Beauty and the Bad Boy

chapter 1

    There was something weird about the first days of school. The day is always painted a different hue of hope; a picture of a blank slate. 

    When I was younger, Mom would always take a photo of me in front of whatever house we were living in at the time. In Kindergarten, it was a shoddy apartment building outside the perimeter of some big city. The houses shifted from small and broken to the present, which happened to be a one-story home on the side of a quiet road only minutes away from Fairfield High School. I knew that because I had driven to it only weeks ago when we first moved.

    Mom and I were always moving. She always claimed it was because of her job (she worked as a geriatric nurse) but I knew otherwise. I blamed it on her failed relationships. She didn’t know that I knew about the men that banged at our doors in the early mornings or the threats left on the main phoneline’s voicemail. 

    This morning, Mom was sitting at the kitchen, which was a surprise. She was usually gone before I even woke up. 

    “Morning, honey,” she said as I walked in. She slid over her plate of half-eaten eggs and toast, which I gratefully accepted. Mom didn’t cook often, but when she did it was amazing. Or maybe it tasted that way because most nights we had frozen pizzas or take-out. 

    I sat down, putting my backpack on the floor. Mom smiled at me and I was aware once again of how utterly different we looked. She was a classic American beauty with honey-blonde hair streaked with gray and light green eyes. There were wrinkles that lined her face by her eyes and lips. I was so different with olive skin, thick dark hair, and hazel eyes. My father was Indian, which is why I looked so different. I didn’t know anything else about him, other than his ethnicity and the fact that he was a tool. 

    “What’re you doing home?” I asked, shoveling a few pieces of eggs onto the toast and preparing for a bite. 

    Mom tucked some hair behind her ear. “I have the morning off. I wanted to drive you to school.” 

    A smile made its way onto my lips. She hadn’t driven me to school in years. I guess the first day of my senior year was also making her feel somewhat sentimental. “That’d be great.” I took another bite and glanced at the clock, which indicated that I was already late. “s**t,” I cussed. 

    “Language, Amber,” Mom scolded, but she didn’t seem that bothered. She also looked at the clock and rolled her eyes. “I’ll get the car started. You have food in your teeth, clean up.” 

    Before I could be smart back, Mom left the table with the keys and my backpack. 

    I raced up to the bathroom and rinsed my mouth a few times before checking my reflection. The makeup covered most of the dark bags that were permanently under my eyes. However, it didn’t cover the look of nervousness that clouded over my features. Who knew that these kids would be like. I was tired of the social hierarchies that seemed to be within each school. Maybe senior year meant everyone would be more mature. 

    After quadruple checking my face for zits or smudged eyeliner, I decided that I wasn’t going to get any prettier so I left. 

    Outside, to my surprise, Mom was talking to two people I didn’t recognize. As I approached the group, I realized that it was a guy about my age and an older lady that looked a lot like the guy. Now, the guy wasn’t just any guy. Usually I wasn’t one to have crushes or anything dreamy like that (I was usually too busy trying to make friends with the catty girls or studying), but this guy could have literally walked right out of a Calvin Klein ad. He was freaking hot with a chiseled jaw and tousled sand-colored hair. He was tall, about six feet, with broad shoulders and biceps that bulged from underneath his red flannel shirt. 

    “Oh! Speaking of my daughter, here she is,” Mom gushed, more animated than I had ever seen her. 

    The other lady gasped and held out her arm. When I reached out to shake it, she surprised me by pulling me into a firm hug. 

    “You’re absolutely gorgeous, darling!” The lady shrieked. “If you don’t mind me asking, what ethnicity are you?” 

    Mom saved me by answering. “Her father was Indian and I’m a whole bunch of European. She really is a stunner.” 

    I blushed at the unexpected attention. The only person that seemed to care less was the guy. 

    The lady elbowed the guy, “Ryder, be polite. Introduce yourself,” she hissed, all with a bright smile on her face. 

    The guy, Ryder, looked absolutely bored. “I’m Ryder,” he said. 

    “And I’m Angie, his mom. But people always confuse me for his sister,” the lady joked, laughing loudly as if what she had just said was the funniest thing ever. The joke wasn’t even that funny, but her laugh was so infectious, I couldn’t help but join in. 

    “Anyway, we’re right next door if you need anything! I’m so sorry we didn’t introduce ourselves earlier, it’s been so hectic with moving his sister Courtney back into college. But no time like the present, right?” 

    Mom nodded, a smile dancing on her lips. “Absolutely, Angie. Ryder, what grade are you in now?” she asked. 

    “I’m a senior,” he responded. 

    Angie clutched her son’s arm. “Amber, you must be a senior as well! Oh, this is lovely Ryder can show you around school and introduce you to all his friends. They’re very handsome and good boys, I’ve known them since forever. Of course, not as handsome as my boy,” she gushed, looking affectionately at her son. 

    I bit my own lip to keep from laughing. Now, Ryder looked like he wanted to disappear. 

    We settled into a comfortable silence before Angie gasped, apparently having an epiphany. “Ryder! Why don’t you take Amber to school?” 

    Mom shook her head. “No, Angie, we wouldn’t want to impose. It’s only a few minutes away.” 

    Ryder glared at his mother. “Yeah, Mom. They don’t want to impose,” he reiterated, an edge to his voice. 

    Angie ignored him. “I insist! I pay for the car and the gas so it’d be like I’m driving them. Plus, it helps the environment. A win-win. And then you, Samantha, can come over for coffee,” she stated. 

    Mom tried (with no avail) to decline, but about seven minutes later I was in the passenger seat of his black Jeep Wrangler. 

    Ryder was going at least ten miles above the speed limit, fiddling with the aux cord. “Do you have any music preference?” he asked. 

    I shook my head, still not trusting myself to speak. 

    He shrugged. “So, where’d you move from?” he asked.    

    “Not too far away. Connecticut.” 

    “Any friends you left behind?” 

    I let out a sigh. The sad truth was that I wasn’t there long enough to really make enough friends. The only thing I left behind was an article I was writing that would’ve exposed the cheerleading team’s hazing ring. 

    I should also mention that journalism was my thing. It was hard to assimilate into the student body. News was perpetual everywhere, and I could integrate myself into the social circles under the guise of a reporter. 

    Ryder glanced at me. “Touchy subject? Let me guess, you left behind a boyfriend?” 

    I let out an unattractive snort. “Boyfriend? Absolutely not. I’ve just moved around since forever so getting that question is kinda...boring.” 

    “Why do you move so much? Your mom in the CIA or something?” He asked. 

    “We just do, okay?” I shot back, harsher than I intended. Luckily, he backed off and I was left feeling like an i***t. This guy could’ve been my in and now I had ruined it. 

    The car slowed down and suddenly we were in the parking lot at my new school. Great.