y/n: your name
l/n: your last name
c/n: crush's name
c/l/n: crush's last name
h/c: your hair color
e/c: your eye color
s/c: your skin color
c/h/c: crush's hair color
c/e/c: crush's eye color
c/s/c: crush's skin color
b/f/n: best friend's name
b/f/l/n: best friend's last name
In this imagine, you and c/n are already friends!
You stand in front of the mirror, eyeing the dark purple bruise circling your left wrist. Your mind flashes back to yesterday, when Grovewood High's most popular girl, Kayla Ryan (if your name is Kayla, just sub in another name, I apologize), had grabbed you and shoved you against your locker when no one was watching. Your shoulder still aches from where it had slammed against the metal.
You never thought you would be bullied, but here you are, covered in bruises from your bully's kicks and shoves and sharp words.
Suddenly, your phone rings. It's c/n.
"Hey," you answer, trying to keep your voice chipper.
"Hey! Are you almost ready?" he asks.
You smooth down the fabric of your short blue dress. It's casual, with a smooth hemline and a scoop neck.
"Yeah," you say. You and c/n are about to go to one of c/n's friend's house for a party. Nerves flutter in your stomach, as there is a chance that Kayla Ryan and her posse might be there as well.
"Are you okay?" he says. You can hear the sound of his car in the background, a low hum. "You sound kind of...off."
"Just a little tired," you lie. "I'll see you soon," you say, then hang up. Before you grab your purse and head towards the driveway, you slip on a couple bracelets to cover up your bruise.
C/n is sitting in the driver's seat, one arm gripping the wheel. He grins when he sees you. "You look nice, l/n," he says. He gets out, heads to the passenger side, and opens your door for you. You smile, grateful, and slip in. The car is nice and toasty compared to the bitter chill permeating the air outside.
C/n hums softly as he pulls out of your driveway. Usually, you two would talk about anything and everything on your drives together, but this time, you stay silent.
C/n tries to get you to talk. "What did you do today?" he asks.
"Um-just...nothing, really," you say.
"You didn't eat? Didn't breathe?"
"Very funny, c/n." You fake a laugh. Then, slowly, you ask, "Do you know if, uh, Kayla Ryan and her friends are going to be there?"
"Kayla? I'm not sure. Why?" he asks.
"No reason."
"Speaking of Kayla, she asked me to see a movie with her," c/n says, and your heart breaks.
"With her? Are you going to go?" Your heart has started to pound, and you feel a little lightheaded.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I? She's nice."
Nice enough to give me a couple bruises as presents, you think bitterly to yourself. And now even c/n is switching to her side.
The entire school adores Kayla. She's the princess of Grovewood High, the most popular girl to go there. Everyone except you.
"We're here," c/n says in a singsong voice as he parks his car along the street in front of a grand house. It has two balconies, for God's sake.
As soon as you step into the house, you have a pounding headache. The music is loud and reverberates through your ribcage. The smell of alcohol is everywhere, clinging to people's hair, to their clothes. You want to leave almost immediately, and when you spot Kayla, standing with a group of her friends by the speakers, you almost do.
But c/n's arm on your wrist stops you. You wince, as he's squeezing your bruised wrist.
"What is it?" He gives you a questioning look.
"Nothing," you say, gently tugging your wrist from his grasp.
He grabs it again and drags you towards the kitchen. "Want something to drink?"
"Maybe a Coke." He hands you a sweating can of Coca Cola, then grabs another for himself. The two of you head back out into the main space, which could probably fit both of your and c/n's houses inside.
A bubbly, high-pitched voice has your insides turning to ice. "Hey, c/n," Kayla Ryan croons, twirling a strand of chestnut hair around her finger. "I'm glad to see you here."
"You, too," c/n says, smiling at her. That singular act-him smiling at your enemy-makes you want to tear your hair out, then cry for two hours. But you just swallow your pain and offer Kayla a weak smile.
She doesn't even glance your way. Her eyes are fixed on c/n, and c/n alone. "Are we still on for that movie?" she asks.
He nods. "Sure. Is tomorrow good?"
"Yup. I want to see Ice Queen 2," Kayla says, in a whiny voice that makes you want to strangle her.
Damn it. You wanted to see Ice Queen 2, and with c/n, at that. Now he was seeing it with the girl that had no qualms against grabbing you by your h/c hair and slamming you into a wall.
A new song comes on. It's loud, and obnoxious, but apparently popular because suddenly everyone is screaming the lyrics.
"Oh my God, I love this song!" Kayla shrieks. She grabs c/n's hand and drags him away from you. You watch them leave, a deep sadness nesting inside of you.
Maybe you should just leave. You're not exactly sure where your house is from c/n's friend's, but you're sure you'll be able to figure it out. And it isn't too dark yet. But you don't want to leave c/n, even if he's dancing with another girl right now.
You pass the time by sipping your Coke and staring at people, in a completely non-creepy way. You finish the Coke and throw it away, then check the time on your phone. 8:32.
You see c/n's friend walking by you. "Hey!" you call. "Do you have a restroom?"
"No. We usually just pee in the woods behind the house," he says, a serious expression on his face. Then he laughs. "Yeah, of course we do. Upstairs, first room on the left."
"Thank you." You head up the stairs, then into the restroom to do your business. After washing your hands, you step outside, and are about to head back down to the main room when someone shoves you back against the wall.
It's Kayla. She has a smirk on her face, her perfectly-manicured brows high. "Hey dork," she says, keeping you pinned against the wall with a hand. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"
"I was invited," you say, trying to get away from her. She slams you back into the wall.
"You were invited? That must be some sort of mistake." She bites her lip and pretends to think. "Oh! I know. Maybe you were actually invited to be the help. You should go hand out drinks or something."
"Leave me alone, Kayla," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. But really, you're afraid. Afraid of what she might do to you, and afraid of what lies she might tell c/n about you.
"You're such a dork, y/n. I don't know why c/n even hangs around with you." Suddenly, Kayla smacks you in the nose. She laughs as you groan in pain.
Blood begins to stream down your face. You wipe at it with your sleeve, eyes widening when the fabric comes back stained crimson.
"You should leave," Kayla tells you. Finally, she steps away from you, letting her hand fall from your chest. "C/n would be better off without you around."
She's bounding down the stairs in no time, her glossy hair bouncing against her back with every step.
You slowly make your way down the stairs, mopping up the blood with your sleeve. People give you strange looks as you pass them, but there's only one person you care about seeing right now.
You finally spot him standing in the corner with Kayla and a group of other people. "C/n!" you call. He turns to spot you, then immediately frowns. Kayla gives you a sharp look, one you can decipher as, If you tell him anything, I will ruin your life. You gulp as c/n approaches.
"What happened, y/n? You're bleeding." His c/e/c eyes drop to your nose. "Are you okay?"
You nod. "I tripped. Can we leave?"
"Uh-" He glances back towards Kayla and his friends. "We've only been here an hour or so," he says.
You cannot believe him. Here you are, bleeding, and he refuses to leave the party. Probably because of Kayla.
"Fine." You hoist your purse higher up your arm then turn to go. "I can walk."
"Do you know the way?" he calls after you.
"I can figure it out," you throw back over your shoulder.
You step outside, pulling your oversized jean jacket tighter around your shoulders. The wind hits you like a brick to the face-or maybe a fist to the face would be more fitting-and you shudder. It is almost pitch-black outside, the only light coming from the flickering streetlights placed sporadically along the street.
You begin to walk, pulling Google Maps up on your phone. You spend the entire walk looking over your shoulder, fear curdling in your stomach, but finally, you find yourself on a familiar street. Your house isn't too far, and you make it there within five minutes.
"I hate you, c/n," you mutter to yourself as you let yourself into the house. The blood on your face has dried, leaving behind a scarlet crust.
"Is that you, y/n? You're home early!" your mother shouts from the kitchen.
"Yeah, it's me!" you shout back.
"Are you okay?" she asks.
"Yes." You make your way up the stairs and into your room, where you head to your bathroom to gently wipe the dried blood from your face. There is a slight bruise on the bridge of your nose already.
By the time you're finished, you're exhausted. You change into your pajamas, wipe off your makeup, brush your teeth, then climb into bed. All night, you dream about Kayla, and the sneer on her face before she smacked you in the face.
✿
When you wake up, your nose is throbbing. One look in the mirror has you sighing; it's swollen, and purple. Explaining this to your mom would be a pain.
Suddenly, it hits you that it's Saturday, the day c/n is supposed to see Ice Queen 2 with Kayla. This only makes you even more depressed, so you decide to spend the day lying in bed with a tub of ice cream and your favorite comfort television show.
C/n calls around noon. "Hey," he says.
"Hey," you mutter back, eyes glued to your laptop screen.
"How's that nose?"
"It's not like you care," you shoot at him.
He sighs over the line. "I'm sorry I didn't pack up everything I was doing to take you home, y/n," he shoots back. "I have a life too, you know? I can't just drive you around everywhere, whenever you want."
"I was bleeding!" you shout at him. Unbidden, tears rise, hot and wet, to your eyes. How could someone be this oblivious?
"A bloody nose isn't a medical emergency!" he shouts back. "God, you can be so controlling sometimes, y/n. I'm going to go. I need to pick up Kayla in half an hour."
"Fine," you spit. "Go. And delete my number, because I'm deleting yours." You hang up and do as you said: you delete his number.
You would be better off without c/n. You didn't need him. He was immature, and ignorant, and-and he had the best smile, he was funny, and warm, and he was always there for you when you needed him, like when you failed that Algebra test and cried for a week straight. Yes, sometimes he could be a little stupid, but he's still your c/n. Or, he was-until Kayla took him from you.
You cry for a little while, then order some food. You spend the rest of your day in bed, watching television shows and movies, and finally fall asleep around nine. You spend Sunday the same way.
✿
Monday morning, you begrudgingly get ready for school. You have an English test, so you can't skip. You don't even eat breakfast, just change, brush your teeth, and slip out the door.
Usually, c/n picks you up for school in the morning, and you blast music and eat Pop Tarts all the way there. But today, you don't even wait to see if he'll show up; you just begin the long, two mile walk to Grovewood High.
You make it there just before the late bell rings. Your English test goes poorly, and you don't bother to eat lunch, either. You just huddle in a bathroom stall until the bell rings. When the bell does ring, you pass the lunchroom on the way to Physics, and one glance inside shows that c/n is sitting at Kayla's table.
Finally, the school day is over. You grab your backpack from your locker and start to head home. About ten minutes into your walk home, you realize that you forgot your Physics textbook in your locker, which you need for your homework. You sigh, then start to walk back.
The school is deserted. You open your locker, grab your textbook, and are about to head back out when someone clears their throat behind you.
"Where do you think you're going, dork?" Kayla asks, that signature smirk on her face.
Dread makes your whole body go cold. You actually drop your textbook, that's how afraid you are. "Home," you say, hoping she'll leave you alone.
No such luck. Within seconds, you're pressed against your locker, Kayla's face hovering mere inches above your own.
"You'll be home a little late," she says. And that's when everything goes to hell.
She pulls you back and slams you against your locker so hard stars explode in front of your eyes. You're dazed and unable to fight back. Her fist meets your face repeatedly, and soon, you're on the ground, curled into a ball to protect your ribs. Her boot connects with your arm, your side, and even finds its way into your ribs, again and again and again. You start to lose consciousness. But finally, the attack ceases. You still have enough wits about you to glance up, and what you see is Kayla, sneering down at you, her lip curled.
"Never look me in the eyes again, you little rat," she spits. Then she's off, her heeled boots clicking against the linoleum as she leaves you crumpled on the ground.
You can't move. Your whole body feels like it's on fire, like there's flames erupting from your flesh. You can do nothing but lie there, and hope some teacher finds you.
Soon, someone does find you, but it's not a teacher. It's c/n. You had forgotten that he stayed after school on Mondays for Soccer club. He's sweaty and disheveled from practice, but when he sees you, he comes racing over.
"Y/n, what the hell happened?" he demands. He looks livid. He crouches down next to you and gently brushes your hair from your face. "Who did this? Tell me who did this, y/n."
"You wouldn't believe me," you manage to get out. C/n helps you sit up. He leans you back against your locker, and you wince, holding your ribs.
"Why wouldn't I believe you?" he asks, looking confused.
"Just leave me alone, c/n. I thought I was controlling."
Regret appears on his face. His perfect face, you can't help but think.
"I regretted saying that more than anything. You're not controlling, y/n, and I'll drive you anywhere you want to go. But you have to tell me which asshole did this to you."
You decide to tell him. What worse could Kayla do to you, anyway? Kill you? Then she'd go to jail, and hopefully be murdered there.
"It was Kayla," you say.
"Kayla Ryan?" c/n asks, looking even more confused.
"Yes. Your girlfriend, Kayla Ryan," you say bitterly.
"She's not my-wait. You're saying Kayla beat you up? Why?"
"Because she hates me, c/n. She's the reason I had a bloody nose at the party. She's the one who did this." You pull up your sleeve and show him your bruised wrist. "She's been bullying me since the beginning of the school year."
"She..." c/n looks dumbfounded.
"Do you believe me?" you ask quietly, afraid of his answer.
He looks at you, shocked. "Of course I believe you, y/n. I trust you more than anyone." His hands, warm and solid, come up to frame your face. "I'm going to kill her for this. I swear it. I can't believe I saw a movie with her yesterday. I bought her popcorn, for God's sake!"
You shrug, still annoyed with him for the movie. You're about to say something when Kayla's voice rings down the hall.
"There you are, c/n! I knew you had soccer club today." She heads down the hall, then freezes when she finally sees you. "Oh. What happened, y/n? Are you okay?"
C/n gets to his feet. His face is flushed. "She told me it was you, Kayla," he says slowly.
"She's such a goddamn liar!" Kayla shouts. "She-"
"Don't call her a liar. In fact, don't even refer to her anymore. I don't want her name coming out of your lying mouth," c/n hisses. His fists are clenched.
"C/n, you have to believe me-" Kayla sputters.
"I don't have to do anything. And girl or not, Kayla, if you come within five feet of y/n again I will personally beat your ass. If you touch her again, you're dead. Do you understand?"
"C/n-"
"I said, do you understand?"
"Y-yes."
"Good. Now go," c/n commands.
Kayla, a terrified look on her face, turns and scampers down the hall and out of the school. The echo of her heeled boots stays even after she's gone.
"Thank you," you tell c/n.
He crouches down next to you again. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" he asks.
You shake your head. "I'm fine. Just take me home, maybe?"
He smiles and carefully scoops you into his arms. You rest your head against his chest as he carries you out of the school and to his car. He loads you into the passenger seat, then gets into the driver's seat and pulls out of the parking lot.
Back at your house, he carries you up to your room and places you on your bed. He adjusts the blankets so that they're tucked tightly against your body, then brings you a glass of water and some Tylenol.
"Need anything else?" he asks. His hand comes to rest against your bruising cheekbone. "I should have killed her anyway," he murmurs, more to himself than to you.
"I'm okay, really," you reassure him. "I just...you should have taken me to see Ice Queen 2," you blurt out.
He laughs. "That's what you're mad at me about? It was a stupid movie, anyway."
"No it's not. It's about a tortured soul that learns about the power of friendship. And love," you add, glancing up at him.
"Love," he echoes. Then, without warning, his lips are on yours. They're warm, and comforting, and you melt into the kiss like a snowflake beneath a boot. When he pulls away, you're both breathing hard.
"I have so much to apologize for," he says. "Please forgive me, y/n. Forgive me and be my girlfriend."
You can't stay mad at him any longer. You nod. "Of course, c/n. On one condition."
"Anything," he promises.
"You buy me Ice Queen 2 on Amazon Prime Video and watch it again with me," you say. You laugh as he sighs exaggeratedly and rolls his eyes.
"Fine. Anything for you." Then he goes downstairs, comes back with a tub of your favorite ice cream, and climbs under the covers with you. You two spend the rest of the day together, eating ice cream and watching Ice Queen 2. Which is amazing, by the way.
I hope you guys enjoyed! If you did, please leave a vote and share this story with your friends! It would also mean a lot if you checked out the other stories I'm working on! Thank you :)