A Bad Boy Can Be Good for a Girl Read online

  that boy would rather be

  than with

  you.

  That’s the power.

  When you’re the only thing that matters,

  the world could come to an end

  but the both of you would still be in that happy,

  drunk but not drunk,

  it should be illegal for a body to feel this good

  state of mind.

  OF COURSE,

  you won’t have any power

  if people think you’re a slut.

  And if you’re a girl,

  and you like to fool around,

  you can get a bad rep, fast.

  To mess with the rules of the game

  you have to know what they are.

  That’s why I usually hang

  with guys

  from other schools.

  GOOD ENOUGH

  But there’s this one guy

  at my school

  I think I’ll check out.

  This girl named Josie is going around telling everybody

  he’s no good.

  Wanted me to read all about him

  in the back of some old library book.

  I tell you what, though,

  I think she’s just a goody-goody.

  I have seen this guy and he looks pretty good to me.

  I mean REAL good.

  Finger- lickin’ good.

  She probably just didn’t know how to take care of him.

  I’ve got his number,

  and he’s about to get mine.

  HEY

  I walk straight over to him

  as he’s digging for stuff in his locker.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “Nicolette, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Aren’t you the girl who used to hang with

  Tyler Jones sophomore year?”

  For a second I worry how he heard

  about me hooking up

  with a guy from another school.

  But I figure a little mystery can be used to my

  advantage.

  I fiddle with my top button and give a little sexy smile

  like I’m remembering some steamy memory of

  me and Tyler.

  “Yeaahhh, that’s me.”

  “How’s junior year treating you so far?”

  “Can’t complain,” I say.

  “You and Josie split, huh?” I say.

  “You heard about that?”

  “Kind of. She told me to stay away from you.”

  “But here you are,” he says.

  “Here I am.”

  He smiles.

  I smile back.

  “Wanna grab a burger at Paul’s later?” he says.

  “Okay.”

  And that’s

  how it’s done.

  BURGER AND SHAKE

  “Can I get some fries with that shake?”

  He laughs at me with that sexy laugh

  as I slink on over to his car with our burgers in a bag.

  “So what all happened with you and Josie, anyway?”

  “Ah, she’s just a kid. No hard feelings,” he says.

  “She’s not like you, Nic. I’ve got a feeling you’re

  all woman.”

  He takes that burger right out of my hand and slides

  his tongue right in my mouth.

  He’s kissing me so good

  I’m hoping he doesn’t try much else

  because sometimes

  to make things go

  the way you want

  you need to know when

  to take it

  slow.

  FINE

  Dad’s been gone since

  I was five,

  but we’re fine,

  Mom and me.

  We look out for each other.

  Sure, she spends a lot of time

  on the dating scene, but that has its perks.

  I have the freedom I need,

  access to tons of hot clothes—

  we’re about the same size, and she’s got good taste.

  Some people say she dresses too young for her age,

  but she’s got a great body and she’s proud of it.

  Why shouldn’t she be?

  She taught me to be proud too.

  Powerful and proud,

  that’s how Mom says a woman’s got to be

  to get what she wants

  out of this world.

  NICOLETTE

  I’ve always liked my name.

  It’s different and kind of sexy.

  But it’s never sounded half as sexy

  as when it’s his voice

  saying it over and over and over and over

  right in my ear

  as his fingers tangle through

  my thick blond hair

  and his hands travel around

  my back

  my neck

  my belly

  my boobs.

  Nicolette. Ohh, Nicolette.

  Nicolette, you’re so soft.

  Nicolette, you feel so good.

  Nicolette.

  AFTER PRACTICE

  I’m waiting for him

  like he asked,

  which I’m sort of kicking myself for.

  I should be making him wait for me,

  not the other way around.

  But here he comes

  running off the field

  over to me.

  He’s got my full attention.

  Can’t seem to help myself.

  “Hey, you,” he says.

  “Hey.”

  “You look great,” he adds.

  My “thanks”

  cut off

  by his mouth on mine.

  Overpowered

  by the force of his kiss

  bulk of his uniform

  smell of his sweat.

  Hands everywhere.

  Then,

  “Thanks, babe,

  gotta get home for dinner!”

  and he sprints toward the gym

  before

  I can

  say

  anything,

  like,

  “Hey,

  I thought we had

  plans!”

  RED LIGHT

  There’s an old art supply closet at the end of

  Yellow Hall.

  I never knew it was there until he showed it to me

  the other day.

  It’s got this red lightbulb in the ceiling because it used

  to be a darkroom or something.

  He says it’s our very own red-light district,

  whatever that means.

  I like that we have a place all our own.

  He put a piece of dark tape over the outside switch,

  that way nobody can tell when the red light’s lit.

  None of the teachers or janitors seem to notice, or care.

  There are shelves with leftover art supplies,

  like paint and brushes.

  It smells good in there,

  like potential,

  like anything

  is just waiting to be made

  into something.

  GREEN LIGHT

  Here he comes, looking right at me with that grin.

  But he doesn’t say anything, just shoves

  a note in my hand and

  brushes on past.

  “Isn’t that the girl you were telling us about?”

  one of his friends says.

  I hear him say, “Yeah, that’s her,”

  and I’m caught off guard by my insides jumping

  at the thought of him

  talking to his friends about me.

  Could he really like me,

  for real?

  And could I

  really like him,

  too?

  I open my palm.

  RLD: 10:15

  At 10:10, I change to Green and GO.

  THE
CLOSET

  I open the door and slip inside,

  he’s not here yet, oh great,

  I wish I hadn’t gotten here first.

  Too late.

  Here he is.

  “How much time do you have?”

  “Only a few minutes, I’ve gotta get to my next class,”

  I say.

  “Well, I’ve gotta get to you.

  I’ve been thinking about you all morning,” he says.

  My body’s pulsing and my cheeks are probably flushing,

  I’m glad our red light is hiding that.

  “C’mere.”

  He holds me against him and kisses me,

  Omigod I love how he kisses me,

  a little bit forceful but gentle at the same time.

  Each kiss

  hotter and wetter

  our bodies pressing closer and closer

  his jeans stretched tight against his hard-on.

  I’m getting that tingle down low

  my body wanting him more and more and more

  my head trying to keep it together.

  Just as I’m finding the strength to stop,

  he reaches down to my pants

  spreads his palm open

  presses his fingers against me.

  “Nic, you’re so . . .”

  his words crumble into a moan.

  Now I’m needing him

  but I still don’t want him to feel

  how much.

  Too late.

  His hand disappears into my pants.

  I’m so hot for him,

  too hot, really.

  I can feel my

  I say who and

  I say what

  slipping.

  Who’s got the power now?

  Is it still me?

  My chest feels warm

  almost

  burning.

  It’s me,

  losing

  control.

  Losing

  my

  cool.

  The bell rings.

  He whips his hand out,

  looks me dead in the eye and says,

  “Gonna be late for English. Catch ya later, Nic.”

  And he leaves.

  Just like that.

  And now, I’m gonna be late too.

  I straighten my clothes,

  take a deep breath,

  and get my ass to class.

  WE HAD

  the same lunch period today.

  I thought it might be nice to sit with him,

  but when I looked for a seat

  there was no room anywhere at his table

  and he never caught my eye.

  I don’t know how he didn’t see me,

  I walked pretty near his table.

  I thought it was obvious I was looking for a seat,

  but I guess he didn’t see me.

  POWER OUTAGE

  It’s been two days since those mind-blowing minutes

  in our closet.

  In bed at night

  my hands retrace

  every move his hands

  made.

  Why hasn’t he called me,

  or found me in school to say something— anything?

  Is he trying to make me crazy?

  I can’t believe it,

  but for once, I actually want a guy

  to pay more attention to me,

  take me out,

  show me off,

  meet his friends,

  even some of the girls,

  since most of the ones at P.B.H.

  don’t give me the time of day.

  I think they think I’m a threat or something,

  even though I hardly ever go after their guys.

  I wouldn’t mind him

  treating me like his

  girlfriend.

  I don’t think I’m playing

  anymore.

  It never occurred to me I couldn’t change

  the way things are

  whenever I wanted to.

  I mean, I’ve always

  been the one

  calling the shots.

  I saw him a few times in the halls

  and he winked at me,

  but we never seem to get a chance to talk.

  I was starting to wonder if I was imagining

  what was happening

  between us

  when his car pulls up next to me

  about a block from school

  and he asks if I want a ride home.

  I let my breath out.

  I didn’t even realize I was holding it.

  I climb in and flash my sexiest smile.

  “How are you? I’ve been missing you,”

  trying to sound casual,

  but wishing right away I could take it back.

  “Oh yeah?” he says.

  He looks at me.

  “Me too.

  There’s something special about you, Nic,” he adds.

  Mmmmmm.

  THE LONG WAY HOME

  “I know a place where we can stop

  on the way home,” he says.

  “Okay, and then we can study together at my house.”

  “Okay.”

  We pull onto Fowler Field and he stops the car.

  “Let’s go for a walk.”

  We walk toward the baseball diamond,

  then right into the empty dugout.

  “What’s here?”

  “Us,” he says.

  We sit on the bench.

  “You know I really like you, right?” he says.

  What I’m thinking is,

  Thank God he said it first.

  What I say is,

  “Sure, I get that.”

  “So, will you do something for me?”

  He starts unzipping his jeans.

  “I promise to return the favor,” he says.

  And there he is, in broad daylight,

  standing right in front of me

  jeans around his ankles.

  Guys.

  Not a bashful bone in their bodies.

  Why can’t we be like that?

  “I think we’re going too fast,

  I mean, we haven’t even gone out on a date yet,”

  I hear myself say.

  (I can’t remember the last time I used the word date.)

  “We will, Nic, I promise. But we’re here now,

  and I’m dying for you. Please, baby.”

  I put my mouth on him

  and he groans,

  making me want

  to please him

  even more.

  I know how

  to take him

  over

  the

  edge.

  “Now it’s your turn,” he says.

  Most guys don’t think about what the girl’s getting,

  they’re just out for themselves.

  He pulls me to my feet and turns me around

  so he’s standing in back of me.

  “C’mere.”

  It’s chilly enough to see our breath.

  I should be

  shivering

  but he’s wrapped himself around me

  strong body

  and hands

  warming me all over.

  He turns me around again so I’m facing him,

  unzips my pants

  eases them down over my hips

  and kisses me,

  gently guiding me back down

  to the bench.

  Then his mouth leaves mine.

  The back of me

  stings

  from the cold dugout against my skin,

  the front of me

  steams

  from his touch.

  I’m

  buzzing.

  My eyes are open

  but things

  aren’t

  quite

  in

  focus.

  His hair so soft through my fingers,

 
I close my eyes and my head falls back

  against the wall.

  My heart

  might actually pound

  right out of my chest.

  I couldn’t move myself from this spot

  if the dugout caught fire.

  On the way home,

  head on his shoulder, his

  “you’re the best”

  whispers down

  reaching a spot

  in my soul.

  I didn’t realize until later that night

  that he never came in to study

  when he dropped me off.

  FAVOR

  Phone rings.

  It’s him.

  “Do me a favor?”

  “Another one?”

  He laughs.

  “Wear a skirt tomorrow.”

  “Why?”

  “ ’Cause.”

  “ ’Cause why?”

  “You’ll see.”

  I couldn’t help it.

  I thought about him

  all night.

  SECOND THOUGHTS

  When I find the note on my locker:

  RLD: Study Hall

  I have second thoughts.

  He had to have seen me in the cafeteria

  this time.

  Either that, or he’s blind

  or he doesn’t think I’ll like his friends,

  or that they’ll like me.

  I decide to go

  just so I can find out

  what his deal is.

  He’s waiting for me when I get there.

  He looks at my clothes and grins.

  “I just happened to want to wear a skirt today.”

  “And what a lovely skirt it is.”

  “How come you didn’t invite me over at lunch?”