Chapter 2 (Rewritten)

152K 4.2K 4.8K
                                    

Chapter 2

Bad

*Derek*

I stare out the window at the passing shops and houses as my music plays loudly in my ears. Of all the schools that could have been chosen, why did I have to return to Kingsbury? Today was just the beginning of even worse days to come. With the reporters, the stares, and the judgmental comments, I'm missing Juvie more and more.

Christine, my mother, pulls into the driveway. As soon as she puts the car in park, I climb out of the car and head inside. I go straight to my room and shut the door behind me. I sit on my bed, the plushness of it still feeling strange to me. With a sigh, I slide down to the floor where it feels more like the bed I'm used to. My phone vibrates and a text from my best friend Jace pops on the screen.

I heard you're out of juvie. When are we meeting up?

If Jace knows that I'm out, there's no doubt that Gavin, my old boss, knows. I'm sure I'll be hearing from him soon enough.

My door bursts open and I remove the headphones from my ears. Christine stands before me with her arms folded across her chest.

"Could you not barge into my room?" I ask.

"I'm sorry. I knew you wouldn't answer if I knocked so... Anyway, I heard about what you did in class today." She says. "I thought you promised to be on your best behavior?"

"My best behavior?" I ask, trying to keep the smile off my face. It's funny that she still sees me as a child. "I'm not a child, Christine. I'm seventeen years old."

"You were just released yesterday." She continues. "I really hoped that you would turn your life around."

"Well, maybe I like my life the way it is. Now get out of my room."

"Derek... I'm really trying, okay?"

"Get out!"

Christine heaves a sigh before finally leaving my room. She shuts the door behind her and I can just make out the sound of crying. I place my headphones back in my ears and turn the volume up until I can't hear her anymore.

*Arabella*

John bounces up and down as he pokes me in the arm with the end of his fork. He laughs with each poke, making me angrier and angrier.

"Hello!" I exclaim. "Your youngest child is poking your eldest child with a fork. Repeatedly. Don't you want to do something about it?"

"John, leave your sister alone and eat your food." My dad says passively. I didn't realize it would take so much effort to discipline a five-year-old.

"How was your day today, sweetheart?" my mother asks.

"Fine, I guess." I shrug. "It was like any other day." I'm sure my parent's would flip if I told them about the scene we had in Mrs. Lewis's class. Which is exactly why I won't be telling them about it.

"Not with that murderer there it wasn't." My dad says. "Did you see him at all today?"

"He's in my first period class." I admit. My dad heaves a sigh as he and my mother share a look. I look at them both with raised eyebrows.

"I think we should consider transferring you to a different school." He says.

I immediately drop the fork from my hand and stare at them with wide eyes. Why would they suggest such a crazy idea? It's nearly the middle of my senior year.

My Bad Boy Is A Murderer [EDITING]Where stories live. Discover now