Playing The Bad Boy's Game (Completed July 2012) FIRST BOOK SO IT IS CRAP W A R N I N G

Chapter 2: Bitch, please

“I prefer my fist running into your face,” I said. 

Mr. Gillian’s ears burned red, flustered by the sudden comeback.  “Miss—”

“I’m going, I’m going.  Don’t get your genitalss squeezed.”  I rose and slammed the library door behind me. 

Fast walking, I heightened my speed as I heard the door close again.  “Bae, wait!” he called, a hilt of amusement tickling his voice. 

There was no way on Earth I’d be talking to that dickadork.   

I was a cheetah on fast walk mode, scissor motioned hands and quick feet cutting me around the corner.  My ears perked to his rushing steps and I soon bolted.    

Yet heels could only get you so far.

His speed ate away the distance between us, and my scheming mind clicked once I spotted a door about to close.  Wedging my foot before it did, I slipped inside.  Back pressed against the door, I didn’t realize my breath came in shallow gasps and laughed.  I had escaped him.  I had escaped that horrendous mons—

The door suddenly swung open full force, blasting me forward.  I shrieked and fell down the three stepped staircase with flailing arms, grabbing the first thing that kept me balanced. 

Lifting my head, my eyes popped and heat flushed my cheeks.  I was holding onto a towel one of the boys was gripping tightly around their waist.  Surveying my location, I felt my heart pump faster.  Here I was, struggling to stand with the help of a guy’s towel inside the boy’s locker room:

Where currently they were changing and showering, steam clogging the air and shirtless creatures peeking from their aisles to spot the invader. 

“Whoops,” I squeaked and gave the guy whose towel I was holding an apologetic look.  He barely held onto the cloth against his waist, my grip still tugging on it.  “I’m so so so sorry,” I kept repeating.  Trying to stand, my feet suddenly slipped on a puddle and I shrieked again, trying to use the towel for support but failed as I ripped it off of him. 

 “Wow.” 

Knees on the wet floor, I turned and immediately wanted to dissolve into a molecule.  Brian stood, staring with a swirl of amusement in his eyes, clearly noticing the pantless guy in front of my face.  “You work fast.  I call dibs next.”  My mouth jaw hit the ground.  “Baby, looks like you got the first step down.  I’ll take a BJ to go.  Mr. G will be wondering where we are.” 

White hot anger ripped in my chest and I rose, picking up the towel.  After everything he had done to my family, I used the breathing exercise my therapist told me so I wouldn’t murder him. 

“If you’re not gonna suck his—”

“Shut up!” I snapped, lashing the towel towards his direction.  “You don’t deserve to talk to me after what you’ve done!”

“Miss, you think you could hand me back my towel?” the guy asked.

Brian flipped his hair out of his vision, the soft blonde curls looked tempting to go through but I gripped the cloth.  “I haven’t done anything,” he coolly stated.

Done anything?!    

The natural protective instinct kicked in.  I slapped him across the face.  Hard. 

Flabbergast, he touched his cheek and slowly processing what I had done, burst with rage, “What the hell was that for?” he shouted.  I fought back a smile and crossed my arms holding a serious face.  A nice looking red mark formed at the side of his cheek.