All Chapters of The Bad Boy's First Love: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Lyric’s P.O.V“Crimes in schools?” I asked my classmate, George as he vigorously nodded his head.“Yes.” George said nervously. “That’s what all of us got. The Professor said to be creative and think outside the box.”In preparation for the match and healing my wounds, I had missed out on school and thus, I’d failed to get my assignment for the month. Thankfully, little nerdy boy George was my backup plan and he was always scared shitless of me to ever complain about anything I asked him to do.And honestly, that’s all I did, just ask him if he could pick up my assignment for me. I’d never threatened or touched him in my entire life but I guess my reputation precedes me here as well. But it was a blessing in disguise if I ever missed school because I was too beat up after a match to go through all the hustle of collecting my assignments from the Professors themselves becaus

Lydia’s P.O.VAfter Lyric had left me standing in that empty lab, I had simply discarded the papers in the trash and walked away from college. It had gotten too stressful to stay at that point and I was afraid of getting another migraine.I had however, informed the authorities before leaving school because they were aware of my condition and they had given me a wider time span for finishing my course than any other college was willing to offer. It was one of the reasons for choosing Rosewater University and that it was closest to home.Surprisingly, I didn’t get any further disturbance from Lyric the whole day. No snide comments, no fights, no showing up at my apartment unannounced…nothing at all. I hadn’t even gotten a single glimpse of him ever since he just up and left me in the lab, which frankly I should be grateful for but I wasn’t. I was feeling anxious and restless and I hadn’t gotten any sleep the e

Lydia’s P.O.VI watched Lyric’s face harden immediately as George told Avery’s name. I felt an unexpected pang in my chest at the look of concern on his face. Whoever this Avery was, she was special to both these men.“Please help me!” George begged, falling back on his hands and knees. “I don’t know what to do! I don’t know where to find her!”“You need to calm down first, George.” Lyric’s voice was sharp and stern but it was very much necessary. “If you continue to keep on panicking, we won’t get anywhere. So calm the fuck down before you pass out.”Crouching down beside George, I placed my hand on his shoulder to try and calm him with the physical touch. “Lyric’s right, George. Take a deep breath and calm down first. And then tell us what happened.”George did as I said and took a few deep breaths, placing his hands on the

Lydia’s P.O.VThe restaurant was almost empty at ten thirty in the night, but the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. Spring was giving way to summer and soon enough, the little chill still hanging in the air would be all but gone, giving way to patchy summer nights.“Lyric, my boy!” And elderly man came out from behind the counter and engulfed Lyric in a hug before he turned his eyes on me. “I see you brought a friend!”The man had short grey hair with a few strands of black thrown in the mix, from what I could decipher from under his baseball cap. He wore a red shirt and grey pants with a white apron on top that now contained numerous stains from all the food he must have served his customers throughout the day. His face and hands were covered in wrinkles and he was sprouting an enormous beer gut and if I had to guess, I’d say he was in his mid sixties to early seventies.“Matt, this is Lydia,&rd

Lyric’s P.O.V“I fucked up, didn’t I?” I asked George during lunch hour as we sat outside in the courtyard, under the shade of some fancy tree that had peach colored flowers blooming everywhere.Normally, I would’ve preferred to have my lunch at the nearest Subway or Starbucks, but George had brought homemade lunch today and he insisted that I share his. Maybe it was his way of saying thank you for saving Avery, but we both knew Lydia was the one who had done the actual saving part.“Is this about Miss Lydia?” George asked, putting a spoonful of pasta into his mouth.“Stop calling her Miss like she’s the President’s daughter or something.” I frowned at George. “She’s the same age as me.”“Yes, but-”“Never mind.” I shook my head. “Yes, it’s about Lydia and I’m getting in way over my head. Just forget