Being the Bad Boy's Victim

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DISCLAIMER

This book is a work of FICTION and should not to be confused, in any way, with reality. Neither the author nor the publisher or its associates assume any responsibility for any loss, injury, death or legal consequences resulting from acting on the contents in this book. The author’s opinions are not to be construed as the opinions of the publisher. The material in this book is for entertainment purposes ONLY. Enjoy.

Being the

Bad Boy’s Victim

By: Claire Monette

ISBN: 978-1-68030-374-2

©
Claire Monette
2015

I would like to dedicate this story to every person who has supported me, especially my followers on Wattpad.

Thank you so much. I love you all!

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Bella

Don’t cry, Bella
, I chanted in my head as my aunt started the car, taking me farther and farther away from my home. Well, not exactly my home. It was her house, but I had been living there for two years—and it was home to me.

“Pumpkin, it’s going to be okay,” Aunt Evie said, looking at me from the corner of her eye.

I quickly nodded, lowering my head to create a protective wall between us with my hair. The thing is, I knew this wasn’t going to be okay. First of all, I never wanted to leave England, but I did. That was two years ago.

Don’t cry, Bella
, I chanted again.

That year I first came to America, the kids were awful. With my frizzy hair and foreign accent, I was an easy target for bullies. And it didn’t help much that my name, coincidentally, was the same as that nasty witch in Harry Potter, something that every person who met me certainly loved to point out.

After only being in America for a couple of months, I was able to convince my parents to let me move back and live with my Aunt Evie in England. Everything was going so well until, that is, I got a call from my parents insisting that I come back to America for my senior year.

My mum claimed that it was because she was ill, but I overheard her on the telephone saying that my whole family missed me. So? Why couldn’t they just visit?

I knew it seemed harsh. But I just didn’t want to go through the bullying again. I used to be one of those girls who kept quiet and never spoke her mind. But after returning to England, my self-esteem finally rose back up, as did my confidence. I wasn’t willing to have it all broken again.

“Pumpkin?”

“Yes?”

“Like I was saying, everything is going to be okay. You’ve changed and matured so much. What happened to you, it’s not going to happen again, I promise.” 

Oh, Evie, if only you knew that was the least of my worries. Last time I was in America, I felt as if I was never going to fit in, and my fellow students made sure of that. Now I have no choice but to just suck it up and make it through my senior year.

“We’re here, honey,” Aunt Evie announced.

I looked up in surprise. I had been so distracted while thinking, I didn't even notice that the car had stopped. Looking at the large airport in front of me, I sighed and got out of the car. With each step I took, my feet dragged more and more.

“Listen, pumpkin, I know you don’t want to go. But you must. Please understand this,” she pleaded, helping me empty the trunk.

As we were walking inside, I could feel the tears pricking the corners of my eyes. But I refused to cry. Not yet, anyway.

After two hours of going through security and dealing with a series of paperwork, I found myself staring down the gateway. I took a few deep breaths, slowly exhaling, which was something I’ve always done to calm myself down.

“Bye, Aunt Evie,” I whispered, avoiding her eyes.

She gave me a long, comforting hug as she said, “Only for a year, pumpkin. Only for a year.”

I pulled away, giving her a weak smile, and walked through the gateway.

“Only for a year.” Her words kept repeating in my head.

Maybe I can do this.

Seven and a half hours later

I was gently woken up by a friendly flight attendant. “Honey, the plane has landed,” she said, her voice so soft.

I nodded, showing her that I understood. Then, I unbuckled myself before standing up. After five minutes of stretching, I opened the overhead compartment, pulling out my suitcase and backpack. After ten more minutes, I was finally able to file out of the plane and through the gate.

Thirty minutes later

“Bellatrix!”

Oh, God! I blushed as my mum ran towards me, throwing her little body onto me.

“Hullo, mum,” I murmured, shifting uncomfortably under all the stares of the other people in the airport.

“Hiya, pumpkin!” my dad called out cheerfully from where he stood with my little brother and sister.

My blush grew deeper as I made my way over to my dad.

“Hi, Dad,” I mumbled, giving him a short hug before moving on to my two younger siblings.

“Hullo, Sophie. Hullo, Luca,” I smiled at them.

“Bellaby!” they shouted, pouncing on me at the same time.

Oh yeah, my younger siblings call me Bellaby. I know. The nicknames, they just kept getting worse.
I mean, honestly, Bellaby and Pumpkin? Really?

Three hours later

I collapsed on my bed, exhaustion taking over.

“Bellaby?”

I sighed, “Yes, Luca?”

“Did you miss me?”

That made me sit upright. “Of course I missed you!”

He looked so sad, standing in the doorway. “Then why didn’t you want to come back to us?”

I was immediately filled with guilt as I saw the hurt evident on his face. I stood up and crouched next to him.

“Luca, I could never not want to be with my family. It’s just…” I paused, trying to find the right words, “I love London.”

He nodded a little and then muttered, “So you don’t hate us. You just hate America.”

“Hate’s a strong word. It’s more like… I extremely dislike America.”

“Good,” Luca stated, giving me a cute little hug before walking away.

I yawned and collapsed on my bed, closing my eyes.

“Pumpkin?”

I groaned and opened my eyes again.

“Remember, you have school tomorrow.”

I let out a scream of frustration.

God, I hate America!

“Bellatrix! Wake up now!” my mum hollered at me.

My eyes flew open and I groggily stood, glancing at the clock on my nightstand. Seven-thirty. Wait. Doesn’t school start at seven fifty?

I let out a high-pitched shriek and ran to my closet where I threw on a navy blue romper and slipped on my white sandals. I sprinted towards the bathroom and tamed my unruly hair, but completely ditched makeup.

“Mum, can you drive me?” I called out while brushing my teeth.

“Sure, pumpkin.”

Fifteen minutes later

We pulled into the school parking lot and found a spot right near the entrance. Despite my constant deep breathing technique, my heart was pounding and my hands were sweating.

“Ready, pumpkin?”

I didn’t answer, and just exited the car, making my way through the entrance and into the lobby. I knew I was being mean and all, but the nerves took over, and they could be a real bitch.

“Urm, hullo,” I greeted the receptionist.

Her eyes lit up once she saw me. “And who are you?”

“Bellatrix Brown. I’m the new student,” I said shakily.

She gave me a warm smile before opening up a file cabinet, taking out a folder with my last name written on it.

“Here ya go, sweetie,” she said. “A map of the school can be found in there, along with your schedule.

I smiled nervously back at her and took the folder, heading out to what must have been the main corridor. I meant hallway. Once in the hallway, I opened the folder and looked at my schedule.

Schedule for Bellatrix Brown:

Period 1: AP English (Rm.207)

Period 2: AP U.S. History (Rm. 204)

Period 3: Spanish 4 (Rm. 209)

Period 4: AP Chemistry (Rm. 301)

Period 5: Gym

Lunch

Period 6: AP Psychology (Rm. 305)

Period 7: AP Biology (Rm 303)

Period 8: Study Hall (Rm. 206)

Yeah, I guess you could call me a nerd. But this school offered a lot, and I had to take advantage of that.

Okay. AP English first, room 207. I pulled out my map and saw that I had to walk to the end of the hallway, take a right, and the room on my left would be it.

Hmmm… seemed easy enough.

Ten minutes later

Stupid map!

The whole thing was screwed up, which forced me to look for the room by myself, because unfortunately, I was the only one left in the hallway.

I took a couple more deep breaths before entering the room. The teacher stopped mid-sentence and turned to glare at me. I offered a small smile in apology for my intrusion, but his stony gaze refused to soften.

“Ahhh, you must be Bellatrix,” he stated, leaning back on his desk.

I flinched at the sound of my awful name.

“Um, you can call me Bella,” I murmured, staring at the floor.

Whispers filled the room, and that sensation of being the awkward one threatened to overwhelm me.
Great, just great!

“Well, Bella, would you like to introduce yourself?” the teacher asked.

I looked at the rest of the class, embarrassed how all eyes were on me.
Come on, Bella, pull yourself together.

“Hullo, my name is Bellatrix Brown, but I prefer to be called Bella…” Before I could finish, a hand shot up in the air.

“Er… yes?” I asked, looking at the strange boy.

“You have an accent.”

Ding, ding, ding! And the “most perceptive” award goes to… the weird blond boy in the front row!

“Yes… I’m aware,” I said

“Are you like… British?” some platinum blonde asked.

“Yes,” I said.

Someone, kill me now!

“Hey! You have the same name as that witch in Harry Potter!” a ginger screamed at me.

“Hey! You look like Ron Weasley!” I shouted back at him.

This caused the class to erupt in laughter, and the ginger grinned back at me, laughing along with everyone else.

“Here you go, Bella,” the teacher said, handing me a small stack of books.

I took them from him and headed to the empty seat in the back. As soon as I sat down, everyone stopped laughing and the whispering began again. The guy next to me kept sending me worried glances, which I ignored as I stacked my books on my desk and opened my backpack to grab a pen.

Suddenly, the door swung open forcefully and all the whispering stopped.
How clichéd
, I thought. But then, in walked the most gorgeous guy in the world, I joked to myself.

Well, hello there!

Yes, in walked the most gorgeous guy I had ever seen. My heart skipped a beat as he made his way towards me, his dark eyes fixed on me, causing my face to feel warm and grow an unflattering shade of red.

“Out of my seat, slut.”

My heart stopped pounding as shock washed over me.

“Excuse me?” I asked, coldness creeping into my tone.

He raised his eyebrows at me, surprised that I had actually responded instead of running away.