Sleeping with a Bully

The Heir

Nine years ago, John and Terry at age seven

"You're here again."

Terry looked up from the book she was reading. John entered the room, a smirk on his face. She scowled.

"Good afternoon," she mumbled, trying to muster some politeness in her tone. He was, after all, the son of her parents' important business associate. Her mother had punished her severely for kicking him before. She didn't want to be punished again. "Is there anything I can do for you, John?"

John's smirk widened. "You look like you just swallowed a frog," he commented.

"I actually prefer to eat frogs than to be in your company but we can't have everything we want, can we?" she said with a saccharine smile on her lips.

"Oh, but I can have whatever I want." John sat next to her, so close that she had to pull her skirt free from under his legs. "I only have to say a word."

Terry looked away. "Lucky you," she muttered softly.

She picked up her book again and started reading. She was aware the little brat was staring at her but she didn't care. If she had to suffer his company, then he'd have to suffer her silence too.

John broke it, however, by taking her book. "Isn't this a high school textbook?" he asked in astonishment. "Aren't you a little young to be reading it? Shouldn't you be reading fairy tales instead?"

Snatching it back, Terry scooted backwards on the sofa and gave him another well-placed glare.

"My mother doesn't like me reading fairy tales," she answered. "She says they will rot my brain."

John laughed. "Rot your brain? That's insane." He stopped laughing and studied her for a moment. "Come with me," he finally said, taking her hand.

Surprised by his sudden familiarity, Terry let herself be pulled by John outside the room and to the hall. After what seemed like a long walk around his mansion, meandering different halls, turning corridors and climbing stairs, they finally reached their destination.

With a grin, John nodded at the maid following them. The maid opened the door and gestured them in. Terry gasped in delight. Shelves and shelves of books towered inside the massive room. John went to one shelf and picked up a book. Beckoning to her, he made her sit on a velvet sofa and gave it to her. It was the Grimm's Fairy Tales.

"My mother won't like me reading this," she muttered more to herself than to him. "She really won't like this."

"She isn't here, is she?" Terry glanced at him. He was sitting on an armchair beside her, an elbow to the arm, fist to the side of his face, observing her. "You can read anything you want here."

"Why?" she blurted out. Suspicious, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you trying to get me into trouble? I already apologize for kicking you but if you haven't insulted me by calling me names and comparing me to Sadako then I wouldn't have done it."

"We're friends, aren't we?"

Terry went mum, bewildered by his reply. Or was it because of the smile that graced his features, genuine and kind, devoid of his usual arrogance?

"I like you, Terry. And I want to be your friend."

**********

The cafeteria was filled with nervous chatter and whispers when I walked in. Heading to the table where Hannah was, I noted the tense atmosphere, the nervous looks and pale faces. I pursed my lips and continued to walk to the table where Hannah was, ramrod straight, one foot in front of the other, just like I learned in etiquette class. I was still shaken by the encounter with John earlier but I was damned if I'd let it show.

Hannah looked up and smiled tremulously when she spotted me. She waved the empty space beside her and I took it.

"Thanks for getting me my food, Hannah," I told her as I picked up the fork from the tray.

She leaned into me and murmured, "Did you hear the news, Terry?"

My eyes went to her. "What news?"

Across the table, Mary and Cecil, two friends of the same year, stopped whispering at each other and looked at us. They both had brown hair, both on the short and chubby side and looked like they could be sisters except Cecil had brown eyes while Mary had blue.

"He's back, Terry," Cecil said with a worried frown.

"Who's back?"

"You know who."

"Voldemort?" I said dryly and saw Hannah's lips twitched. Cecil, however, did not look amused. "I'm not in the mood for guessing games, Cecil, so please. Just say it."

"Gage," Mary blurted out, wringing her hands on top of the table. "Leon Gage."

Ah.

This again.

"I thought he was finally expelled." Cecil shook her head. "With all the crimes he had committed, surely the school had done something about him."

"I heard that over the summer he beat up little children in the park," Mary supplied.

"I heard he was caught using drugs."

"Where did you get those information?" I asked curiously.

"From the school grape vine," Hannah replied.

I scowled. "Rumors. You know how I dislike rumors, Hannah."

"But what if they're true?" Mary protested. "Then we're all in danger."

"You should have moved schools then, Mary," I said tersely.

Mary bit her lip and moved her gaze away from me. Cecil gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder and gave Hannah a meaningful look. Hannah sighed and elbowed my side gently.

I gritted my teeth. Mary's and Cecil's parents were my parents' friends from business. I was supposed to be pleasant to them at all times. But it was tiring, trying to keep up with them when we had nothing in common. If it weren't for Hannah, I'd be sitting alone in the cafeteria, an outcast. Not that I wouldn't minded. I'd rather prefer being alone than being with shallow people who wasted their parents' money lavishly and thrived on petty gossip.

Leon Gage was the most feared and the most dangerous student of East Private School. According to the rumors, he was a bully with a violent temper, a formidable enemy and a frightening opponent. Nobody dared to cross him because of this. Not a student, not a teacher. He practically owned the school without even saying it.

Usually, while everyone talked about him and discussed the rumors circulating around him, I'd ignore everyone and mind my own business. I never gave a damn about him. I had my own problems to deal with. But whenever he came to school, he was always with the person I didn't want to see. It made me care enough to step away from his path.

Hannah elbowed me again and I exhaled exasperatedly.

Looking at Mary, who was close to tears, I amended in a softer tone, "We're safe if we're careful and avoid him, Mary. He doesn't come much to school anyway."

Hannah nodded. "That's right. We've done it before, we can do it this year. We'll just have to stay away from him. Him and John Steele."

My gut tightened at the mention of John's name.

"You're right," Mary sighed. "We'll just stay away."

"It's a shame, though," Cecil said thoughtfully. "John's such a waste. If only he wasn't friends with that monster then he'd still be in our circle. He's changed a lot because of Gage."

I tuned them all out when they continued to talk about John. Bending my head down, I picked at my food, thinking of how indeed he had changed.

John and I met when we were both 7 years old.

It was during a party held by his parents. His parents were my father's new business associates and the main reason why we moved from Japan. With their help and connections, my father was able to expand and establish our business in America. The Sakurai-Evans Group was going to rise again with the aid of one of the largest pharmaceutical company in the country. Dad was pleased. My mother's parents even so for they were right to choose him to marry their daughter because he helped save their business and protect their honor.

John was arrogant and shrewd when he was a little boy. Being the only son and sole heir of everything his parents built and possessed, he lived a luxurious lifestyle and always had a maid or butler in tow. He was English from his mother's side and was usually in impeccable clothes. He was intelligent but temperamental and although not given to tantrums, he had a harsh tongue that could make you feel lower than a rat. He hated dirt, hated being dirty and hated being anywhere dirty.

And he hated girls. Always treated them with utmost contempt.

Including me.

When we first met, he insulted me. He didn't like being forced to babysit me while the grown-ups talked about their latest business venture. So he began to insult me, called me stupid when I tripped over my English words and told me how I butchered the language.

When he started to compare me to Japanese ghosts and demons he had seen and read about, I had enough. He didn't see it coming; he was standing by the window, looking out at the party in the gardens while he muttered complaints and insults. I kicked him where he stood.

The next time we saw each other, he had changed.

He was still arrogant, but he was friendlier and kind. I didn't know what caused the change. At first I was suspicious. Dad sometimes visited their house, which was in another city from where we were living, and he would always bring me with him. And whenever I went, my mother made sure I was in my best dress, my face powdered, my cheeks pinched and my hair in ringlets. I hated going there.

But John won me over with his humor and charm. And it didn't take long before we became best of friends.

The transition to a new city and country had been rough for me. While my brother adjusted quickly, it took me a while to get used to my new environment. Making friends were hard. The other kids saw my timidity as snobbishness, my silence as conceit. John was the only friend I had and I began to look forward to our visits.

Then suddenly, he changed.

He hurt me, broke my young heart.

And turned rebellious.

Gone was the smart, elegant boy. In place was a brash, crude teen who shaved all his hair and wore piercings.

Gone was our friendship. He had a new best friend now, the infamous Leon Gage.

"Didn't John completely ignore you in one of his family's parties?" Mary asked Cecil, her question jolting me out of my thoughts.

Cecil frowned. "I heard he disliked girls back then. Obviously, he doesn't now since I heard some girls saying how good he was in bed. But it doesn't change the fact that he's still a waste."

And apparently, John didn't hate girls anymore. From a misogynist to a womanizer. How ironic.

I put my fork down, my appetite completely gone. Hannah, noticing my reticence, glanced over at me.

"Is something wrong, Terry?" she asked.

Mary and Cecil looked at me. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Gossip-mongers, the both of them.

"I'm fine," I answered, calmly rising from my chair. "I'm just not hungry."

"Where are you going?"

I picked up my tray. "I'm going to see my tutor now."

Hannah gave me a knowing smile. "Okay. I'll see you in class later."

This time, I let my eyes roll to the ceiling. Then I went to dispose my tray.

**********

"Dwayne Williams."

John lifted his head. "What?"

"Dwayne Williams," Skull repeated.

John stretched his legs in front of him and put down the PSP he had borrowed from Rohan on his lap. He and Skull were sitting on the floor in the corner with their backs against the railing of the rooftop of the Center for the Exceptionally Gifted building, or the special building as what all the students call it.

East Private School had a special program aimed to nurture talented students with high intelligence quotients. It was called the Class S program. Apart from the 5 regular classes in each grade and year, there was a special class that had its own building and special facilities. Class attendance was optional but the exams were brutal, having a high academic standard. And in this special program, only John and Leon were admitted in their year.

"Dwayne Williams from the football team?" John asked Skull. "What about him?"

Skull stared at him for a moment.

Then he asked, "Are you alright?"

As soon as Skull asked that question, Leon, who was talking to Rohan on the opposite side of the rooftop, glanced at them. John smirked and gave him a little wave. Frowning, Leon turned his attention back to the dark blond.

"What do you mean?" John retorted. "I'm perfectly fine."

"You look tense."

"Maybe because I'm in a particular difficult quest in the game?" he answered in a sarcastic tone.

Skull stared at him some more, his brows drawn together. John wasn't bothered, he knew Skull wasn't going to push it. And just as he predicted, Skull let it go.

Skull sighed long and dropped the book he held to his lap. Beside him on the concrete were more books. John almost took a picture of him when he first saw him seriously doing something related to school. It was seldom for the great brute to actually do any studying.

"I don't understand any of this s**t," Skull muttered unhappily.

John peered over. "Maybe because it's upside down?"

"Ha-ha. Very funny."

"No, seriously. It's upside down."

"I did it on purpose, you ass," Skull growled. Then he pointed at something on the page. "I wanted to ask you what these words mean."

John stared at the page for a while. "How the hell did you get into high school without knowing what enmity means?"

"Money, obviously."

John began to laugh. But when he noticed Skull scowling, he stopped, cleared his throat and rose to his feet.

"I'll let Rohan take over," he muttered.

Skull grunted, "Fine."

Biting his lip to stop himself from smiling, he went to where Rohan was. Having repeated a year, Skull was in the same year and class as Rohan. Rohan was supposed to be in the special program because although he was a snarky brat who talked back to his teachers and didn't get along with anybody, he was extremely intelligent and gifted. But he opted not to. Someone had to look out for Skull's studies and Rohan took it upon himself to do so.

Leon and Rohan stared at him as he approached. Leon, to his annoyance, turned rigid. Maybe he thought he was going to check up on him. Pushing the feeling aside, John stopped and jerked a thumb at Skull, who was now scratching his head in confusion.

"Skull needs you, Rohan," he said.

Rohan didn't look happy. "What for?"

"You know what."

"I'll take care of it," Leon interjected. "What's he studying?"

John's annoyance returned and increased.

"Literature," he said through clenched teeth.

Leon ignored his apparent anger. He nodded and went over to Skull. Rohan snickered at him. He knew why. It was because he was sporting a scowl on his face.

"Someone's avoiding you," Rohan observed.

"Whatever," John muttered, leaning his arms on the railing. "What were you talking about?"

"This and that."

John glared at him.

Rohan chuckled, "Oh, lighten up. We were just talking about games."

He sighed. "He's really avoiding me, huh?"

"Yeah. It makes me wonder why."

He didn't answer. He stared at the ground below him, at the other students who were eating and talking around the campus.

"I know something bad happened to him," Rohan mumbled. "But you won't tell me."

"I don't have the right to tell you, Rohan. Ask him. It's his past."

"But you're his best friend."

John chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, but it seems I'm the only one who still thinks that way."

"Maybe if you tell me what happened to him, I can help you."

Yeah, like that would work.

What could the brat possibly do when he himself had exhausted every remedy to make his best friend alright again? John, with his money, authority and connections, had done everything for Leon yet he still was unappreciated. If nothing he did worked, then it was impossible for Rohan to do anything.

But Rohan was earnest and looked like he really wanted to do something for Leon. John shook his head and opened his mouth, intending to divert the topic when he spotted something on the ground that made his blood heat.

Rohan saw the same thing and pointed below. "Hey, isn't that your teacher?"

A muscle on John's cheek jumped.

Yes.

Yes, it f*****g was.

His blond hair and rumpled suit was unmistakable. So was the lopsided smile on his face as he talked to the black haired girl in front of him.

John clenched his hands into fists.

He was talking to Terry.

**********

"I'm sorry about later, Ms. Evans," my tutor, Mr. Ethan Cameron, told me as he handed me the reference books. "I have an important meeting later that I couldn't miss. I completely forgot to inform you about it."

"It's not a problem, Mr. Cameron," I assured him. "Your work is far more important."

Mr. Cameron shook his head. "Tutoring you is just as important to me, Terry."

I gave him a smile.

Mr. Cameron had been my tutor since middle school. Even though I didn't need one, my father took it upon himself to hire a teacher to supervise my studies. A summa c*m laude graduate, a brilliant teacher with a rich background, he came with the highest of recommendations. Of course Dad had to hire him.

He was also handsome and young, which was why Hannah liked to tease me about him.

"Have you changed your mind about transferring into Class S?" he asked.

The smile on my lips dropped.

Mr. Cameron was one of the teachers teaching the students in the special program of East Private School. He had been trying to persuade me since freshman year to transfer but I always rejected the offer. In truth, I would have wanted to be in Class S because it would look good on my record.

But John was there.

"No, sir. I'm sorry," I replied with a shake of my head. "I like being in the regular class."

Mr. Cameron sighed. "That's a shame. I would have loved to have you there."

I would have too.

He was an excellent teacher.

The bell rang. Mr. Cameron gave me one of his handsome grins again and started to walk backwards.

"I'll see you next week then, Ms. Evans."

"Yes, sir," I replied with a chuckle.

Giving me a little salute, he turned around and headed towards the special building. The smile still on my lips, I turned and started for my classroom. For some reason, I was strangely compelled to look at the rooftop. My feet halted when my eyes focused on the lone figure leaning against the railing.

Even from the distance, I saw it was John.

And even from the distance, I saw that he was angry.

Squaring my shoulders, I yanked my gaze from him and entered the building. I wasn't going to let him get under my skin again. Showing vulnerability was what I hated doing the most. He was not worth a glance, not worth one single thought.

I've decided.

Everytime my thoughts strayed to him I'll recite all the chemical elements in my head by atomic number. If that wouldn't work, I'll multiply numbers by pi instead until I get him out of my mind.

***********

John sat on his chair, his boots on top of the desk in front of him. Leon was slouched on his seat next to him, staring out of the window.

Usually, he'd be badgering his best friend, trying to engage him in a conversation but he was in no mood to be pleasantly annoying today. There was a foreign but familiar feeling invading his chest that no matter how much breathing exercise he'd done, it wouldn't go away. Simmering in his chair, he tried to calm down. But the burn in his chest was adamant to stay.

"It's nice to see that you still remember to come to school, Mr. Steele, Mr. Gage," the teacher said as soon as he entered the classroom. "Shoes off the desk, please. Thank you."

John narrowed his eyes at him as he put his boots down.

Didn't he seem a little... cheerful?

The burn, which he had finally managed to ebb slow, re-ignited.

"Here," the teacher went on, placing a pile of paper on each of their desks. "These are the things you've missed. These are the things you have to study for. And these are the things that will be on your tests next Friday."

"Seems a little high," John commented, tapping the top of the pile.

"Then don't be absent for two weeks next time."

Leon, on his part, barely glanced at the pile or the teacher. He just kept staring out the window.

"I've also put the homework you need to submit by the end of the week." The teacher went to his table and picked up a marker. "If you have questions, you know where to find me."

John raised his hand. "I have a question, Ethan."

The teacher, Ethan Cameron, glared at him and pulled in a deep breath. "It's Mr. Cameron to you," he growled. "Or you can call me sir."

Like hell, he would.

He'd rather swallow a handful of tacks than call this bastard sir.

"Yeah, whatever, teach," John said with a shrug.

"Your question?" he snapped.

"Are you a pedophile?"

Ethan blinked. "Excuse me?"

"No, wait. That term's wrong," John murmured, rubbing his eyebrow piercing. "It's ephebophilia when it's 15 to 19, right?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about high school girls, teach. Are you or are you not into high school girls?" John sat back against his chair and smirked. "And don't think I didn't catch you swear. You know students can evaluate their teachers, right?"

Ethan looked like he wanted to hit him. His mouth was tight, his eyes blazing with fury and it only served to amuse John more. In an effort to control his temper, Ethan took a deep breath and sat at the edge of his desk.

"I don't know what you're on today, Mr. Steele. But I have no intention of being in a relationship with a high school girl nor am I attracted to them. Do I make myself clear?"

John's lips twitched. He lifted his chin once and said, "Crystal."

Ethan glared at him some more. Then he took another breath, straightened and turned to write something on the board.

"But let's say you're attracted to one," John piped up. "Are you going to wait after she graduated or are you—?"

A loud bang echoed around the classroom. The teacher had slammed his marker hard on the tray. Turning around, he skewered John with a black look that could make a lesser man cower in fear.

John was unperturbed. He merely grinned.

But it seemed Leon, like their two-faced teacher, had enough.

"Get out, John."

John turned to look at him. He was scowling, no longer listless.

"What did I do?" he chuckled.

Leon's eyes narrowed into grey slits. "You're pissed. Don't take it out on the teacher. He's just doing his job."

"Since when did you start caring about him?" he asked in disbelief.

"Just go and cool your head."

John's jaw went tight. He and Leon had a staring contest for what felt like ages. But in the end, he had to give up because he was a f*****g doormat when it came to his best friend.

"Whatever," he spat as he rose to his feet. "Enjoy learning from him."

Without giving the teacher a glance, he left the classroom, fuming.

He clenched and unclenched his hands as he walked through the hallway. It was fortunate that the halls were empty as he passed because if someone crossed him, he didn't know what he'd do. When he remembered the teacher, he nearly backtracked. Hell, but the urge to pummel his f*****g face in was hard to withstand.

John saw his face reflected on the window and he stopped. It actually gave him pause, seeing the terrible anger on his face. Closing his eyes shut, he breathed in and out, trying to relax, trying to curb his anger.

You're no longer a child, John, he told himself.

No longer a child who always got what he wanted.

Damn but it was annoying. Not getting what he wanted.

"Hey, John."

His eyes flew open.

A familiar looking girl was walking pass him, greeting him with a sweet, seductive smile on her face. John turned his head when he lost sight of her. She had stopped walking and was looking at him. Caught, she didn't flush nor look away. She just stood there, in perfect posture, staring at him through her lashes, a coy smile playing on her lips.

Then she winked and began to move away.

His eyes trailed down her body as she walked. She was wearing a snug-fitting, thin white turtleneck and a matching body-hugging skirt that ended just above her knees and clung to her generous ass. She had full breasts, a tiny waist and long legs. Very long legs.

John remembered who she was then.

She was the daughter of one of his father's acquaintances. And she had been trying to get him to notice her since they were children.

Coy, his ass.

She was nothing but a wolf in sheep's clothing.

John smirked.

But she would do.

He went after her and caught her wrist. The girl blinked at him in surprise, but seeing who it was holding her, her lips spread into a wide smile. Without a word, he led her to an empty room and closed the door behind them.

"John, why are we here?" she had the gall to ask, not dropping the innocent act.

He smirked and shuffled her back until she hit the wall. He closed in, pinning her and whispered, "To f**k, why else?"

Her lips parted and she slid her arms around his neck.

"Of course," she purred.

Terry's face flashed into his mind and for a moment, he was actually distraught that this wasn't her in his arms. That this wasn't her face smiling up at him. That this wasn't her holding him close.

Then the girl touched him over his jeans and dropped to her knees.

And the feeling immediately disappeared.