The Return of the Bad boy

Chapter 2: Cam

This should be interesting. Or an absolute disaster.

I was trying to keep an open mind.

I zoomed into the school's parking lot, gaining major attention. Not many kids rode a motorcycle to school. Some seniors still took the school bus, which was cool too. But I was glad I didn't have to worry about that anymore. At least until it started to snow or rain.

Hopefully, by then, I'll have my car to drive. I found this Chevy impala that reminded me of Dean's car from Supernatural. It needed a lot of parts, some paint, an engine, and the list goes on.

After fixing up this motorcycle and getting it to ride smoothly, I figured my next project would be a car. My uncle Alex taught me everything I need to know about building/fixing cars and motorcycles. If my current future goals don't work out, I will make a decent mechanic. I liked working with my hands. It helped ease my stress and take my mind off of a few things.

When I finally found a parking spot, it was next to Abigail Tate's pink Honda accord. She and a few of her cheerleading minions had nearly broken their necks when they saw me pull up. They filed out of the car, staring at me with wide eyes.

I was unrecognizable with my helmet on. I knew once they caught a glimpse of me, they'd either lose all interest and or be further intrigued. The first one was preferable. The last thing I needed was my ex-friend's ex-girlfriend trying to make another pass at me. He already believes I was a backstabber. If it looked like I was stealing his ex-girl, it'd make this unnecessarily worse. Never mind the fact that they're broken up. Everyone knows that won't last, and they'll be back together by the end of the week or whenever. I didn't really care.

My plan was to cruise through the year and keep my head down.

I shut off my bike and slowly removed my helmet, giving my hair a little shake. I didn't have enough time to let it dry this morning, so strands of my wet locks stuck to my forehead. I had to comb it back with my fingers.

"OMG! CAMERON!" I heard one of the girls squeal.

I swung one leg over my bike then gave the group a wave with a tight-lipped smile.

"Nice bike!" Abigail said, checking out my ride. "Your back seat looked empty. You should offer me a ride sometime." She twirled her red hair around her finger. I never understood how that move worked for her. I've seen guys fawn all over when she gave them this kind of attention.

The girls giggled behind like she had just delivered a prime pick-up line guaranteed to get her exactly what she wanted. You'd think with our history, she would have learned that not only did hell have to freeze over, pigs had to fly, and a zombie apocalypse, all had to take place at once. I'd also have to be out of my dang mind to consider cozying up with toxic, self-absorbed, and manipulative chick like her. So I'd like to wish the next guy some luck in advance.

I was quick with my reply. If I stayed quiet too long, she would think she had me in her web. "Nope. You have a car for a reason, and that seat is reserved." That wasn't entirely true, but she didn't need to know that.

Her lips parted as she huffed out a breath, and I strolled by the group without another word.

Pulling my schedule out of my back pocket, I searched for my locker info at the bottom of the sheet. For the first time in history, my locker appears to be in a decent location. Thank you, senior privileges.

Skipping up to the second floor, I spotted my locker a few feet from the staircase. Not bad at all. I put the combo in, unlocking it, and hung my jacket before slipping in my helmet.

I didn't notice it earlier, but I was definitely the talk of the school right now. People are walking by and whispering behind my back. You'd think my actions from months ago would be old news, but no, teenagers have to revive the same old gossip.