The Bad Boy Is A Loser

2. || don't cry about it

     The hallway was barren. Bright, white lights casted onto dark brown carpet and clashed with the white walls around them. Carter backed himself against the wall beside their door frame as he let go of Isabella's wrist. He put his hands in his pockets and inhaled deeply, eyes shut for a brief moment.

Isabella's head pulsed violently as she tried hard to escape the thought of being in trouble. The past twenty four hours had been a roller coaster for her. It began to overwhelm her to such a strong degree, she felt as though her knees would buckle below her and cause her to collapse right in front of the boy.

Alas, all she could do was brace herself and stand in front of him. Her knees wobbled like a newborn calf's, taking it's first few steps into the outside world. Her burning, chapped lips quivered uncontrollably and she clamped her eyes shut to stop the tears from flowing.

"You're really lucky I heard all that commotion and stopped her. She looked like she wanted to kill you," Carter began softly with an exhale, "Then again, I'm surprised you two didn't wake up the entire floor. You two scream like banshees."

Embarrassment was an understatement for what Isabella felt. She was absolutely humiliated.

     Slowly and reluctantly, she opened her eyes.

"A-Are you going to report me?" She asked hesitantly. She braced herself for the answer.

"No," Carter shrugged, "I'm not trying to make anyone's lives difficult. I was just getting my phone charger from my dorm when I heard all that ruckus. I'm the shittiest R.A. they could have asked for. I don't even stay on campus half the time."

Isabella furrowed her eyebrows with skepticism. "Why'd they make you the R.A. then?"

Carter's nonchalant expression casted downwards into what appeared to be bashfulness or embarrassment. "... 'Cause, y'know... I'm Carter Collins. The son of Calvin Collins... richest businessman in Boston."

     Oh. Isabella had seemingly forgotten that detail until he mentioned it. Though she studied in physics and engineering, she took an accounting class for fun. She didn't talk to Carter Collins often, but they took the accounting class together. She assumed by Calvin Collins being his father and taking accounting classes, Carter must be studying for a business degree.

     Some may find it odd that he would be embarrassed of being possibly the richest young man in Boston, but Isabella understood. It was difficult to talk about it without sounding arrogant or egotistical; and if people didn't see it that way, they saw it another. Others could take his statement and tag dollar signs all around it. Their eyes would light up at the sound of Calvin's name and suddenly, Carter Collins would be their new favorite student.

     "Oh," was the only reply Isabella could utter for the time being. It was sad, really. The school valued the opinion of the public eye more than the opinion of the students that inhabited it.

     "Money's what it boils down to. If my dad thinks I'm happy and puts a good word in for them, more people will apply here. Y'know, a lot of Harvard rejects go here. We're an Ivy League, yeah, but we have a lot of idiots. Examples are Brandi and Colton."

     A shiver scattered down Isabella's spine, causing the blonde hairs on her arms to stand up as Colton's name was mentioned. Though Carter was right, she didn't want to be reminded.