Of Course He's Bad (HOLD)

v. coconut rum

"Alright," I sighed, pulling my hair into a high blonde ponytail towards the top of my head. "We'll meet after school, parking lot by the library, for the rest of the week." Colton and I needed to get all three of our original recipes and developments of the physical cakes by Friday, which meant we had four days total to do this whole project.

He ran his fingers through his long, floppy bangs, "Okay, I get it." I hoped he wasn't huffing at me; I'd probably be doing all the work this time.

I finished tying the plain white apron around my waist, "And I told my brother that he could use my car this whole week to drive home, so don't forget me!" Rolling the sleeves of my striped henley shirt up, I bent down to grab a few materials for the first baking of the desserts. "What flavors are we making?" I shouted over my shoulder to Colton. Before he could get a chance to reply, I felt a hand slap my butt.

A boy's pubescent voice snickered, "We got two cakes right here." His filthy touch lingered on my rear as I could hear a few chuckles behind him, probably his douchey friends.

I sharply got up and spun to face them, standing straight and tall. I looked each of them in the eye, all three, with daring glances and a raised eyebrow. "Which one of you assholes thinks it's okay to put your hands on a lady?" I asked with an icy tone, causing the boys to nervously look between each other. They were no bad boys or jocks, and I could tell they weren't expecting my reaction to be as it was.

"Uh," one boy in a red shirt stuttered. He pointed at the one in the middle, leave it to the kid with the messy Mohawk.

I put a hand on my hip saucily, "You?" He looked at the ground and cleared his throat, as if this were awkward. "Oh, you're nervous are you?" I asked, somewhat shocked. No reply came from the boys, but I could see they looked like they were about to piss their pants. I raised my voice higher and colder, "I asked you a question. Are. You. Nervous?"

"Yes," they stuttered in unison, eyes scanning around the classroom. I followed the direction of their eyes to see everyone's eyes on me, even our teacher's. She was standing, watching with pride in her eyes.

"What makes you think it's okay to grope a woman like that, just out of the blue?" I can feel my insides heating up. I've been b*tch slapped, in a fight, hit in the face with multiple [sports] balls, but never have I been violated sexually. My face felt warm, and I was just about ready to rip these idiots' heads off.

"Woah there, princess, calm down," came Tyler, intervening between the four of us. I didn't notice how close I'd approached the boys until Tyler stepped between us. He looked at me and said, "I can handle it. These boys need to learn not to touch a lady. You, just don't get your hands dirty. Finish up your project." His voice kind of trailed off as I noticed he set his denim jacket off, letting his plain black tee flex his muscles. Tyler gently set his all matte black sunglasses down on the counter next to Colton and mine's. I didn't want them to really get hurt; I just wanted them to be scared and threatened to the point of where they wouldn't do it again. From what I heard about Tyler, he would not restrain himself from beating these guys into a coma. They might've been taller and larger than me, but when I berated them, I could tell they were afraid. That's all I wanted.

"Tyler," I attempted to grasp his arm back, but he shrugged it off roughly.

"They need to be taught a lesson about women," he said, voice as cold as stone. His jaw was set rigidly, and his muscles were bulging as he crossed his arms and sized up the boys. He lightly scoffed, which meant he saw them as no threat. The boy in the middle got it first, and worst. Tyler picked him up by the collar of his turquoise RVCA t-shirt and glared him dead set in the eye. I didn't want to get hurt myself, so I backed away to the side. "Enlighten me why you thought you could touch her like that," commanded Tyler.