Bad Enough For You

Chapter 1

Skylar's pov

"Look at that nerd," my friend says,

laughing and pointing at a boy.

"Leah, be nice," I tell her.

"Don't defend him, Skylar," Amy

scolds.

"Don't be assholes. You two don't even

know him," I reply, watching the boy

walk down the hallway, while people

made fun of him.

"And you do?" Leah asks, reapplying

her lipstick. I roll my eyes at her.

One of the the football

players pushes the boy's book out of his

hands. Everyone bursts into laughter,

as he scrambles to pick them up. The

bell rings, and everyone starts walking

to class. A few people kick the boy's

books, spreading them even further

apart.

"Let me help you," I say, dropping

down to my knees, and helping him

pick up the books.

"Umm, thank you," he mumbles.

"I'm Skylar," I tell him, handing over

the last notebook.

"Riker," he says, looking up. He

immediately blushes a deep red color.

"Let's get to class," I say, standing up,

and offering him my hand. Riker

blushes again, and takes my hand. We

walk to first period in silence.

"Ms. Jones. You're late," Mr. Tate says,

as Riker and I walk into the classroom.

"She was helping me pick up my

books," Riker cuts in. Mr. Tate looks at

me for a minute, then turns his back,

dismissing the entire topic.

"You walked

into a classroom with a nerd!" Amy

exclaims, as we walk through the lunch

line.

"So what?" I ask, grabbing a plate of

pizza. Leah glares at the pizza like it

was stealing her makeup bag.

"He's a nerd! You're popular! You two

don't mix!" Amy scoffs. I roll my eyes,

and type in my punch code. Then I grab

my tray, and look around the lunch

room. I spot Riker in a corner by

himself. Some of the football players

threw trash at him. So I walk over to

Riker's table.

"Is this seat taken?" I ask, standing

beside Riker. He looks up, and his eyes

almost pop out of his head. "Yes. I

mean no. I mean, by you. I mean, you

can sit there," he struggles to finish his

sentence. I giggle, and sit down next to

him.

"What homework do you want me to

do?" Riker asks me, after a few minutes

of silence.

"None," I reply, confused.

"Really? Everyone who talks to me, just

wants me to do their homework," he

mumbles.

"Riker, I promise I'm not using you to

do my homework," I say, resting a hand

on his shoulder. Riker stares at my

hand like it's a million dollars. We

finish our lunch, then head to sixth

period.

"Ms. Jones, Mr. Lynch, may I have a

word?" Our history teacher, Mrs. Heith

asks us, as we walk into the classroom.

"Sure," I say, and Riker nods.

"Ms. Jones, you're failing my class. If

you want to graduate in two months,

then you need a tutor. I was hoping Mr.

Lynch would tutor you," she says.

"I'm fine with it," Riker says. I nod.

"Great! Now go take your seats. Class

is about to begin," she commands,

shooing us away from her desk. We sit

down, and Mrs. Heith starts to teach.