Falling For Xavier Reyes, My Bully

My Bully

BEATRICE

The apartment is quiet, too quiet.

Teddy is sprawled on the couch, one arm dangling off the side. The television still plays some cartoon he's fallen asleep watching. The faint glow from the screen lit up his peaceful face. I watch him from the kitchen table, my spoon resting limp in my hand. The noodles have long gone cold for a while.

I don't have an appetite.

The silence wraps around me like a cloak. It's suffocating and heavy. Mom hasn't come home again.

She's probably off with Pete, laughing at jokes that aren't funny, sipping wine like her life hasn't left scars on the people she is supposed to protect. I clench my jaw and look down at the table.

Life doesn't stop hurting just because I pretend don't. And school isn't any better.

Xavier has been acting…strange.

He was the same guy who had laughed when Sean made a pig sound in the hallway. But now he watches me sometimes, like he's trying to figure me out, or like he already has and doesn't like what he sees.

One moment he's throwing a smirk my way, leaning too close, and making me feel something I can't admit. The next, he is cold, distant. Laughing with his friends like I mean nothing.

And maybe I don't.

I'm not supposed to care. I know the game. Guys like Xavier don't see girls like me unless it's a joke. But still… something about the way his eyes lingered haunts me long after I'd looked away.

Right now, Stella is the only good thing that happened since I arrived at that hellhole of a school. She invited me to sit with her like it was the most natural thing in the world. That was it. No hesitation. No sideways glances. No judgement.

We've only known each other a few days, but Stellar makes it easier to breathe.

Still, even with Stella beside me, I can't stop the unease that stirs in my gut every time Xavier passes me by. There is something in his eyes, something dangerous. And the way he looked at me today?

Like he was about to pull me into a story I didn't agree to be a part of.

The next morning feels no different. Same too-tight jeans. Same hoodie I wear to hide the curve of her stomach. Same walk to school with my head low and earpiece in, even though there's no music playing.

Stella finds me by the lockers.

"You look like hell, Bea," she says bluntly, but there's no cruelty behind it. This was just Stella, direct, sharp, and oddly comforting.

I offer a half-smile. “Thanks. I aim to impress.”

We fall into step together, Stella casually flipping her dyed green bangs out of her face as we move through the hallway. People still stare. Still whisper. But now they whisper behind their hands, and some give second glances, not just because of me, but because of who I'm walking with.

Stella isn't exactly popular, but she has a kind of don't-mess-with-me aura that keeps most people at bay. She knows how to throw shade like a weapon, and she doesn't back down when the teasing starts.

"You gonna let Sean keep talking s**t?" Stella mutters as we pass the jocks clustered around the gym. I shake my head. "It’s not worth it." "Maybe not. But one day it'll be too late to speak up.” Stella's voice is low but firm. "Don't let them turn you into a ghost."

I don't reply. Not because I disagree, but because that's exactly what I feel like most days.

Then I see him.

Xavier is at the end of the hall, laughing with his crew. Tall, easy smile, his jacket unzipped over his school jersey like he doesn't even need to try. Girls watch him like he's a god. Teachers let him get away with everything.

His gaze flicks up and lands on me. For a second there, he doesn't look away.

There's something unreadable in his gaze. Something almost… interested. Like he sees me. Not as a joke. Not as a target. But as someone real. And then he turns to Parker and grins at something the other boy said. Laughter bursts out of him like it has nothing to do with me at all.

I look away, heat crawling up my neck. Toying with me. That's what this is. It has to be. I clench my books to my chest, forcing my feet to keep moving.

Stella must have noticed the change in me because she narrows her eyes in Xavier's direction. "He's trouble." Oh, hell. Don't I know it already, But for some reason, my heart wouldn't stop racing

The rest of the day passes in a blur.

Classes come and go. I scribble notes without really reading them, my mind miles away. Stella sticks by her side through lunch and biology, throwing glares at anyone who even looks like they want to say something snide. It helps, sort of.

But the unease never leaves. Not when I pass Sean and he makes an oinking noise under his breath. Not when I catch Xavier watching me again in English class, his face unreadable. And not when I find the note.

It was waiting for me at the bottom of my locker, folded in half and tucked between my books like a secret. I stare at it for a long moment before picking it up. My hands tremble.

"You think you're safe now, little pig? Just wait. The game's only started." No name. No handwriting I recognize. Just those words scrawled in thick black ink. Cold and deliberate. My chest tightens. The hallway spins for a second.

I look around, Stella is at her locker, chatting with someone from art club. A few students pass by without a glance. But none of them look guilty. None of them look like they have just left a threat in my locker.

I shove the note into my backpack, shut the locker door, and take a shaky breath. I keep my head down and follow Stella toward the front doors. That's when I see them. The football guys are gathered by their lockers—Parker, Sean, a few others, and Xavier.

Parker grins when he spots me. "Hey Beatrice!" he calls loud enough for the whole hallway to hear. "You dropped this!" He holds up a crumpled wrapper, candy or something, and tosses it toward my feet. The guys burst into laughter. I freeze.

Stella tenses beside me, but I reach out and stop her from stepping forward. I don't want to make a bigger scene. I don't want to give them the satisfaction.

My gaze flicks to Xavier. He isn't laughing. Not exactly. But he isn't stopping it either. He stands at the edge of the group, arms folded across his chest, eyes on me. And then, as if sensing my stare, he offers me a slow smirk. It is calculated. Cold. It feels like a slap.

I swallow hard and turn away, my heart pounding. Stella mutters something under her breath and shoots one final glare in their direction before pulling me out of the building. I don't look back. But my chest aches.

Whatever game Xavier is playing, he's getting better at it.