The Bad Boy

1

"Do I have to go to the party?" I whined at Melanie, who was trashing my closet looking for clothes.

"Yes." She threw a red shirt at my face, "Maggie! Do you have any clothes that don't make you look like a freaking nun? You dress like such a virgin!"

"That's because I am." I fell back onto my bed and groaned. I laid there for a few minutes waiting for Melanie to pick an outfit for me. 

"Remember that black dress you got that was too big for you in 8th grade because you had no butt or boobs?" Melanie asks sitting next to me. I nod. "Well it's gonna be a little tight now but you are wearing it with my black heels." 

She hands me the dress and I put them on in the bathroom. I walk out and Melanie looks at me with her mouth open in awe. "It's too much boob," I say looking in the mirror.

"No! You look amazing." She stands up next to me and stares at our reflection. "Let's go get fücked up."

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I walk into the big house where dozens of people are dancing and talking. All I can smell is pot, alcohol, and cigarettes. I walk around to try to find a place to sit and wait to go home when someone pulls me into them. 

"You look extremely hot tonight babe." The guy slurs drunkenly. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the kitchen where only about six other people were. He grabbed a cup and filled it with liquor. "Drink," he said pressing the cup into my lips.

"I don't drink, please let me go." I tried to hold back tears that were forming.

"No." He yelled making his grip tighter that I wince in pain. A tear streams down my face as he drags me down a hallway. He stops at a door and tries to open it when someone cleared their throat. I continued to look at the ground as the person walked closer.

"Carter, give me the girl." A guys voice yelled angerly.

"No," Carter said nervously. I looked up to try to see who was there but the tears made my vision blurry. All I could see was the guy rip Carter's hands off of my wrist before he pushed me to the side. 

I wiped the tears from my eyes and saw the two boys fighting in front of me. I tried to pull the other guy off of Carter. "Stop it!" I cried as I pulled harder. He finally stopped after a minute and looked at me. It was Austin Collins. I looked down at Carter. He was passed out as there was blood everywhere. 

"I think I broke his nose." Austin laughed. I started to cry again and leaned against the wall. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Yeah," I wiped the tears from under my eyes. "Thank you, I don't know what would have happened if you didn't help."

"I didn't do it for you. Carter owes me money and you were in the way." He said getting up, extending a hand to help me up. 

I get up (without the help of Austin) and we walk out of the party. Austin guides me to a motorcycle and throws me a helmet. "Um, I don't really like motorcycles that much," I told him.

"What do you like more, Carter or motorcycles?" He turns the ignition and I get on behind him, putting on my helmet. "Just hold on to me tight and don't scream." 

And then we were off. 

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"I told you to hold on tight, not squeeze the life out of me," Austin complained as he fixed his black hair. 

"I told you I don't like motorcycles." I smiled a bit at him. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and put one in his mouth. 

"Want one?" He asked.

"I've never smoked."

He looked at me with confusion, "What?"  I giggled a bit as he lit his. He walks towards my porch and sits on the steps. I follow him and we just sit there in silence for a minute until he spoke.

"Put the cigarette between your fingers." I looked up at him confused. "Just do it." 

He hands me his and I do what he says. " Now inhale but keep the smoke in your lungs for a few seconds then exhale." 

I breathe in the smoke and try to not cough. I exhale and just start coughing. It lasts for awhile until I feel like I can breathe normally. 

"Not bad." He smiled at me. 

"Do you want to come inside for coffee or something? My parents are on vacation until next week so I have the house to myself."

"Just because I gave you a ride and gave you your first smoke doesn't mean I'm your friend." He walked to his motorcycle. 

"I never said I wanted to be your friend. I have goals in life and hanging around the schools 'bad boy' wouldn't help me at all." I yelled defensively.  "I was offering coffee! Not friendship bracelets, just fücking coffee!"

"Whatever." 

And with that, he sped out of my driveway and down the road.