Living With The Bad Boy

Chapter 6 || Time To Start Planning My Funeral

▲ Chapter 6 || Time To Start Planning My Funeral▲

20 minutes post leaving Worthington High, I arrive at Blake's house; soaked in water and shivering from the coolness.

Sniffling because of my runny nose, I walk into the open kitchen/lounge room, dropping my school bag on the counter.

The anger I once passionately felt towards Blake was now replaced with both confusion and curiosity. What past experience made him so cruel and so bitter with the world? People don't just become mean without a reason, or at least I don't think they do.

His pranks were nothing traumatising and I knew that. I wasn't upset about the pranks, though. I could handle them. I was upset about the fact that he'd want to do them to me and that he's always so cruel to me.

I mean, I haven't done anything bad to him besides almost blinding him. 

Maybe he was distancing himself from me and trying to make me sad because he didn't want me trying to get to know him and who he is? - Or maybe I'm just making excuses.

Both options are possible, but the main question is whether or not I'm willing to endure his cruelness to find out.

"You know you've been having an internal monologue for a solid minute now and it's starting to creep me out."
A husky voice breaks my train of my thought and I look up to see Blake sitting on the lounge room couch with a cocky smirk on his face.

I would have chided him and his attitude and what he did to me if I wasn't looking at Blake in a new light now. I no longer see him as the mean, tough Blake Parker who dominates Worthington High, and instead see him as the mysterious, troubled Blake Parker. I may be wrong about him, I may be right, but one thing for sure was that I was going to find out.

Shaking my head out of my thoughts, I recollect myself and smile at him, "Hey, Blake."

Blake's victorious expression drops and he looks back at me with an annoyed and irritated expression. An annoyed groans escapes his mouth and he shoots up from his seat, storming out of the room.

I, being the curious girl I am, trail behind him, "Blake, what's wrong?" He ignores me and walks towards his room. I follow suit, "What did I do? Why are you being so-"

"Would you shut the hell up!" His voice booms throughout the house and I freeze in my spot, staring up at him with wide eyes. His chest heaves up and down as he glares at me with pure hatred, "Have you not gotten the hint?" he snaps, "I. Hate. You. Why can't you just get it in that thick head of yours that I don't want anything to do with you?"

When I don't respond, he laughs a bitter laugh and steps towards me. I let out an uneasy breath at the close proximity between us. "I want you to leave this house. I don't give a flying fuck how you do it, but I don't want to see you here again."

My jaw falls ajar at his command and the anger in his voice. I knew he hated me, but this? This was far more than I ever anticipated.

I couldn't leave. I had nowhere else to stay! I mean, I could stay with Elle, but that would lead to Marisa and Jay finding out why I'm leaving, which would lead Blake hating me even more when they tell him off, which would lead to my life being ruined.

"And if you don't..." he mutters, his face now inches from mine, "Well, you know how easily I can make your life a living hell, right?" he comments, raising his eyebrows expectantly. I nod my head vigorously in response. "Good." He smirks. Blake then pats me on the head in a patronising and condescending way and winks, his whole demeanour completely changing as he walks away from me with a slight bounce in his step.

"We're home!" I hear someone call as the front door swings open and Marisa enters. She notices my pale face and furrows her eyebrows, "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I reply, forcing a broad smile onto my face, "Everything's great!"

I think it's time to start planning my funeral.

Marisa stares at me hesitantly for a long moment before a smile stretches back onto her face, "Hey, I bought some Thai for dinner. Come help me dish it out."

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"He did that?" Elle gasps from the other end of the phone line.

"Yep," I answer sadly.

"Oh sweetie..." she sighs, "See, this is what happens when you try to be friends with the school's bad boy. He's not a nice guy. You honestly didn't think it would be easy?"

"I knew it wouldn't be easy," I reply, "But I didn't think it would be impossible," I switch ears with the phone, "You know, all I wanted to do was give him a friend," I frown, "I thought he might want a friend and someone he can talk to, you know? Then he won't feel so lonely."

"You don't need to help everyone, Bronte," Elle states in a quiet voice.

"But I just feel so guil-"

"It wasn't your fault," Elle interrupts me in a firm voice.

"It was, though. I could've-"

"You are not responsible for everyone. You aren't some sort of God that needs to take care of everyone. You're only human, Bront. Stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over."

But I did. I could've saved her.

I purse my lips and exhale a shaky breath. I wasn't in the mood to discuss this matter, so I just agree with her. "Yeah, okay."

Sensing my reluctance on speaking about the topic, Elle changes the subject, "Hey, have you talked to your parents?"

"Yeah!" I pipe up, "Apparently everything is going well for them, which is great. They've been calling me every day."

"That's great," Elle responds enthusiastically.

"But enough about me. How's everything going with you?"

"It's alright, I guess," Elle answers, "Mum's met a new man, which is exciting."

I gasp in excitement, "Really? Does he meet your standards this time?"

"Yep," Elle laughs, "They've been going out pretty often. But the only part of him that doesn't meet my standards is his daughter, Tina."

"Tina? Yikes," I respond. Tina's possibly the meanest person at our school, and that's saying something since Blake also attends our school. I don't like judging people much, but I've encountered Tina quite a few times, and she's been very unpleasant to me each time. She spread a rumour about me once when I first attended the school. Apparently I was recently released from the psychiatric hospital which was why I was so cheerful. Not many people believed it though.

"Listen, I've got to go now, but Bronte - you need to toughen up and grow a backbone, okay? Being nice doesn't mean you stop standing up for yourself. Don't just let him push you around. He tells you to move out of the house? Tell him to fuck off!"

"Yeah..." I reply wistfully. I knew she was right. I couldn't let Blake push me around. All excuses put aside, he has no right to treat me this way. "You're right," I agree, "Um. Why do you have to leave? Is everything okay?"

"Dinner," she tells me.

"Okay."

"I won't hide things from you, Bronte, if that's what you're worried about. I won't put you through that again. I'm not like her," she assures me, and I can't help but feel grateful for having such an understanding friend.

"Thank you."

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