What Even Is A Bad Boy? [Completed]

Chapter 2

Heeeyyyy wassup everyone welcome back for another chapter of my awful story!

I'll try to update as often as I can or whenever I get a really good idea. So the last chapter was pretty long and had a lame ending. :/ my bad. I couldn't figure how to end it. Hopefully this chapter will be better.

As always my lovelies if you enjoy the book please share with your friends! We love views!

Now lets get into this good shit!

Winku ;)
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Jacksons POV:

Rich schools suck. Rich towns suck. Rich people and their bratty kids suck. My school was Oakland Academy. Playground for the stupid and wealthy. Every kid there has parents who slathered their kids in money, then dipped them in gold. They were prissy, arrogant, and spoiled brats. Well except for one. Layla Tulay. I've gone to school with her since middle school, but I've never spoken with her. She was quiet, intelligent, very cute, and even though her parents were rich, she didn't pay attention to the hierarchy that took over our schools.

The hierarchy is the system in which everyone is placed based on their parents. Up first were The Heirs. People who would inherit their parents company, future CEO's. Layla and her friend fell under that. Next there were The Producers. Their parents ran tv companies, radio stations. They were companies that produced singers, actors, and models. Then there were The Designers. These kids parents were actually models or run a design company. The Social Care group were kids of secretaries, maids, and cooks. Maybe a mistress or two. These kids would basically be the right hand man of The Heirs. Finally there was The Scholarship group. They were the kids who got in through taking an extremely difficult entrance exam. They were the bottom of the totem pole. I was a scholarship kid.

But I wasn't going to let some spoiled brats get the best of me. I came to the school and since I was attractive and smart, girls started clinging to me. I only played around with them for a little while before dropping them. I became the school "bad boy." I didn't really care. My grades were excellent so the teachers overlooked everything else.

I thought about all of this while getting ready. My head filled with thought of school, but mostly Layla. I took a quick shower and walked over to my dresser. I pulled out black jeans, a black long sleeve shirt, and put on my socks and black converse. I dry my wet hair with a towel, brush my teeth and walk down the hallway to where my mom was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. My little sister, Stephanie, had her head on the table sleeping. My mom turns around and holds a finger to her lips.

My mom was a small but beautiful women. She had long blonde hair that was pulled into a ponytail. Her warm chocolate eyes smiled up at me when I came over and kissed the top of her head. She had me when she was 16 and my sister when she was 29. My little sister resembles her father. Light blonde hair, green eyes, and pale skin. She was such a cutie. And she knew it too. I resembled my father. I looked nothing like my mom or my sister and it angered me. My father was a deadbeat no doubt, but my mother always defended him. I never understood why, but I wasn't going to ask.

I pull out a chair as mom puts a plate of eggs, bacon, and orange slices down in front of me, as well as a small up of black coffee. I smile gratefully at her before quickly shoveling the food into my mouth. I gulp down the coffee, place my cup and plate in the sink and kiss my sister and mom on the head.

"Bye mom. Will I see you after school?" I ask pulling on my leather jacket. I grabbed black gloves, and a beanie before slipping on my backpack.