Trapped (Bullied Series #4) (SAMPLE)

Chapter 2

"Do you th-th-think she'll like the bracelet?" Kevin asked me, snapping me out of my gloomy thoughts.

We were on our way to my best friend Sarah Decker's eighteenth birthday party, but I kept dwelling on the incident with Blake.

"Definitely, and even if she doesn't, you know what they say: the best gifts come from the heart. I'm sure she'll love it."

She would definitely love it because she was someone who valued sentiments over material things, and she was the kindest girl I'd ever met. I owed her a lot because she'd always stayed by my side and stuck up for me no matter what, starting with that "welcome party" six months earlier.

I'd always considered myself weak—always resorting to tears and ditching others if it meant saving myself. I felt inferior next to Sarah, but I could never tell her that. I could never tell her I felt even more ashamed of myself when I was around her, so sure no one could ever need me, for how could anyone need a dead weight like me?

Sar never criticized me for being a coward. She never confronted me for bailing on her instead of fighting back against our bullies. She was the girl I admired most because even with all the bullying and difficulties she experienced in her life, she was strong and she kept going. I aspired to be like her, but it wasn't that easy.

I stopped at the red traffic light and looked at Kev. Ironically, I'd met Kev during another "welcome party"—the one Blake, Masen Brown, and their football teammates threw for him. It was as humiliating as mine with the students circling him and throwing food at him, until Sarah and I intervened and helped him get out of the cafeteria.

Kev and I had grown close in record time, especially because I saw my own weaknesses in him. He reminded me of myself—shy, insecure, plagued by the feeling of inferiority—which was all the more reason why I wanted to get stronger and be there for him. I learned through Sarah what it meant to fight for friends, and I wanted to fight for Kev. He also had a passion for music and sang in the choir, and it was cool to finally have someone who could fully understand how much music meant to me.

I flashed him a smile. "That new shirt suits you." The elegant black shirt he wore was a far cry from his usual tartan plaid shirts that swallowed his rawboned 6'3" build.

He blushed. "Th-Th-Thanks. My mom bought it for me. I didn't want to wear it, b-b-but she insisted."

"Your mom has a good taste."

"But I don't like it."

"I get you. My mom also likes to surprise me with new clothes I don't always like." I accelerated when the light turned green. "Still, you look good. I'm sure chicks will dig you tonight." I winked at him. "And guys."

He crossed his arms over his chest and remained silent, letting me know once again how touchy this topic was for him.

Kevin was bisexual, and he'd been struggling to accept his sexuality for years. He'd realized he also liked boys when one boy told him he had pretty blue eyes in third grade, and he had a crush on that boy for a long time. His classmates picked on him for it, making him ashamed of something no one should ever be ashamed of. Nine years later, he was still confused about his emotions.

There was another reason why Kev didn't want to talk about guys or crushes, and that was because he crushed on both Sarah's boyfriend, Hayden, and me. It was beyond awkward, and sometimes, I didn't know how to act or what to say, hoping he would crush on someone else who would be able to reciprocate his feelings. And to think that Blake thought there was something between Kevin and me. If only he knew.

"Wow. The party is already in full swing," Kev said when we reached Hayden's house.

I shifted my car into park at the end of a long row of vehicles that clogged the driveway. The addictive beat of the music blared through the walls, filling me with energy and euphoria. It was a given that I loved everything that had to do with music, which was one of the reasons why I enjoyed parties. There was nothing better than loud heavy-bass songs that sent my blood rushing through my veins and set my body on fire. That was freedom.