The Bad Boy's Baby • Colby Brock

Chapter 1: One Drink, Two drink

"Amara, it's our junior year. At least have some fun." Madeline rolls her eyes.

There's a senior party happening tonight. My friend Madeline insists on us going. The truth is that I'm afraid of large crowds and immature teenagers under the influence.

"I don't know, Mads. I doubt my mom would even let me." I close my locker shut and turn to her. "Just tell her we're hanging out. She trusts me." She wiggles her eyebrows which causes me to laugh. "Alright. But no drinking, no smoking and we have to be home before 1. My mom would kill me if I was out any later than that." Madeline squeals and hugs me.

It is crazy to think she's my best friend. She's a social butterfly who loves to make new friends. I, on the other hand, would rather spend my nights in my room. Normal kids my age are out partying every weekend.

"I'll be at your house by 9, the party is supposed to start at 10 but we have to be fashionable. Late. And for the love of god, wear something sexy."

"You know I'm not comfortable in "sexy" clothes. I'm not that type of person." I put quotations around the word sexy.

"Well, at least let me find you a cute outfit. Something modest, but doesn't say 'I'm a Mormon who doesn't even want to kiss a boy.'" She raises her brows at me, pleading.

"I have to approve it," I tell her. She nods excitedly.

The bell rings, cutting off our conversation. "I'll see you tonight." She hurries off to her first period.

I sigh and walk to the library. The first period is my study hall.

I take a seat in the back and grab my books, flipping through the pages until I get to last night's study material.

"Is this seat taken?" A voice spoke. I unplug my earphones and lookup.

Colby Brock. Your typical "bad boy" teenager. Tattoos, piercings, and he's a stoner. He's slightly emo, too, which adds to his whole aesthetic. I'm not even sure if he's of age to have the things he does.

"Uh- no it's not." I move my backpack, offering him the seat.

"I've never seen you around here." He comments.

Of course. Not like I've been in school with you for 5 years.

"We've been in the same school since 6th grade," I tell him, not smiling.

He frowns and scratching his neck. "Oh, well nice to meet you." He puts his hand out and I shake it.

"We've also had a project together in ninth grade." I press my lips together. He's clueless to who I am.

"Oh, yeah I think I remember. Kayla, right?" He asks.

I roll my eyes. "I'm Amara. But, you probably don't recognize me. I got plastic surgery over the summer." I sarcastically comment. His eyes widen before he smiles. "See, now I know that's not true. Nobody with plastic surgery is as beautiful as you." He flirts with me like it's nothing.

I flush slightly but try to seem uninterested. "Well, if you're here to cheat off of my homework, it's not happening." I place my homework back in my bag. Usually, when people talk to me it's to copy my answers.

"No, no. Actually, I was seeing if you'll be at my party tonight. Juniors and Seniors are invited."

"Your party? I thought it was a senior party." My eyebrows furrow. We're in the same grade, so it doesn't make sense.

"I am a senior. I finished all my credits for the junior year last year." I laugh by accident, covering my mouth. "I know hard to believe that someone like me can be smart." He puts down his body.