Falling For The Bad Boy || Completed

Chapter 5

RACHEL's P.O.V.

I'm now starting to wonder why it's called falling in love when falling implies collapsing; and collapsing implies breaking. The phrase itself attaches weakness to the word love.
  It was Monday morning and I was in history, staring at Chase's still figure in front of me. He hasn't looked at me, talked to me, or even texted me and I want to know why. Not necessarily why he wouldn't answer. I wanted to know why he wanted me to fall in love with him. Why did he want me to grow feelings when he would just shut them out.
  'That's because he's a player Rachel! I thought we already went over this.'
  I run a hand down my face when the bell rings.
  Chase is instantly out of his seat and out the door. I didn't even have time to grab my stuff.
  I walk to my next period: Calculus. Great. Now I was gonna have to deal with Marissa.
  I sat down next to her. "Can we talk?"   I ask and she gives the slightest nod without looking at me.
  "I was in detention because I punched Chase. And this weekend, he somehow managed to make me fall for him. And he kissed me," I tell her.
  She doesn't budge.
  "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you because, I wanted to know where things would go before you started teasing me about it."
  She grins and turns towards me. "EEEHHHHHHH!!!!!" She screams and I plug my ears.
  "I'm so HAPPY FOR YOU!!!" She screams again and I shush her.
  "He's ignoring me though and I don't know why," I tell her before the tardy bell rings.
  We pass notes for the rest of the class, me explains basically my whole weekends to her.
  At lunch, we swap lunches like we usually do and talk about this situation.
  "Maybe he has something going on in his life," she suggests, taking a bite of my tuna sandwich.
  I take a bite of her peanut butter and jelly. "But he knows that I'd be here for him. He already has me liking him! And like I said in Calculus, we kissed more than once on Friday. It's like we were in a relationship for the short period of time he was at my house and then once he left, everything went back to how it was before he tossed paper at me that one day," I respond to her logical hypothesis.
  She shrugs and then looks over my shoulder.
  "What?" I ask, turning around too.
  She smiles and blushes, dropping her head down.
  That's when I see Zeke looking over here, smiling with his dimples showing proudly.
  I turn back to face Marissa with my mouth in a little 'o' and my eyes wide.
  "Somebody's gotta crush . . ." I teased her and she smacked my arm.
  "Shut up!" She yelled at me.
  "He totally likes you by the way," I giggled and she lifted her head.
  "Really?"
  I burst into a fit of giggles and she glared at me, finishing the tuna sandwich.
  "Sorry, I . . . I couldn't resist!" I laughed out.
  She rolls her eyes.
  After lunch, we go to the rest of our classes and I walk home when the bell rings, no Chase or Ryder to pick me up. I walk to school now because it's easier for me so I don't have to rely on someone else but it isn't really safe.
  When I get home, I drop my bag off and walk across the lawn to where Chase lives.
  I ring the doorbell and someone who looks like his mom opens the door.
"You must be Rachel, come in come in," She ushers.
  I step inside to see the most beautiful home ever. The outside describes the inside. Neatly organized, shiny, and perfect.
  "Chase is upstairs in his room," she tells me, going back to drying dishes.
  "Thank you," I nod. He must not have told her.
  I walk up the stairs and see the only door that looks like it would belong to a teenage boy. It has a 'KEEP OUT' sign on it.
  I knock softly but don't wait for an answer before walking in and closing the door.
  He looks up in the middle of singing some kind of Spanish song and playing the guitar.
  His facial features were soft until I walked in. Once he saw me, his facial expression disappeared. He left me with a blank face.
  "We need to talk," I say and he sets his guitar down.
  "Why'd you do that?" I ask and he furrows his eyebrows. It wasn't the expression I wanted but at least I got something other than a blank face.
  "Why did you act all lovey dovey and then shatter me? You stopped talking to me. You wouldn't answer my texts or calls. You just left. You only gave me a few hours to know you and know what it's like to have someone in my life like that. But you ruined it. You ruined what I thought could be something important in my life! And now you're just sitting here, listening to me yell at you instead of trying to explain yourself!" I turn around and look at the ceiling with my hands on my hips.
  I turn back around and look at him when he says "I'm trying to protect you."
  "What does that mean? You need to explain that to me because I don't know what you mean by 'trying to protect me' because right now, you're killing me!"
  "Stop yelling!" He yells right back at me.
  I flinch and back away from him.
  "I'm sorry," he whispers, standing up and stepping towards me.
  "I'm trying to protect you. I-" he stops himself and looks at my hand, slowly taking it into his.
  "Don't Chase," I plead, pulling my hand away slowly.
  He hangs his head but looks back up at me after a few seconds.
  "I know you think I'm hurting you but please let me, please let me explain," he pleads back at me, taking my hand again and pulling me back to him.
  I look down at him as he sits back in his bed.
  "I used to street fight," he breaths out. "My 'boss' wants me to fight again and if I don't, he'll hurt people I love. I can't let you get hurt Rachel. You mean too much," he tells me.
  Did I hear that? He loves me? Did I hear that right? No, must be a mistake.
  "You . . ., you love me?" I ask him.
  He squeezes my hand. "Rachel, you've become my world. But you have to stay away from me. I'm no good for you. You'll get hurt."
  "I don't care. I need you in my life. I've liked you for too long to loose this."
He closes his eyes and then opens them slowly. "How long have you liked me?" He asked, circling his thumb over my knuckles.
I scratch the back of my neck and I feel my cheeks heating up. "Almost seven years," I whisper.
He grins and looks back up at me. "You liked me in sixth grade?" He asked and I bite down on my lip.
"Maybe."
He grins impossibly wider.
"I wish I would've noticed you. I would've saved myself so much time on girls." He looks at my big jacket. "You never answered my question on why you wear baggy clothes."
  I look down at my body. "You really want to know?"
  Chase looks into my eyes and nods. "Please?"
  I bite my lip. "Fine," I sigh.
  I slowly lift up my jacket, revealing my flat, toned torso.
  Chase's eyes widen slightly. "When did you start working on this?" He asks me, running a hand down my torso.
  I laugh. "Around 14." I dropped my jacket and he pulled his hand back to his body.
  "This shows that I work out. This shows that I'm not a nerd. I already ruined that profile when I punched you," I explained, moving his head to look at his chin to make sure the bruise still wasn't there. "I got into trouble when I was 15 with some guys and I owed them some money that I didn't pay. They want to kill me. That's why I started working out harder in case I was attacked but I have to conceal it so I'm least likely to be found."
  "Man, a lot of people seem to want to kill you lately," Chase chuckles.
  I smile at him and sit down next to him.
  "Are you going to continue to ignore me at school?"
  He sighed. "Cameras," he muttered.
  "When will you talk to me again?" I ask with a strongly pained expression.
  I know he sees my pain. "I have a fight this Friday. If I win, I'll be with you. I promise."
  "What happens if you don't win?" I ask.
  He looked at me. "I have to fight for them."
  I keep asking him questions. "For how long?"
  He squeezes my hand. "Until someone I love takes my place."
  I place a hand over my mouth. "Chase, I . ." I didn't know what to say.
  "I'm going to win."
  It was a statement. A strong hard statement.
  "If you don't win -"
  "I'm going to win," he cuts me off.
  "If you don't win," I start again "I will take your place."
  "No!" He yells at me.
  "I'm not letting you fight for the rest of your life. I already owe a lot people things. This'll be my punishment."
  "I'm going to win Rache. I'll win for you. I'll win for us."
  "I don't want you getting hurt," I complained.
  "I fought for years to pay off my brother's debt from buying drugs. He is in therapy in Costa Rica. I stopped fighting when he started therapy. I've been in the fighting world long enough to fight almost everyone in the world of fighting. I'll be fine."
  "One condition."
  He looks at me with a sarcastic look. "What now?" And laughs.
  "I'll be there."
  He scoffs at me. Not to be rude but because he thought my idea was dumb.
  "I don't want them finding out about us."
  "One condition," I repeat.
  "Fine, but you better arrive way after I do and don't cheer for me."
  "Ugh, fine. What time should I be there? And where am I supposed to be at what time?"
  He chuckles. "You know the alley down by 5th?"
  I nod my head.
  "It's going to be there and you should probably arrive around 7:30. I'll be there at 5:00 but I have to talk money and get prepared. I also have to find out who I'm fighting," he explains.
  "Please be careful," I whisper to him.
  "I'll be fine. Tell you what, if and when I do win, I'll take you out on a date. A real date. And if you are still into me after that, maybe we can be more than neighbors with benefits."
  I laugh and nod. "I like that idea."
  He wraps his arm around my waist and leans his forehead against mine.
  My breath catches in my throat and it comes out sounding like a sob.
  "Hey, it's going to be okay," he tries soothing me.
  "I believe in you," I sob out.
  "I believe in you too," he whispers in my ear.
  "Please win Chase," I cry. "Please."
  "I'll do what I can. I'll do whatever I can to win for you Rache."
  "You're my one and only, Ace."
"Ace?" He asked me, a little confused on why that was his new nickname.
"Ace." I nodded.
"I like it, I like it a lot."
"I like you more," I responded, starting to play with the hair at the back of his head.
"I'm gathering that," he said to me, smiling strongly but it wasn't quite a grin or a smirk. It was a strong smile. A firm smile. A smile that I wanted to see, needed to see, hoped to see, on Friday.