Living With The Bad Boy

Chapter 4 || Conquest Or Victim?

▲ Chapter 4 || Conquest Or Victim?▲

"Bye Bronte!" Angela waves, "See you at Social Justice Meeting tomorrow, alright?"

"Okay!" I chirp, and as soon as she's out of sight I drop my head against my locker and groan.

It has been the hundredth time today that someone has asked me why my hair is tucked into my beanie - and first period hasn't even started yet. I was utterly exasperated - and I had Blake to thank for that.

After finding out yesterday that my hair has turned green, I charged over to Blake; assuming that he knew what was going on.

And, of course, he did.

After spraying Window Cleaner onto his face yesterday morning, Blake decided it was only fair that he got me back. So, while I was too busy 'cowering away in a room' (Blake's words, not mine), he drove to the shops and bought temporary green hair dye. He then emptied my hair conditioner and filled it with said hair dye.

I am grateful to know that it is only temporary (Meaning I wouldn't have to pay a lot of money to change it back just because of his silly revenge), but also very ungrateful because when I tried to wash it out yesterday it only faded a little, which meant that I'd just have to stick it out until the hair dye eventually washes away.

I glance up and spot Elle walking down the hallway, looking at me with a weird expression. Once arriving, she furrows her eyebrows, "Why is your hair tucked into your beanie?"

I laugh bitterly and, to answer her question, pull my beanie off my head. Green locks tumble out of the beanie and down my back and Elle's eyes widen. Her expression then morphs into an amused one and she fights back a laugh.

"Elle!" I cry, smacking her arm playfully, "You're not supposed to laugh! This is serious!"

"Yeah," she snorts, "A serious fashion crime!" she laughs at her own joke and I shoot her a glare which only gains more laughs from her, "Okay, no. Don't try to glare. You look like a constipated kitten."

"Gee, thanks," I sigh, falling against my locker. I twist my hair back up into a bun on top of my head and pop the beanie back on.

"If it makes you feel any better, that hat is kind of cute," she offers weakly.

"Thanks," I mutter. It was a cute hat, indeed; A purple beanie with small diamantés scattered on the top.

"So what happened?" she questions, "Why does your hair look like you just tried to colour it in with green charcoal but failed dismally?"

"Blake happened," I scowl. Elle's mouth forms an 'o' as she nods her head understandingly.

"Well..." she drawls, "You should get him back."

"Elle," I deadpan, "Are you trying to get me killed? You know what happens whenever anyone tries to defy Blake," I make a slitting-throat motion with my thumb and Elle laughs. "And besides, he's not a happy person and I still want to help him. I don't want to give up on him just yet."

"Still..." Elle hums with a mischievous grin, "If you need help hiding a body or something, the offer's always on the table, alright?"

"Nope," I chuckle, "Not gonna happen," I reply firmly.

Though as much as I hated it, there was a part of me that yearned to get some sort of revenge on Blake.

▲ ▲ ▲

"Ah, Ms. Davis." Mr. Blackmore, my History teacher, greets as I enter the class and take a seat at one of the desks by the window, "I expected better from you. You know the rules. Take off the hat," he arches an eyebrow and I restrict a sigh.