Being Bad

Chapter 27: Dancing Like Kanye

Lia James

"Are you kidding me?" I asked him in disbelief. He gave me a nod, like it was something to take very seriously.

"I wish I was." His voice going up a few octaves due to the amount of stress he's being put under.

"Are you nervous that they're going to do something to you?"

"Seriously?" He raised an eyebrow. "If you know anything about me, you would know that I never get nervous."

"So, why are you so concerned about them being here if you aren't nervous?" I asked, looking back at the men behind us.

He took my hand and led me under the bleachers, where we would hear the constant ringing of feet stomping against the bleachers. The sound of voices were faint, but occasionally were loud if our team did something that benefitted them.

"They want me to do something...illegal." He tried saying, without actually saying it.

"When is it never illegal?"

"Well, it's kind of dangerous and I promised my parents I wouldn't get in trouble with the cops. Not again. It's too much of a risk."

"You've gotten in trouble with the police before?" I asked in shock.

"I'm Andrew fucking Price, Lia."

Okay, he makes a valid point but the cockiness of his voice made me want to just leave him here to be found by those tall, muscular, bad guys.

"Well, anyway," he started. "They keep bugging me about going with them to do that illegal thing for months now. I can't let them find me." He said, his eyes searching for some way to fix the problem.

"Wait. I have an idea." I took off my Red Sox cap and gave it to him.

"What's this for?" He held it up, making it seem like it was worth nothing.

It was worth everything.

"Well, if you don't want to be seen, you're going to have to cover up yourself a bit. Take that hat and put it on your head." I instructed, and he did as I said. His chocolate brown hair smoothing back inside the hat, with little curls coming out of the front.

I dug for something in my pocket. "Here. Take these also."

"Aviators?"

"It'll cover up some of your identity. It's worth a shot." I shrugged, and he gave me a look of agreement.

He put the black tinted aviators on the bridge of his nose, and stood there. He waited for me to evaluate him to make sure he wouldn't be caught.

"I don't know." I spoke honestly. "There's something that needs to be done. I can still recognize it's you."

"I think this is fine-"

"Wait! I got it!" I put my hands up, making sure he didn't take another step toward the bleachers.

"Take off your jacket." I told him, and he looked at me like I was crazy.

"You want me to take off my leather jacket? This thing is sacred to me, Lia. There's no way in hell your taking this away from me."

"I'm not going to lose it!" I said defensively, wanting him to take it off.

"I'm not doing it." He crossed his arms.

"You're so freaking annoying. Just take the damn thing off!" I tried ripping the leather off his body, but he plucked my hands away.

He took off the jacket, and hesitantly handed it to me. It seemed like he hadn't parted with it since he got it, and a part of me feels guilty. But, he didn't want to put himself at risk, and I wanted to help.