I ran out of the house, my heels not helping me at all in my mission to get the hell away. I’d never done…that before. Sure, I’ve played hard to get, but when you’re pretty much gotten, that move loses all the power. I’ve never stopped a hot, nice-smelling guy from kissing me before. Maybe something wrong with me?! Had I inhaled too many dumb public school germs from the dumb public school students?
I searched through my pockets, almost at the end of Carter’s road, for my Smart Car keys. Then stopped. Shit. I left my car at school. What the hell was I meant to do? I couldn’t walk home the sixty miles or so that were between mine and Carter’s houses. Damn him, and his little suburban-area-located home.
Should I turn back? No, seeing him would be worse than walking the sixty miles. I bit my lip. I could sneak back and hot-wire Tom’s car, but I’d only done it once before, and I wasn’t very good at the whole engine thing – it would take me at least twenty minutes. What about Carter’s bike? Motorbikes were easier to hi-jack, but it would take me about five minutes.
I turned back.
And saw his bike.
Oh, it was like the bike was possessed or something, and had suddenly jumped closer to me. No, the thing that sent my heart thumping was the guy who sat on the bike.
Carter Gray.
“You need a ride home?” he said, his brown fringe falling just over his equally-brown eyes. His muscular arms gripped the handle, and flexed impressively as he stretched up. His jeans were tight are fit oh-so-perfectly, and his smile was perfect. Yum. I kind of wish I made the bet about him now. “Max doesn’t take to much care so his…girls.” His eyes went up and down my body, stopping at the hickey Max had left.
“Sure,” I said, walking towards him, casually, flicking my hair, but covering the hickey at the same time. He passed me his helmet, and I slipped it on.
“Tell me which way to go,” he said, as my arms tightened around his HARD abs.
“Okay.”
He took off, and I closed my eyes as the familiar feeling of ride a motorbike engulfed me – the wind, the freedom, and the sheer speed. And, of course the warm of a guy’s back, ad you pressed your chest against him. Damn. I had to get a bike soon. How long until my Dad bought me the motorbike he promised? A Kawasaki ZX-10R would be awesome.
“Oh, by the way,” I yelled, against the wind. “I’m not Max’s girl. I’m single.”
If I could’ve seen his face, he would probably have been smiling.
***
“This is your house?” he asked, taking off my helmet for me. “It’s massive.”
I looked up at my own house – the gorgeous white mansion, dimly lit by soft lights all around, emphasizing the whole “grand” house thing. The front lawn was lush – well kept by our gardener who came daily, and a bird-bath stood in the middle.
I hated it. It was a big, daily reminder of who I was, and who I was related to – my parents. It was cold and empty, because my parent barely ever came home – once a month, for a day or so, and never at the same time. I was all alone in the house, something most other teenagers would have loved, but it was just boring for me.
“Yeah,” I murmured, non-committally. “I guess. Anyway, thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime,” he said, smiling.
We stood there awkwardly for a few moments. I bit my lip shyly, and brushed away my new fringe with my hand, looking at my shoes. This is what I was good at – getting guys hooked. This was comfortable to me. This was easy. I was most definitely not different. I was exactly the same girl before I met Max – I mean, came to this school. Damn it.
I looked up at his again, through my eyelashes.
“Thanks again,” I said, smiling my best smile now. I leaned in (well, up. Wow, he was tall), and kissed his cheek, pressing my face against his neck.
“I’ll return the favour,” I whispered.
Time for a dramatic departure.
I’ve so not changed. I’m the same bad-girl I always was.
***
“Get up, Miss Alexis, please. It is time for school,” my Maid said, opening my curtains. I winced, and pulled the duvet over my head.
“I’m not going to school today,” I said, my voice muffled from the hiding-from-the-blinding-sun thing. “I’m very sick. Cough, cough.”
“Miss Alexis, please get up. There is a package your father sent for you.” Oh great, another foreign doll for my stupid semi-mummified by dust China Doll collection. Did he not realize I was already, like, seventeen?
“But I’m ill. Cough.”
“Miss Alexis, I’m not going to call the school and tell them that you’re sick, just because you’re saying the word ‘cough’. Now please, get up! Your father’s package is slightly bigger than usual.”
I jumped up, out of bed, abandoning the whole “sick” thing. OH MY GOD!
“Is it the bike? TELL ME it’s the bike?!”
She smiled at me.
“Yes, Miss Alexis, it’s the bike.”
I ran all the way screaming down the stairs, even though I was in nothing but some lacy lingerie. I ran into our garage, dashing past my ugly Smart Car, and running towards the glossy red bike I saw, decorated with a big pink bow tie. I recognised it thing easily. The Honda V4. The most beautiful, modern motorbike in the world.
I hugged it, feeling the glossy paint. There was a card, attached to the big bow.
Alexis, this is the bike I promised. I have not yet had any reports of misbehaviour, and so this is me keeping my end of the bargain.
Your Father.
“I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, DAD!” I said, squeezing the front wheel. It was so beautiful. “Hey, Katrina!” My Maid came in, smiling at me – probably because I was semi-naked, sitting on cold concrete, hugging a bike.
“Yes, Miss Alexis?”
“You like Smart cars, right?” I said, tossing her the keys to my crappy pile of car (I kept the keys under the thing. I’d lose them otherwise, and plus, no one would ever want to steal it) that, though was still new, looked like shit next to my new bike. “Here’s today’s bonus. Why don’t you take it out for a spin?”
***
I flew against the wind, my cool pink leather gloves tightening as I went around a steep bend. This is what I loved – knowing I was awesome at this, but that if I swerved and crashed I could die – my life was in my own hands. It’s only in these moments, I feel free.
Okay, so I gave in and went to school, but it’s only to keep this whole thing up with my Dad – maybe, if I tried harder, he’d give me my Ferrari back – totally my life and soul.
My scarf was flapping like crazy – I’d gone for a more casual look today – black Armani skinny jeans, with a red Hollister T-shirt, and a Chanel leather jacket. Oh, and my navy converses (I have about a billion Converses at home). The only thing I needed to complete the “biker-chic” look was an actual helmet. You know, since it would be semi-helpful if I do crash.
I got to school way fast (another thing I loved about bikes. The fact you could overtake someone without getting a ticket, or crashing into a car going the opposite way) which was kind of a bad thing, since I REALLY didn't want to go to school. I skipped a load of lessons yesterday so there would be hell to pay, plus I had History first thing, which would be awkward to the point of suicidal. We were working on our projects today and the stupid teacher had put me with Max. I parked my motorbike in the school car park, and made towards the school gates.
Suddenly, I was vibrating. What the hell?
I opened my new Marc Jacobs tote, and my iPhone was vibrating, and a picture of Ollie pouting on the screen. I leaned against a wall, and picked up.
“Olivia?”
“Allie!”
I groaned.
“Don’t call me Allie. I hate Allie.”
“You’re nickname’s Allie?” a deep male voice behind me said. I turned. Carter.
“I’ll call you back.”
Before I cut Ollie off I heard her yell – “No wait don’t who was–”. I slipped my iPhone back into my bag.
“If you call me Allie I’ll deck you,” I said, smiling up at him.
He smirked, like he was thinking, “I’d quite like that.”
“My friends call me worse. Max calls me Vroom Vroom.”
I giggled.
“That is bad. He literally calls you that every time he sees you?”
He nodded, sticking his hands into his jeans, looking like (cute) embarrassed little boy. Kind of sweet.
“Is this your bike by the way?” he said, running a finger over the seat. “It’s awesome. The Honda V4?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s mine. Just got it last night.”
“What, my crappy bike reintroduced your love of riding?”
I laughed.
“I guess. How did you know I rode?”
“I can tell,” he said, smirking. “You got on yesterday without showing your panties. That skill takes at least a couple years to master.”
“And you would know, because…?”
We laughed together, and I started walking to school, “Vroom Vroom” (LOL) beside me. This was nice – you know, casually flirting with a hot guy. Familiar.
“Where you heading?”
“My homeroom.”
“Want me to walk you?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “Let’s go.”
***
“Oh my GOD,” Ollie hissed, as soon as Carter was gone. “Was the Carter? Wow, you really don't waste time, do you?”
Cheerleader was next to us in our homeroom (how did I miss that before?! I AM SO UNOBSERVATIVE!), and was looking at me in interest – I’m surer she would’ve loved to go up to Max and say something like, “Hey, you know that girl Alexis? Yeah, well, she’s going out with your friend Carter.” Like I’m going to let that happen. My parents were completely serious this time – If I get kicked out of this one, I have to go move to India to work for some crappy branch of my Dad’s company. My official last chance.
“Oh, we’re just friends,” I announced loudly to the whole room (all the girls were watching me with death-glares. Apparently it had gotten round I was Max’s history partner already and we were a little TOO close, and so I’d made about a billion enemies in the school. God, the problems you have when you’re a Hot Guy’s girlfriend. Thank god they’re are cute, or no one would ever go through the major semi-crippling issues). “He already has a girlfriend called, um, Britney.”
The entire female population seemed to groan in disappointment, and complained loudly to each other. If I knew high schools, and I knew high schools, then that news would go around in about five minutes, which would provide a nice distraction for the girls who were currently busy hating me. I could see some girls get out phones to text already.
The bell rang, and we all went to first lesson. I dawdled as much as I could in the toilets, fluffing up my hair and slicking on some lip-gloss, but then I had to go – Dad did say if I played up too much, he’d take the bike away, and I’d missed a couple classes yesterday anyway.
I walked into the History room, and made for my desk.
Max was sitting there, but he wasn’t alone. Blonde was next to him, in my seat, laughing at something he said. He looked up, into my eyes, and for a second, he looked like he’d thought he won.
But there’s always another round.
Bad Girl 2, The Player, 2
***
Author's Note: This author doesn't share the opinion expressed in this chapter. Since the author is a dumb public school students, the author can't really talk. The author now wants you to vomment some more :)