This is a three-chapter sample of the published version of 'A Bad Boy Stole My Bra.' The complete book is available worldwide on Amazon (the e-book version is very cheap) alongside adaptations in French, German, Italian, Indonesian and Turkish. There is also an adaptation on Episode: 'It Started With a Bra' and the SPIN-OFF SEQUEL featuring all of the same characters is available on Wattpad: 'The Anti-Delinquent System.'
T h r e e : Sweet Metallica Lullabies
"What's up with your fine ass this morning?"
I turn to face Violet with an acknowledging grunt, slamming my head into my locker with more force than intended. I whimper as I feel the ache emerge in my temple and my fingers automatically rise up to massage the pain. Have you ever loathed something so much that the mere thought of it wipes the smile off your face and instantly makes you a hundred times more irritable?
Ah, then you understand my mutual relationship with Mondays – specifically Monday mornings.
"You look like crap, you know," Violet says bluntly, leaning against the lockers beside mine and casually crossing her arms. Her hair is newly dyed and her dark skin is flawless, unlike my scruffy bun and the dark bags under my eyes. I scowl in response.
"It's not my fault that Alec freaking Ryder doesn't know what time is acceptable to play music," I grumble under my breath. My hands dart into my locker to retrieve my books, and I shut it with a satisfying slam. Amid the ambient noise of chatter, the buzz of cell phones and the screams of stressed students, my display of frustration goes completely amiss. I'm actually looking forward to the peace and structure of lessons today.
"Seriously though, did you get dressed in the dark or something?"
I peer down at my pale blue skinny jeans and Yellow Submarine T-shirt. My usual home attire. I don't have anything against this outfit – it's comfy, casual and cal. Violet, however, has a signature style and a differing opinion on my classic clothing choices.
"Not now, Violet. I'm not in the mood," I murmur, rubbing the skin under my eyes in an attempt to wake myself up. Sure enough, I know I look like crap. I didn't even bother dragging a brush through my hair this morning, and my Converse are beginning to get tatty from overuse. I blame my dishevelled appearance on Alec. He was the one playing Metallica until God knows what time last night. I blame everything on Alec really.
Suddenly the atmospheric chatter of students seems to hush. I twist around with a knowing groan. Speak of the devil. Alec saunters along the corridor with Joe and Dylan, a folder clutched loosely in his right hand and a leather jacket slung over his toned arm. I can practically hear the drool collecting in girls' mouths already, and my teeth clench. He looks so smug, so confident – and it's his first day. I don't know how someone can seem so carefree.
"I heard he was expelled from his last school."
"Lisa told me that he's got a history of violence. Just look at him – he's so intimidating."
"Intimidatingly hot!"
I roll my eyes at the gossip I can overhear, somewhat relieved when Alec turns the corner and disappears from sight. It was almost too easy to predict what kind of reaction he would receive at school. A hot new boy, confident and witty and best friends with three of the most popular students? He'll be swamped with attention, despite his rumour record. He's got his fast pass to the top.
"So, did you happen to know that there's an incredibly attractive new guy at school?" I hear Violet say over my shoulder. I turn around to face her. "Rumours are saying that he's your next door neighbour," she continues. "Of course, I told them where to stick it, because I know that if that were the case, my best friend would have at least mentioned that a complete hottie has moved in right next door. Am I right in making that assumption?"
I can hear the teasing in her voice.
I cringe as we begin the slow walk towards Math, popping some gum into my mouth to cover the fact that I forgot to brush my teeth this morning in my dazed, sleepy state. I probably should have told my best friend, but honestly the idea never occurred to me. The events of this weekend were short and intense. Violet, taking my silence as an answer, chatters on beside me.
"Of course I'm wrong, but you know, I don't even care. I can't believe you live next to Alec Ryder and you didn't tell me. Dammit, you're lucky. You probably don't even realise how lucky you are, you know that? You might even –"
"Stop right there!" I pull her to a stop. "I don't care that this new guy is living next door to me, I really don't."
She raises an eyebrow. "You should care. This guy is new to town, apparently very confident and definitely very attractive. This is a good thing, surely?"
"No, it's not a good thing."
My best friend looks at me for a long moment and laughs. "Just because you're allergic to boys."
"I'm not allergic to boys!"
"You know, Riley, I honestly think it would be healthy for you to start dating again," Violet's tone becomes serious. "I know you've been repulsed by the idea of crushes and relationships since the Toby Incident, and I get that, but you shouldn't have to punish yourself for what happened with Kaitlin –"
Immediately my heart rate increases, and I find myself shaking my head viciously to try and eject the words from my brain. I don't want to talk about this. I hate it when she brings it up, and I don't know why she still pushes me.
"It's not that easy," I cut in sharply. "Besides, that isn't why Alec moving next door is a bad thing...I'm not repulsed by him in that sense."
Just every other sense instead.
"Then what is it?"
"Well basically, I was woken up on Saturday night because –"
"Riley!"
My eyes jolt towards the source of the voice. Dylan Merrick stands further up the corridor of blue lockers, flanked by Joe, both of their gazes fixed on my disgruntled form. At the sound of his husky voice, people immediately zone onto me and before I know it, I've gone from my safe spot below the radar to hot topic for gossip in a matter of seconds. I cringe as the two head towards me, shrinking back into the lockers and hoping that there is some other Riley standing conveniently behind me.
"Hey there." Dylan greets me with a small smile as he nears us, leaning on the locker beside me. "How are you?"
Is he completely oblivious to the curious stares we're getting? Maybe he's just grown used to it by now, what with him being popular and all. Suddenly self-conscious under multiple gazes, I flush and tuck my hair behind my ear.
"I've been better." My voice comes out surprisingly strangled and croaky as Joe steps into my only escape route. Help required, sharpish. I hate being a focus of attention.
"So has Ryder given it back yet?" Joe asks me, shooting a sideways glance to an incredulous Violet. Her face is puckered in confusion, and it would take a blind man not to see the barrage of questions ready to tumble out of her. Yay.
"Nope," I grumble. "Yesterday, when I was at his house, I tried to find it for a solid fifteen minutes while he watched me, before admitting defeat. Infuriating grasshole."
"You know I could help you get him back . . ." A spark of excitement flares in Joe's eyes as he says the dreaded words.
"Er...no thanks." I chuckle uneasily. "Helping isn't really your forte. Your forte would be fire, danger and exclusion." I glance uneasily to my side. Thankfully, not many people are looking over anymore.
"I'm just a dial tone away if you change your mind." Joe gives me a wink.
Beside me, Violet straightens up from slumping against the lockers. "I feel like my best friend hasn't told me something. Something pretty big," she says. "Can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on, because you two didn't even know Riley existed until now and all of a sudden you're flirting? What happened on Saturday night?"
She looks between us, demanding. I look to Joe and Dylan for help, but remain unsuccessful. Dylan shifts uncomfortably under my pleading gaze, and Joe just grins, amused by the situation.
Just me, then. I take a deep breath. I'm going to need it.
"Basically Chase, Dylan and Joe were all at Alec's house last night. I was asleep in bed, but I got woken up in the middle of the night because Alec was in my room . . . He had my bra, Vi! And he was like a cat and he ran away, but I chased him to the window and then, um . . . I met these guys. He stole my Mickey Mouse bra. Now if you'll excuse me." I scarper from the scene and, without another word, escape into my math classroom.
"What?!" Violet shrieks in a hushed tone. "Alec Ryder stole your bra? Why? And more importantly, how come I didn't know about this until now?"
"I will answer any questions you have in Math, just please don't decapitate me." I wince, raising my hands in surrender.
"Okay, we're discussing this in class. I want every detail." Violet's eyes narrow.
"Every detail get you shall."
*~*~*
"And that's my sad, sad tale," I finish off in a hushed voice, peering warily over at the teacher to ensure she hasn't heard us. Although Violet and I sit in the furthest corner of the classroom from the teacher, Miss Thompson, she has eyes like a hawk and I hate the idea of her listening to us from behind that large lacquered desk of hers. She hasn't looked up from her marking, luckily, and I sigh in relief as I turn back to Violet, but the sigh quickly diminishes in my throat as I take note of her expression.
I wasn't exactly sure what I was expecting Violet's reaction to be after I told her about my weekend, but this wasn't on the agenda. A fangirl squeal? Interrogation? Sure. But instead I'm faced with something a lot scarier: Violet is thinking. You might think it strange for me to be worried about that, but nobody quite understands how opinionated Violet is. She's loud, confident and she knows her mind clearly. Very rarely do I ever see her actually thinking before she says something, hence my nervousness. Whatever Violet is about to say is going to be profound. I knit my fingers together.
"You want to get your bra back, right?" Violet asks hesitantly.
"Of course I do!"
"Well then I think you need to play his game." Excitement becomes more prominent in her dark, glittering eyes. "He's not going to give it back – accept that and move on. You need to pull out the big guns if you want that bra back, and I understand why you do. I mean, that Disney thing shouldn't be allowed to exist, not to mention in the hands of a sex god." She pauses to cringe, before continuing with a scary amount of enthusiasm. "Trick him, steal his boxers, embarrass that pretty little face of his and knock him down a peg or two."
I nod, fighting to restrain the evil laugh bubbling up my throat. Violet's right – did I honestly think he was going to give it back without a fight? No, I need to get my revenge.
"Should I be taking notes?" I say. "I feel like I'm at a boot camp or something. This is going to be so much fun."
I don't realise that my voice has risen too much until it's too late and I've gained the attention of the teacher. The clearing of someone's throat has never sounded more intimidating. "Miss Greene, have you got something you'd like to share with the class?"
"I, um . . . no, miss."
"And do you think it's acceptable to be talking throughout my lesson?" Mrs Thompson sneers at me from behind her thick-framed glasses. I shake my head meekly. People are turning around to watch the encounter. She's never really liked me, but I think that's her general consensus on teenagers rather than a personal matter. Most teachers like me. Her brown hair is long and pulled back into a low ponytail, and her teeth are dashed with crimson lipstick. Probably because she's always so busy snapping at students that she forgot she was applying it.
"Excuse me?" Her eyes widen in sheer shock before brimming over with liquid fire.
Shit. I didn't just say that aloud.
Her face flushes pink with anger, and I know that somehow, idiotically, I must have. Eyes are wide around the classroom and a hushed chatter flares up. Stupid, Riley, stupid. I never get into trouble, I'm a good student and I work hard. I'm not usually this idiotic. I close my eyes as I pray silently that the floor will swallow me whole.
"Detention!" she barks, her musty breath fanning my face so much that I have to fight to keep a straight face. "I will not have students disrespect me this way!"
Bitch.
Thank goodness I didn't say that out loud.
*~*~*
My hand knocks timidly on the door of the detention room, and a deep feeling of disappointment stirs in my gut. Cautiously, I take a few steps in to face Mr Harris, a fairly nice teacher from my Philosophy class a few years ago. Quite a strange man actually. I mean, you just have to take a look at his socks and sandals to know that.
He is funny though, in a wacky Russell Brand kind of way.
"Take a seat, Miss Greene, and complete the detention slip."
I turn to face the quiet room of people, English posters screaming punctuation and rows of pale blue desks. Tiana Cooper is sitting at the front. She taps her fingernails in a menacing manner, and her cold eyes are fixed precisely on me in one hell of a glare. Tiana and I aren't exactly best friends, and I try to avoid her as much as humanly possible. Feeling uncomfortable, I look away. Behind her is a boy commonly known as 'Greasy Damon' due to his lack of contact with a shower. Finally, there's the couple in the back who I can't make out because they're huddled over a notepad. A fun bunch, all in all.
I make my way to a seat by the window, a fair distance away from Damon's body odour and Tiana's glare. Leaning my head against the cool glass, I attempt to clear my mind a little. After six murderously long hours at school, I just want to be at home, but I can see why Miss Thompson sent me out. I must have embarrassed her a little bit. As much as that woman seems to hate me, I do owe her an apology.
I can't believe I'm in detention. I never get detention.
I wince as I hear the door opening, a fatigued sigh escaping my lips. I just want to go to sleep. Preferably not by succumbing to Metallica lullabies.
"Sit down, kid, and complete the detention slip." I hear Mr Harris's gruff voice speaking, but frankly I cannot be bothered to move an inch and see who my new detention buddy is. My head is killing me.
"Well, look at what the cat dragged in," a familiar voice chuckles beside me.
My head darts up, despite the pain, and I groan loudly as I see who it is. Alec raises an eyebrow, clumsily pulling out a chair and plonking himself into the seat to my right.
"Just for that outstanding enthusiasm, I'm going to come and sit next to you."
"Abracadabra," I mutter under my breath, before pausing to assess the damage. "Nope. You're still here."
"Don't even pretend like you don't love it," Alec retorts playfully. I don't feel like going along with the joke. How is it possible for a boy to be this annoying?
"What got you in here on your first day then?" I ask bluntly. It's not typical for a new student to get a detention on his first freaking day. Maybe the rumours are true.
"I had a little argument with Mr West on the nature of his teaching," Alec replies casually.
"The nature of his teaching?"
"The idiot insisted a kilometre was longer than a mile. I disagreed."
"Right."
"He didn't appreciate the manner in which I disagreed." Alec grins.
"Of course he didn't," I roll my eyes but a small smile lifts the corners of my lips before I can help it. Silently, I fish my phone from my pocket as a distraction. I have a horrible habit of scanning through my messages to avoid socialising.
"Well that's antisocial," he says, poking me. "Why are you in such a bad mood, Greene?"
"Not antisocial, just anti-idiot," I grumble. "And I'm not in a bad mood." I'm in such a bad mood, I don't know why I even bother denying it. It has something to do with this detention, my lack of sleep and a lot to do with the girl glaring at me from the front of the room.
"Are you Google?" Alec asks me bluntly.
"What?" I turn to him, squinting at his random remark. Where did that come from?
"Because you have everything I'm searching for."
I blink. "Are you ins–"
"I was reading a book of numbers yesterday, and I realise I don't have yours."
"What are you –"
"Do you believe in love at first sight? Or do you want me to walk by again?"
"Alec, seriously –"
"Are you a parking ticket? Because you've got 'fine' written all over you."
"Stop!"
"Stop what?" Alec asks me innocently, despite the malicious grin curving the corners of his lips upwards. "Giving you compliments? Cheering you up? Is a guy not allowed to hit on his crush these days?"
Did I just hear that? I begin to choke on my own saliva. "Crush! What?"
Alec snickers. "Sorry, I didn't think you'd fall for that. You are pretty, Greene . . ." He leans closer to my face. "Pretty stupid."
My face hardens into a humiliated scowl. What a jerk. I turn to look at my phone again, unlocking it quickly and flicking through my photos as my method of ignoring him. People like him feed off attention and for that reason I won't give him any. I can't wait for this detention to be over. Alec frowns beside me. Of course, he can't possibly deal with the silent treatment.
"Riley," he whines, poking me. My head throbs again.
"You are immensely irritating, do you know that?"
He smiles almost proudly. "I know. What are you doing?"
I roll my eyes. "Just looking through photos."
"Can I see?"
Sighing, I angle the phone towards him, flicking through photos of myself and Violet, food in idyllic cafes, screenshots of my favourite Instagram posts. I hesitate on a particularly fond photo from a couple of years ago, of Violet grinning at me over a latte, and I smile at my best friend. She's a kook, but I adore her. Alec shifts beside me to get a better look at the phone screen.
"Best friend?"
I nod. "Her name is Violet."
"She looks nice."
I give him a sideways glance and he chuckles. "Not like that, calm down."
Smiling slightly myself, I click onto the next photo on my camera roll and instantly freeze.
"Whoa," Alec breathes. "She looks so much like you."
I release a strangled breath, a lump of pure panic forming in my throat. I thought I'd deleted this. I thought I had deleted this. The photo is of me, about the age of twelve, while I was on holiday with my family. My hair is shorter, my smile is wider and there's a spark in my eyes that seems to have disappeared for ever by now. Beside me is my cousin. I can't even bear to look at her half of the photograph, so I lock the phone and hide it from sight. My eyes sting slightly. Alec shouldn't have seen that. "That's my cousin," I state as firmly as I can manage, composing my facial expression.
"Kaitlin couldn't hold onto her man either, could she, Riley?"
The smartass little comment comes from none other than Tiana Cooper, her icy voice cutting in from a table over. She faces me challengingly, and I instantly wilt under the weight of the words. Guilt festers in my stomach like a fungus, and I feel my vision start to tint red at the nerve of what she just said to me. She doesn't know what happened.
She has no right to even mention Kaitlin's name.
My hands shake with the anxiety of confrontation. I clench them away from sight and face Tiana, fully aware that she's intending to wind me up and it is working. Anger, I was taught in therapy last year, is one of the ways of expressing the amount of emotion and guilt I've built up. The only thing preventing me from jumping out of this seat and punching Tiana is the steady gaze of Alec resting on my face. I don't want the questions. I can't answer them.
"Say something like that about her again, I dare you." I breathe out slowly. She just wants the confrontation. My jaw is locked. I'm not sure whether my threat scared her, or whether she just felt I didn't have the nerve to do anything in front of these people, but Tiana just gives me a smug look and turns back to the front of the class. She thinks she's won, and maybe she has. Her words burn in my mind like fire, a rotting sick feeling in my chest.
She doesn't know anything. How can she?
I want nothing more than for Alec to go back to his normal jokes, and to think nothing of that picture and what he just saw. I need the distraction, the happiness, to get over what was just said to me. Luckily, he seems to realise this and doesn't comment on the showdown between Tiana and I. His eyes turn playful again, replacing the cold shock of my bad reaction.
"Can we keep looking at your photos?" he asks. "I was actually enjoying that."
"What are you, five?" I sniff, sliding my cell back in my pocket safely.
"Yup. I could be your toy boy, baby." He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. "The effect I have on you is adorable."
"What, you mean wanting to rip your head off your shoulders?" I reply, voice still shaking. My heartbeat is slowing as I relax into my chair again. It's okay, Riley, he didn't think anything of it. My headache has somehow got worse.
"You look like an angry kitten. Don't get me started on that blush."
"Shut up," I say. I can't deny it though – what he's saying is working. Distraction.
"Hey Riley?"
"What, Alec?" I sigh.
"Is your face from McDonalds? Because," he pauses to wink at me, "I am lovin' it."
Alec, infuriating as he is, is just what I need at this moment.