All Chapters of My Bully Next Door: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Beckett I’m not looking forward to tonight. Not even a little. I lean against my locker and watch students move through the hallway while trying—and failing—not to think about the fact that in a few hours, Ella James will be living in my house. Temporarily. Two weeks. Which somehow feels both incredibly short and way too long. I let out a slow breath and rub the back of my neck. “This is going to be a disaster.” “What is?” I don’t even have to look up. Sean. Of course. The guy has a sixth sense for catching people in bad moods. “Nothing.” Sean snorts. “That’s funny.” I glance at him. “Why?” “Because you’ve looked miserable all morning.” Great. Exactly what I wanted to hear. I shove my hands into my pockets. “Didn’t sleep well.” The lie comes easily. Mostly because it isn’t entirely a lie. I really didn’t sleep well. Just not for the reason Sean thinks. The actual reason is standing in the guest room down the hall from mine. Well, not literally standing ther

Ella Dinner is… surprisingly normal. I spend the first ten minutes waiting for it to stop feeling that way. Waiting for the awkwardness to show up. Waiting for Beckett to make some comment. Waiting for myself to remember that I’m sitting in the house of the guy who has spent years making my life miserable. Instead, Mrs. Cross tells a story about one of her charity events, Mason interrupts every thirty seconds, and somehow everyone falls into a rhythm that feels almost effortless. “…and then the dog escaped.” Mason immediately sits up straighter. “The big one?” “Yes, the big one.” “The fluffy one?” “There are a lot of fluffy ones.” “The giant fluffy one.” Mrs. Cross laughs. “Yes. The giant fluffy one.” “I would’ve caught him.” “Would you?” Mason nods seriously. “I’m very fast.” I bite back a smile. “That’s true,” I tell him. “I’ve seen it.” His face lights up immediately. Validation achieved. Mission accomplished. Across the table, Beckett rolls his eyes. “His

Ella By lunch, I feel exhausted. Not physically. Emotionally. Like I’ve spent the entire day bracing for something. Every hallway. Every classroom. Every whisper I overhear. Part of me keeps waiting for it. The bathroom story. The joke. The laughter. The moment I realize Beckett told someone. It never comes. Which should make me feel better. Instead, somehow it makes me more anxious. Because now I’m waiting for it. Lila drops into the seat across from me and immediately points a french fry in my direction. “Alright.” I don’t even look up. “That’s never a good way to start a conversation.” She narrows her eyes. “Who died, who got arrested, or what are you not telling me?” A laugh almost escapes me. Almost. “Nothing.” “That’s adorable.” I sigh. “Lila.” “Nope. Try again.” She studies me for another second. Then her expression shifts. Not softer exactly. Just more focused. “You’ve been weird all day.” “I’ve always been weird.” “You know what I mean.” Un

Beckett I should be studying. That’s the whole reason I’m sitting at my desk. Laptop open. English assignment pulled up. Notes scattered across the surface. Everything is exactly where it’s supposed to be. The problem is that none of it is sticking. I’ve read the same paragraph three times. Maybe four. I still have no idea what it says. With a frustrated sigh, I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling. This is ridiculous. Tomorrow’s game should be the only thing on my mind. Coach has been riding us all week. We need the win. I should be reviewing plays or finishing homework or literally anything productive. Instead, my brain keeps circling back to one thing. Or rather— One person. Ella. Downstairs on the living room floor. Laughing with Mason. The image pops into my head so clearly it’s annoying. Because it wasn’t school-Ella. It wasn’t the girl hiding behind oversized clothes and avoiding eye contact. It was someone else entirely. Someone relaxed. Someon

Beckett For a second, I honestly think I’m imagining things. The noise of the party fades into the background. The music, the conversations, the splashing from the pool—everything blurs together until all I can focus on is the girl standing near the patio. Ella. My brain recognizes her immediately. But it still takes a second for the rest of me to catch up. Because I’ve spent years seeing her one way. Quiet. Hidden. Always tucked behind oversized sweatshirts and lowered eyes. And suddenly she’s standing in the middle of my backyard looking like she belongs there. Looking like she was never meant to disappear in the first place. I stare. Longer than I should. Long enough that it becomes a problem. “Holy shit.” Sean’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “When did that happen?” I don’t answer. Mostly because I don’t have one. When did it happen? The haircut? The confidence? The fact that she’s standing here at all? I honestly don’t know. I just know she’s different.