the bad boy's girl

06 - TBBG

06 - THE BAD BOY'S GIRL

Was I insulted? Yes. Was I, a bit, scared? Well, yes! I had barely seen the boy smile, and I tell him off, and he starts laughing like a lunatic.

Obviously, that displayed on my face, because he shook his head, giving me this smile that said he was still fighting off laughter. He took a few long strides to tower over me. "Aaliyah Reid," he drawled my full name, with that cute smile, "you are otherworldly, you know that?" My mouth dropped open. "And, I can't straighten out anything, babe, I'm bisexual."

I was speechless; completely, and utterly speechless. "You fucking enigma -"

That laugh, it was so bewitching, and endearing, I loved, and hated it. "We haven't gotten to the best start," he admitted, "and, I guess that's my fault, but I. . . I like you. You're very. . . not like anyone else I've met."

"I - well, thank you," I accepted the compliment. "So, uh, you're bi, huh?"

"That's what I said, isn't it," he teased, and we resumed walking. He peered down at me. "Please don't tell me you're one of those girls who equate being gay, and bisexual as the same thing."

I shook my head. "No, actually, I'm bisexual too. I'm just surprised s'all. I don't wanna say that you don't look like you'd be bisexual, but no one has mentioned it, and people aren't exactly nice about Tommy being gay. . ."

"You saw what happened to Vega?" he asked rhetorically, "no one wants that to happen to them."

We were approaching the bus stop as we talked. There was a number of people there, in, or around the sitting space, illuminated by city paid lights. I was relieved that we hadn't missed it, because I was sure it was pass the scheduled time.

I casted a glance at him. "But, the girls, they aren't nice about it, either."

He shrugged. "Don't really care if they do, don't really care if anyone does. People are bi - assholes, and I'm use to it. I don't care when people talk shit, it doesn't bother me. If it happens, it happens."

My forehead creased, stopping a few inches away from the bus stop. "OK, but Vega—he said, like, one thing, and you completely flipped your shit over it," I brought up.

His face darkened at the mention, and his angular jaw clenched. "Vega. . . he knows certain things, and what he said may seem like nothing, but it means much more than that, and he knew it, which is why I couldn't stop myself," he defended vaguely, "I'm not some violent asshole—OK, I am, but I have it under control. I don't just fuckin' attack people for lookin' at me wrong."

"That reminds me, why'd you tell me you only have two siblings? You have three?" I questioned, because it would probably be the only time I could. Obviously, I wouldn't bring up his scars, but I'd find out as much about him as I could before we finished the project, and he never spoke to me again, and vice versa.

His exhale was hard, and his eyes shut again. "My brother. . . he's a sore subject," he confessed, eyes flashing vulnerability, "my family in general, they're a sore subject. Aaliyah, please don't ask me about my family. You probably have a good family -"

"Nope," I cut him off, understanding now, because I didn't want to divulge about my alcoholic mother, and dead father, whose death happened to be my fault. "I won't ask you about yours, and you won't ask me about mine, deal?"

He seemed surprised, almost hesitant as if he wanted to ask, but nodded. "Deal."

The bus pulled forward, and I made sure to keep a hand around his wrist. I paid the bus driver, an older woman, before we began making our way toward the back. Being one of the last to board, the bus jerked to a fast speed before we even sat down. Luckily, there was one pair of seats left, the bus crowded because it was about the time everyone got off from work, like me.