Researching With the Jock {BWWM High School Romance}

Defending the Underdog

Vivian

The morning light seeps through my curtains, waking me up before my alarm does its job. I stretch, feeling the tightness in my muscles from the long night of studying. My room, perfectly organized with bookshelves lined with novels and albums from my favorite UK and American artists, gives me a sense of calm as I get ready for the day. Another day, another chance to navigate the high school halls.

I throw on an outfit —black pants, a maroon short sleeve V-neckline shirt, light washed denim jacket, and my signature eyeglasses. I don't exactly fit into the nerd category, but I'm far from a jock. My style sets me apart, but I like it that way. As I head downstairs, I can hear Carolyn and Diane already at the table, chatting about the latest gossip.

"Morning, Viv!" Carolyn greets me with her usual enthusiasm. She's already in her school newspaper club mode, scribbling notes about her next article.

"Morning," I reply, grabbing a piece of toast. Diane is quieter, flipping through a magazine, but she gives me a nod of acknowledgment.

"You're not gonna believe what I heard," Carolyn starts, but I tune her out, thinking about the day ahead. High school is a jungle, and today, I'm just hoping to get through it without any drama. But knowing my luck, that's probably wishful thinking.

We leave the house together, meeting up with Lisa and Luna at the bus stop. The five of us have been inseparable since middle school, and even though we've all got our quirks, we make it work. As we approach the school, I can already feel the energy buzzing in the air. Kids are hanging out in groups, laughing, talking, and—unfortunately—picking on those who don't quite fit in.

That's when a girl, probably a sophomore, is standing by her locker, trying to blend into the background. Her dark hair falls over her face as she fumbles with her books. What catches my attention is the group of girls surrounding her, sneering and making snide remarks.

"Look at her," one of them says, flipping her fiery red hair over her shoulder. "Trying to pretend she's not adopted. Her whole family's blonde except her. She's probably the milkman's kid."

The girl's face turns red, and she tries to laugh it off, but it's clear she's embarrassed. I can't stand bullies, and this situation is hitting a nerve. My sisters and friends notice too, but before they can react, I'm already making my way over.

"Hey!" I call out, my voice sharp. The girls turn to look at me, their expressions shifting from amusement to surprise.

"Who do you think you are?" The blonde girl sneers at me.

"Who do I think I am?" I say, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'm someone who doesn't have time for your petty, insecure nonsense. Picking on someone because she doesn't look like her siblings? That's low, even for you."

The girl with dark hair looks up at me, her eyes wide with a mix of gratitude and surprise. The bullies, on the other hand, don't seem to appreciate my intervention.

"Why don't you mind your own business?" One of them snaps.

"This is my business," I retort. "You see, unlike you, I don't get my kicks from making others feel like crap. Now, unless you want to find out how fast word gets around this school about your little habit of harassing people, I suggest you walk away."

There's a tense moment where they all just stare at me, probably weighing their options. I don't back down, meeting their gaze with a confidence I've built up over years of dealing with people like them. Finally, they scoff and walk away, muttering under their breath.

The girl they were picking on lets out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice shaky.

"No problem," I reply, giving her a reassuring smile. "Don't let them get to you. People like that are just trying to cover up their own insecurities."