Becoming the Bad Girl

Chapter 3

Three days had gone by and I still hadn't seen Raiden. I was feeling worse than ever about what I said to him. I was honestly giddy with hope that he would show up today.

Jesse was still here and every time we were in the same room he would give me a look that made me paranoid to no end. He would drop the bomb soon and I would be even further from my parents once again.

I sat on the front steps waiting to see Raiden drive into the school parking lot. If he showed up that is. If he didn't show, I would have to wait until Monday.

Luck must have been with me because soon enough Raiden drove up on a black motorcycle. Motorcycles were a death trap on two wheels; just saying. I got up and walked over to him. He took his helmet off and gave me a glare as I stopped next to him.

"Isn't it too early for round two, Peaches?" he asked.

I frowned, "I wanted to apologize." I said. He gave me a curious look but didn't say anything. "I didn't mean to sound rude and harsh to you the other day. You just made me mad when you jumped to conclusions."

He got off the bike. "Okay." He said.

"That's it? Just okay?" I asked unbelievingly.

He shrugged, "Yup." He said walking away from me.

I ground my teeth together. I apologized to him and in return he was rude. That was the last time I apologized to him. I sighed and walked to my first-hour class.

********

"Come on, start," I muttered turning the key in the ignition again; nothing. "Ugh!" I screamed hitting the wheel repeatedly. I let my head fall against the wheel. There was no way in hell I was calling my parents. Which left me with only one choice; having to walk ten miles home.

A knock on the window practically gave me a heart attack. What made it worse was that Raiden was leaning over to look in my window with a smirk. I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the door with a sigh.

I looked around and noticed the parking lot was practically empty. The exceptions were the teacher's cars, my car, and Raiden's motorcycle.

"What are you still doing here?" I asked him as I grabbed my stuff from the passenger seat.

"Having car trouble?" he asked ignoring my question.

With my stuff in my hands, I looked up at him. I pondered his words; was he making fun of me or asking a genuine question?

Nothing he said could possibly say would make my situation any worse. "Yes, why?" I asked him.

He shrugged, "Open the hood." He stated before walking to the front of my car. I gave him a weird look behind his back but nevertheless I popped the hood open.

I walked over behind him as he examined the engine. "How many miles does this thing have?" he asked not looking at me as he messed with a few things.

"Around two hundred and fifty thousand give or take." He gave me a look that clearly said 'what the hell?'

"And when was the last time you took this thing in for maintenance?" he asked like he already knew the answer.

"Um, I haven't?" I said guiltily. How is it he made me feel guilty without even looking at me?

"Well, it's no wonder you're having trouble." He said closing the hood. "This car was probably born before you, it has over two hundred and fifty k on it, parts are rusty on the engine and you've never had maintenance done on it." He said giving me an unimpressed look. "Why you have a piece of shit car in the first place is beyond me."