke my nose. He doesn't look to tough, but that boy does have muscle, I'll give him that.
I got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist and shaking my hair out, walking out of the bathroom. Walking down the long hall, stoping at her room, I peered inside. She was now awake, her hair thrown up in a messy bun, fake glasses placed on her face as her pulled a sweatshirt over her head. I watched as she looked in the mirror, examining her outfit. She made multiple faces in the mirror before she was satisfied, moving over to her bed and plopping down. I smirked to myself, getting ready to put 'The Plan' in action.
NICOLE'S POV.
I layed down onto my bed once again, picking up my phone and scrolling through my Twitter timeline. I Retweeted multiple things before closing out of the app and laying it on my stomach.Tonight was supposidly the night that Andrew's 'Plan' was going to be set and ready for take off. Why the hell did I just compare his plan to an airplane? I was told yesterday to wear a fitted sweatshirt, one that I wouldn't mind getting dirty, comfortable jeans and my Converse. Drew and Tye decided they wanted me to leave the house around 1pm. I was supposed to look comfortable, making it look like I was just going to hang out with friends.
To say I was scared out of my mind, about to pee my pants, or cry and run away, was a complete understatement. I was about to do all that, and then some! I'm cool and collected on the outside but on the inside I was like a mental person in a padded cell.
I checked the time on my phone, reading 12:58pm. I rolled over, gracefully landing on the floor, before making my way over to my closet. I bent down, cringing as I felt a small pinch in my ribs. The pain wasn't as bad as it was on the first night, but there was still bruised skin covering my stomach. I grabbed my Converse and slipped them on. I stood up, grabbing my phone and slipping it into my pocket, before walking downstairs.
"And where are you going?" I groaned at the obnouxious voice from behind me.
"My boyfriend's," I rolled my eyes. I felt a grip on my arm, yanking me back and pushing me against the wall.
"Why?" Nick chuckled. I scuffed in discust, trying to push him away.
"Because he's my boyfriend, something you should probably get through your head," I spat. I tried to push him harder, getting frustrated with myself and just dropping my arms to my side.
"But, I was you're boyfriend first," he whispered. His head bent down, lightly grazing my neck with his lips.
"Wh-what are ya doing?" I asked.
"Can he make you feel this good?" He ignored. His hands traveled down to my waist, pushing me harder against the wall as he ground into me. A moan escaped my mouth, not from pleasure but from pain. "Does he make you this hot?" He whispered. I brought my knee up, smacking it into his sensitive area.
YOU ARE READING
London's Bad Boy.
Teen FictionMoving to another town, acceptable. Moving to another state, understandable. Moving to another country, that was complete torture. Nicole Andersini, a seventeen year old girl, and her brother were forced to move from the fun, energetic, NYC to the b...