All Chapters of 15 Days Babysitting For My Star Quarterback Bully: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The sharp smell of paint still clings to me no matter how hard I try to erase it.My shoulders curve inwardly as I sit on the edge of the couch, while Mom paces the living room like she’s the one who’s been violated.The police already came and left after taking a report that sounded painfully empty even as it was spoken aloud. As soon as they listed out the obvious – no witnesses, cameras, or signs of who did it – I knew there’d be no going forward with the investigations. They’d probably just chalk it up to some kids playing a prank and close the case.But I’d be the one left with the destruction and loss.I can still see the remains of my painting every time I blink. The shredded canvas. The ruined colors smeared together like someone deliberately wanted to erase every hour I spent working on it. And the one dream I’ve carefully protected most of my life, gone with it.“Are you even listening to me, Lila?” Mom throws her hands into the air when I don’t respond. “I knew this was get

Tyler’s POVLila doesn’t even notice that I’m not driving her home. That’s how I know how completely checked out she is.I glance at my side, watching her stare out the passenger window quietly. Her cheek rests against her hand while the late February sunlight flashes across her face in streaks of gold and shadow.Sighing, I turn back to the road. Then, I make the turn toward my neighborhood instead.Only then does she finally blink and look over at me. “Where are we going?”“Trust me,” I say.That gets a tiny reaction out of her at least. She lifts one brow slightly. “That usually ends badly for people.”I snort softly. “For other people maybe.”She shakes her head faintly, but she doesn’t argue again.The closer we get to my house, the tighter my grip becomes on the steering wheel. Because honestly? I have no idea if this is a good idea.All weekend I kept thinking about her face in that garage. The way she looked standing in front of h

I barely get to talk to Tyler all day.Dad decided to drop me off at school for some “bonding.” Though I barely hear a word he said because I’m still mad.Then, Tyler and I hardly have a class together. And when we do, one of us is usually asked to stay behind by the teacher. By the time the last bell rings, I’m so apprehensive that my palms have gotten super sweaty.I spot him leaning against his car in the parking lot, spinning his keys around one finger. My heart pounds softly as I wonder what kind of mood he’s in, with the news of next week’s scrimmage flying around.However, the closer I get to him, the more I see the grin on his face. And it is way too smug for someone who I thought would be in a bad mood.The second he sees me, his entire face comes alive. It still does something ridiculous to my chest every single time. “There she is,” he says as I approach. “My favorite stalker.”I snort. “You wish.”“You literally waited outside my last cla

Tyler’s POVCold evening air bites against the back of my neck as I jog onto the practice field behind Coach and Alex.My shoulder feels tight beneath my pads, not painful exactly, but unfamiliar in a way I still haven’t gotten used to. Every movement reminds me that something inside me was cut open and stitched back together.Coach tosses me a football. “Warm up slow,” he warns. “You start overcompensating again, I’m pulling you.”“I know,” I mutter.“Do you?” he asks dryly.Alex snorts beside me. “He definitely doesn’t.”I flip him off before stepping back and rolling my shoulder carefully. The stands are mostly empty except for one familiar figure curled up near the middle row with a sketchbook balanced on her knees.This is the third practice Lila is waiting behind to watch, and she has no idea how grateful I am for her presence.Even from here, I can tell she’s drawing me. Every few seconds, she glances up at me, then back down at the pa

The lake looks different at night.Or maybe it just feels different because the last time Tyler and I were here together, we were in the middle of a fight.Now, his car is parked in almost the exact same spot overlooking the dark water. Except tonight the windows are cracked open just enough for the cool March air to drift inside, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant pine trees.A half-empty carton of fries sits between us, alongside two milkshakes Tyler insisted on buying even after I told him I wasn’t hungry.“You say that every time,” he says around a mouthful of fries, one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel. “And then you steal my food.”“I do not steal your food.”Tyler slowly turns his head toward me, and I try not to laugh at the defeat in his eyes. His brows lift. “Garcia?”“Okay, maybe sometimes.”“Mm-hm.”“But only because you order better food than me.”“That sounds like a you problem.”Snorting softly, I lea