All Chapters of Tempting The Bad Boy: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

AndyI stared up at my bedroom ceiling, following a crack that had formed in the corner. It had been there for years, a souvenir from the earthquake that shook Claremont when I was only 9. The crack never bothered me before, but now, the longer I studied it, the more my mind convinced me that it would become an issue, that it was growing bigger before my eyes and that the ceiling would collapse in on me. A paranoid fear that I never had until now.My dad would tell me that my fear of the crack stemmed from something bigger, that I was creating a problem to avoid dealing with my existing troubles, and I'd argue that he doesn't know shit, that he will regret it when the house comes tumbling down because he didn't fix the crack. He'd tell me that I have to admit the truth to myself in order to find a resolution. I'd curse him out, pissed off that he thinks he knows everything.That was the old me, the boy who was too proud to admit he needed help. I know that the crack isn't growing, it'

Claire"I have here your half-yearly exams." Mr Eckles announces near the end of our Chemistry class, holding up a stack of papers. "I have to say to some of you, though, if this were your final exam result, then I'd be suggesting you repeat next year."A cold shiver ran down my spine, and paranoia set in. What if I were one of the students who didn't do too well? The chemistry exam wasn't exactly easy, which we had been warned about leading up to sitting it, and although I thought I did well, maybe I stuffed up somewhere and it's cost me marks. I should have studied more, knowing I need high marks in Chemistry to be able to get into medicine next year at university, instead, the only course I will probably be applying to is 'The Anatomy of Andy' because I know exactly what distracted me from studying.Mr Eckles weaves in between the desks, handing each student back their paper and every time he comes near mine, I hold my breath, scared to look at the result, but he breezes past me. A

AdrianAll I have to do is take the textbook up to her door and leave it there; she doesn't have to know it's from me, it could have been left there by anyone. It has my name on it, though, so she's going to know it was from me, and then she's going to think I'm pushing her into talking to me, even though she made it clear at the game that she wants nothing to do with me. What am I even doing here? I'm a step up from a stalker, sitting in my car out the front of her house, arguing with myself if I should give her my psychology textbook, all because she mentioned she might elect to study the course next year at university.The girl has been traumatised enough by her prick of an ex; she doesn't need me trying to sway her mind into what university course she should consider. On the other hand, though, if she does decide to study psychology, I know that this textbook is expensive, so it would save her money if she already had a copy. Who am I kidding? She lives in Brixton, in a house thre

AdrainSilence lingers between us, growing heavier by the second. What did she mean by that? 'Good to know'? Does she want me to think of this as a date? I could just ask her, but if I'm wrong, then I risk losing out on sharing the night with her. I'm crazy about her, I have been ever since I first laid eyes on her at the beach. She's an enigma, which is part of what makes me want her.I open my mouth to ask if she wants me to leave, but my timer starts going off. I reach in beside her and grab my phone from the vanity, pressing stop on the alarm."Our media room is two doors down, make yourself at home while I wash the bleach out, and I'll call you back when I'm ready to put the blue in." Jupiter jumps in before I can even ask where she wants me to go.I leave the bathroom, closing the door behind me and wander down the longest hall I've ever been in. It's filled with happy, smiley photographs of Jupiter throughout her school years and from the looks of it, the girl never encountered

JupiterI'd changed my outfit four times in the last twenty minutes, each time I settled on wearing something amazing, the little voice of doubt crept into my head, convincing me that I looked ridiculous. The voice wasn't even my own, and I hated the fact that I was still allowing him to get to me, even when he was long gone.What if I felt this way for the rest of my life? That every decision I made would be clouded by fear and doubt. He once had me believing that he was saying to my face what others said behind my back, that I seek attention for the way I dressed, that my brightly coloured hair was an eyesore, that I was too loud, too opinionated, too outgoing. I thought that dying my hair, returning to who I was, would shut him out of my head, but it didn't.I stand in front of my full length mirror, staring at my outfit, an orange, form fitted sweater that I paired with my favourite pair of black jeans and white boots. The sweater was the only brightly coloured piece I had on, it