How to save a Bad Boy✔️

16: Ask him if the Rumors are True| M A S O N

"I have an understanding that you're trying to get with Morgan," he spoke with a light accent, even though I hadn't answered his first question.

Geez, man, take a fucking hint.

"Listen, douche ba—"

"No, you listen," He cut me off aggressively and puffed up his chest, "I need you to stay away from her."

He had to be joking.

"And who the fuck are you?" I countered calmly, not bothering to change my stance.

"Dante."

I scoffed and clicked my tongue. "Who the fuck are you to her, you stupid dick, I don't give a damn about your name."

Dante's eyes flashed with anger as he comed his fingers through his hair. "A close friend," he mumbled.

I laughed sarcastically and cocked my head to the side. "Really? Because she's never mentioned you, and I happen to talk to her a lot."

Okay, I admit, I was pushing his buttons. The dickhead deserved it after coming into the restroom to try and tell me what to do.

His nostrils flared and my lips curled up into a smirk.

Again, did this girl have flavored nipples or something?

"You're after a girl that doesn't know you exist," I nodded my head and shook my head sympathetically, "while you're thinking of her, she's busy with me."

Dante snarled and pushed me back violently. "Shut the fuck up, Mason."

I arched my eyebrows at him and chuckled. "Are you really trying to push a guy who has a reputation for breaking noses?"

As if in cue, a few bulky guys slithered out of the bathroom stalls.

Oh, great, the whole fucking soccer team was here.

"I think you're a bit too cocky, cabrón," Dante growled.

I rolled my eyes at his insult. Living a few years in a Mexican household had really paid off.

"How long have those pussies been in there?" I laughed.

How long had they been waiting? What if I hadn't decided to come to the restroom?

One of the guys stepped forward, but I had yet to move from my initial position. I was still leaning against the sink, staring at him through the mirror.

He cracked his knuckles and the rest followed suit.

"Come on, guys, I don't think this is a fair fight," I chuckled.

There was no way I could beat four guys, but I could have fun trying.

"¿Qué hacemos con el gringo, Dante?" Another guy spoke.

"For starters, you could watch me beat your pussy of a friend," I smiled at him and finally stood up straight, "or you could join the fun."

All or them looked at me as if I had grown two heads.

"What?" I questioned, "Just because I'm white doesn't mean I can't understand Spanish."

They didn't answer.

"Are we going to fight or not? I'm starting to get bored," I said as I heard the bell ring.

"Crush him," Dante hissed and I wasted no time to smash my fist into the mirror.

I grabbed the biggest shard and faced them. "Let's go then."

"Whoa!" The first guy exclaimed as he jumped back, "are you fucking crazy?"

I lifted my arms in question as I watched everyone- even Dante- take a few steps back.

"What? Was I supposed to just let four guys beat me up?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in question.

"Are you okay, man? Is everything cool at home?" Dante started, raising his hands up in surrender.

"What the fuck is this? 20 questions?" I hissed, letting the shard smash into the ground in frustration.

"That shouldn't be the first thing you think of doing when someone wants to fight you," one of the guys shook his head in worry, "if you need help—"

I waved my hand at them- which was now starting to bleed, "Forget it," I mumbled and shoved through them, "come back when you actually want to fight."

I walked out of the restroom and wrapped my injured hand with my sweater. Everyone had already cleared the hall.

I really needed to go home.

"Hey, there you are," Morgan exclaimed from a distance and jogged towards me, "you forgot your phone."

My heart started to beat quicker as she took my hand. "Hey, are you okay?"

Get yourself together, dipshit.

"Y-yeah—" I cursed internally when I heard myself stutter— "I just had a very strange encounter with your friend."

"What friend?" Morgan asked, a small frown had started to form on her face.

"Dante," I laughed awkwardly.

Shit, where was that confident Mason? Where the fuck was the guy who was ready to shank some guy in the restroom?

She sighed. "He can be a little weird. Are you sure you're alright? You look flushed, I can take you to the nur—"

"No!" I exclaimed, "I just need to go home."

Why was she being so damn nice?

Morgan inched closer and took another look at my hand. "What happened? It looks pretty ba—"

"I said I'm fucking fine, Morgan," I hissed at her.

Her face instantly changed and she pulled back. "Fine, bitch, help yourself."

Then Morgan turned on the balls of her feet and walked away.

I was so fucking dead.

Author's Note

Cuteeeee.

Anywayssss! LEAVE ME A FUCKING COMMENT BECAUSE I AM VERY, VERY LONELY.