The Bad Boy Thinks I'm Cute

Can't Handle It

I walk home with Parker's sweatshirt still on me. My mom doesn't get home from work for another two hours so I'm in the clear today.

I throw my backpack down on the floor and run down the hall to my room. Why can't I attract a good guy? Why does it have to be a jerk? Do I look like I'm not modest? Maybe guys think I put myself out there too much...

I look down at my tight jeans. Here I go again. I'm going back to putting myself down and making myself feel bad. I can't help it though. Something has to be wrong with me for me to attract someone like him and not even a sweet nerdy guy. I life up his sweatshirt and look at the tank top I originally came to school with before he gave me the sweatshirt.

You can see my bra straps and cleavage. No wonder I can't attract a good guy. I'm asking for a bad one. I'm dressing just to make myself feel better when I'm making myself look like a piece of trash.

No wonder.

I look down at my red painted fingernails and frown. I walk over to the mirror that is propped up against my wall and stare at all of the things that could seem exposing or make me less attractive. Maybe it's the blonde hair. Maybe I seem stupid and seem like the typical desperate girl that wants to feel accepted by the world. Maybe because it's halfway true.

I'm sick of my sudden changes of emotion. I can't handle it.

I'm just dressing like those girls my dad secretly goes out with sometimes. He hasn't been back for a month now. I press my hands on the glass and watch my breath fog it up. Tears start to fall down my face from the corners of my eyes, starting off as a light trickle then into a downpour. I sink down onto my knees and rest my head against the glass. I let out a cry.

My emotions pour out into a sobbing session and I let it continue. Why should what guys think of me tear me down? It is only high school after all...But it hurts. It hurts to know I look like I've sunken low enough to settle for the bad boy in school. And I will not allow myself to sink down to that level of desperateness and want. I am going to stay strong. I'm going to go to school tomorrow and rock the whole place with who I am.

I don't need a bad boy. I can be bad myself. I can go from dorky wanna-be -beautiful girl to hot, confident, and perfect-all-around-girl. I just need my best friend to help.

Ding dong.

I immediately snap up off of my feet when I hear the doorbell ring. I wipe the last few tears off of my face and shakily walk walk back down the hall to open the door. I open the door up to face Parker.

"How do you know where I live?" I ask in a whisper, hiding my tears.

"Jacob told me. He knows because Avril told him. I came for my sweatshirt that's all. I just-" He stops talking when he sees me with tears falling down my face.

"Are you ok? I-"

"I'm fine. " I say even quieter, biting my lip and trying to put on a fake smile as more tears fall down my cheek.

"No, you aren't. " he shakes his head and steps closer to me. I back up one step. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. " I close my eyes and back up more. I bring my hands up to my face and hide it so he doesn't see me breaking down.

I hate when people ask if I'm ok when I'm clearly not. Then I just cry more.

"No, you're lying to me. You are lying to me and I know it. Come on, Aubrey, what's up?" He walks over to me, shutting the door behind him and places his hands on either side of my arms.

"I-I-"I sink to my knees and hide my face behind the sleeves of his sweatshirt and let out an audible cry.

"Don't cry. Whatever is wrong, I'm sure it'll be ok. Don't worry. " Parker awkwardly wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for a hug.

I rest my head on his shoulder and cry. It feels good to have someone other than Avy or my mom to cry on. I feel myself being lifted off of the ground and carried somewhere. A few seconds later I'm dropped onto my bed. Parker sits next to me and drapes an arm around my shoulder, resting his head on top of mine.

"What's up?" He asks in a surprisingly gentle tone.

"You'd find it offensive. " I sniffle.

"Maybe. "

"I'm just wondering why I can't attract nice guys. I only attract you and it has to be because I dress like a prostitute or something. " I wipe my nose and fill his arm go stiff.

"I'm a nice guy. I'm just rough on the edges. And you don't dress like that you're one of the most modest girls I know. Is this all you're working yourself up about?" Parker says quietly, looking down at me.

I want to tell him about my dad, but something tells me not to. Not yet. So I shake my head and lean away from him.

"You know what? Even though this'll mean I wasted the gas in my motorcycle...you can keep the sweatshirt. But here..." he searches the coat he has on and digs through his pockets. "Have this. "

He hands me a bottle of cologne with a small smile and I take it.

"You saw that?" I give him a small smile back.

"I saw you smelling it multiple times today y'know. The smell on that shirt will fade and you'll have to freshen it back up. " he winks at me and actually smiles, not a smirk, and starts to walk out.

"Hold up. " He turns back around and holds out a finger to me. "Anything else I can do to help?"

"Yes actually. " I get up and walk towards Parker until I'm only a foot away from him.

"Tell Jacob that Avril isn't going to be able to hang out with him tonight. I need my best friend right now. Just get her to come over. Please. " I say.

"Ok. " He nods and before he completely walks out I stop him again.

"Wait. "

"What?"

"Why are you helping me? Why do you care?" I ask.

"That's the thing. I don't know. Figure it out, Aubrey, you're smart. " Parker gives me one last grin before walking out.

I turn my head and stand there. Confused.