Young But Real (5 YA Short Stories)

The Bad Boy and His Angel

I see an angel, wearing a tight-fitting cream top and a mini flare black skirt, walking towards the gate of our school. An evil plan makes me steer the scooter in her direction.

Swoosh!

There goes her skirt flaring up, giving me a glimpse of her black shorty underwear.

"Fuck you!"

That's the most angelic profanity I have ever heard.

"I did!" I smirk.

"Rapist!"

That's the most evil word I have ever heard from an angel. I stop abruptly and then turn around. "What did you say?" I look around as gasps reach my fucking ears. I scoot in front of the accuser.

"You raped me." Her voice is now softer, as she realises that she catches the attention of the other students.

"Rape?" I chuckle nervously. "I never force someone to spread their legs for me." My lips curve into a smirk. "I will never forget how beautiful you were when you climaxed and smiled at me."

"Asshole!" A light blush appears on her cheeks. "I was drunk and horny. I never said yes. Heck, I will never sleep with you if I am sober," she says with so much disgust in her voice. I've never known that an angel's words hurt as hell until now.

"N-no, don't say that," I stammer, "We've been good since that night, right?" I say, masking the ache from my chest. Hurting her is the last thing I'll do. Am I fucking stupid to assume that we have made a progress after that night?

"No. I still hate you. I hate you more for making me weak," she says, hitting my chest with her fists. "The sex with you was...was the worst." She takes a step forward.

Is she running away again? I step forward as well to stop her.

"Angel —"

"Don't call me that!" she seethes.

"Mikayla, am I really that evil in your eyes?"

"A leader of the White Coast gang. A 20-year old who should have finished high school last year, but is still in high school. A guy who wears a black leather jacket and black boots," she pauses to breathe, "riding the fastest scooter in the world without a care. A player who fucks all the girls that come to him." Her gaze lands on my arms. "Lots of tattoos and oh a druggie...what do you think?"

She could have said, definitely a devil on a scooter. I stare at her angelic face longer, speechless. She looks at me briefly, probably waiting for my response. When she doesn't hear anything, she sidesteps and walks past me.

I utter a silent curse before turning around. "Mikayla, I didn't rape you. Please don't think I did. I will never do that to you or to anyone. For you, that night was the worst. For me, that was the best."

I hear her gasps but she doesn't turn around nor say something. She continues walking instead.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," I say, taking a deep breath. "I'm so sorry if you feel violated. Are you going to file a case against me?"

She peers over her shoulder and says, "I don't know. Just leave me alone."

I release a shaky breath as I watch her walk away. My angel hates me a lot to think that the night we'd shared, the best night of my life, was a fucking crime. That's probably the reason why she left before I even woke up and avoided me since then.

I kick the ground hard, feeling the friction even though the sole of my black boots is thick. I ride my scooter as fast as it can, away from the school. I'm not in the mood for lectures.