The Bad Boy Is My Best Friend

Asteria Goldburn realized her uniform didn’t fit when she couldn’t pull the zipper all the way up the morning of the first day of senior year.

She stood in front of her full-length mirror, finger hooked around the stubborn metal tab at the back of her skirt, willing it to climb up and stay up so that she wouldn’t be any later than she was for school. Eventually, after a couple more minutes of twisting around and on the verge of bursting into tears, she was finally able to get the zip to stay where it belonged.

That however, didn’t solve all of her problems.

Every year, Blackwell Academy sent out measurement forms before the summer so that students could get new uniforms for the upcoming school year. And every year, Asteria had filled them out without much thought. She had mostly stayed the same size for as long as she could remember so it had all been a matter of copy-and-pasting her measurements.

Except this summer, apparently, her body had finally decided to catch up. Puberty had decided to show up fashionably late and then overcompensate. It also didn’t help that because her two closest friends hadn’t been in the country for most of the summer, she had spent most of her days lounging indoors.

So now the skirt felt shorter, tighter, and far more attention-grabbing than she liked.

She left the top button of the uniform’s blouse undone for breathing room, smoothed her blonde bangs carefully over the jagged scar at her hairline, and slipped on her usual black flats.

The skirt still rode up when she moved. She tugged it down again, cheeks warming at the thought of walking the halls like this. Everyone would notice.

At Blackwell, they always noticed everything.

She briefly considered diving into her wardrobe to check whether she would fare better with the pants when her phone dinged from her vanity.

Oliver: I’m outside. Don’t make me come up and drag you. Traffic on 5th is already a nightmare.

With that, she stuffed her phone into her bag and dashed out of her room. There was no need to stop to say goodbye to anyone. There was no one at home for her to greet.

Then she took the elevator down.

Outside, Oliver Maddox’s sleek black Range Rover idled at the curb.

He was sitting in the driver’s side, scrolling on his phone. Tall, broad-shouldered, and sun-kissed from his summer in Italy, he looked every bit the golden retriever jock in his tailored Blackwell blazer and khaki pants.

She slid into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind her.

Oliver took one look at her and paused. “There’s something different about you.” He said without a word of greeting.

Asteria knew exactly what was different about her but she didn’t want to get into that. “No there isn’t.” She said too quickly.

For a while, he seemed to believe her. He shrugged and started driving. “Wait.” He said, suddenly turning to look at her again. “Are you wearing a padded bra?”

“Shut up.”

He didn’t. “Are you trying to impress a certain someone?” He asked waggling his brows.

“Focus on the road.”

“I am focusing on the road.” He insisted. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

She exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.”

Asteria looked out the window, then back at him.

“It’s not padded. I just…” She gestured vaguely downward. “I grew.”

Oliver stared at her for a second.

Then he snorted. “You mean you finally filled out?” He said, already grinning. “Congratulations, by the way. I thought you were going to look like a plank forever.”

Asteria turned fully in her seat. “I’d hit you, but you’re driving.” She said flatly.

He laughed. “Violence already? It’s not even eight.”

Asteria crossed her arms, staring ahead. There was a brief silence before she spoke again. “Where’s Dami? Weren’t you two supposed to fly back together from Europe?”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but he missed his flight. Said he was out partying with some old mates the night before. But he texted that he’ll make it to school today. He’ll swing straight in from the airport.”

Asteria leaned her head against the window, watching the blur of yellow taxis and towering buildings. “He’ll be hungover and jet-lagged.”

“What else is new?” Oliver laughed. “Man’s allergic to schedules. But hey, it’s senior year. We’re finally at the top. Football season starts soon, parties, college apps… the whole deal. I have a good feeling about our final year: it’s going to be easy, breezy, and drama-free.”

Asteria mumbled something in agreement but it was mostly half-hearted. Oliver’s intuition was very wrong. There was no such thing as drama-free when teenagers were involved; especially the kind that were enrolled at Blackwell. And besides, with the secret that she carried with her for most of the summer, their final year would definitely not be drama-free.

“Hey don’t look so worried about Damian.” Oliver said sparing her a small smile. “He’s a big boy. He can handle himself.”

Asteria shrugged in response and turned to stare at the passing streets.

Oliver wouldn’t get it. It was Damian that she needed to talk to.

This secret was tearing her apart.

* * * * *

The drive to Blackwell Academy took them through familiar streets lined with brownstones and luxury boutiques. The school itself was an imposing Gothic-style building with ivy climbing the stone walls. Blackwell Academy had a reputation for academic excellence, marred only by the unsavory behavior of some of its students. But it was all nothing their wealthy parents couldn’t get them out of.

Oliver pulled into the student parking lot, killed the engine, and they both stepped out of the car. But before they could even make it up the steps of the school, they were flanked.

Paige Turner appeared like a red-headed whirlwind. She had a camera in her hand, a sharp smile on her face, and a nervous sophomore trailing behind with a small camera rig.

Paige had undergone what was probably the most dramatic glow-up in the history of glow-ups. In middle school, she had been drab, pimply, and entirely overlooked. But at the beginning of freshman year, she’d blossomed into the vicious but stunning girl she was now. But despite the glow-up and her rise in the social ladder, Paige remained very close with Misty O’Neil, who had been her best friend since forever.

While Paige had essentially evolved, Misty had remained the more or less the same. Next to Paige, Misty always looked even drabber than she really was. It was almost like she existed like a faded background character in her own life. But despite their physical differences, they remained best friends.

Paige ran the school’s official blog, The Blackwell Bulletin. And she also ran the school’s unofficial – and more covert – blog, The Blackwell Insider.

She was also, one of Damian’s many ex-girlfriends.

Paige took position in front of Oliver and Asteria, preventing them from entering the building. “And continuing with the interviews of Blackwell’s Academy’s most recent class of seniors, we have the school’s most popular trio.” She said brightly into the camera.

“Dami isn’t here yet.” Asteria said. “So technically, we’re not a complete trio yet.”

Paige kept on smiling and facing the camera without missing a beat. “I noticed. I was getting to that. Don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking Asteria.” She said out of the corner of her mouth.

“Sorry.” Asteria said meekly.

Paige didn’t acknowledge the apology. Instead, she made eye contact with the sophomore holding the camera rig. “Edit that part out in post.” Then back to the camera with her flawless energy. “And continuing with the interviews of Blackwell’s Academy’s most recent class of seniors, we have the school’s most popular trio. But wait. Where’s our resident bad boy? Has the British bad boy finally been tamed, or should we expect chaos and disruption from day one?”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Really, Paige? Damian’s not that wild.”

Paige arched a perfectly groomed brow. “Let’s be real here: he’s barely domesticated. I know it. You know it. The whole school knows it.” She said. “Last year he got suspended after that fight in the parking lot and don’t even get me started on that rooftop incident. He’s like a walking headline.”

Before Oliver could form a retort, a car pulled up into the driveway and Misty stepped out of the passenger’s seat. “We’ll continue this later.” And with that, she was off, bounding towards her best friend who was equally as excited to see her.

“Well, that was intense.” Asteria murmured.

“It’s Paige.” Oliver shrugged. “She’s always intense.”

The two of them finally made it into the school building. All around them, the hallways bubbled with first-day activities: lockers slammed, schedules were compared and summer stories were swapped.

“Good morning Blackwell Academy and welcome to a new academic year.” Principal Thompson said through the intercom. “I hope you all had a great break and are ready for the new school year. Your student council has asked me to inform you that prom preparations have officially begun. You’ll see posters around the school with QR codes. Please take a moment to scan them and fill out the forms. Your input will help shape everything from themes to activities, so make sure your voice is heard.

“Let’s make it a great year. Enjoy your first day. Go Wolves.”

The intercom clicked off, and a chorus of scattered howls echoed through the halls.