"Wait," I raised my arm and executed a silly 'stop' signal with my hand. I sent him a playful grin when he stared at me for the interruption. "You? A bully? A bully of what, potatoes?"

He rolled his eyes before taking my accusing hand and locked both our fingers together. I felt my heart skip a beat. "Shut up and listen."

I puckered my lips in a mischievous manner before motioning him to proceed. I can't describe it clearly, but I liked his expression so much. It feels like he's relaxed with all these, like he's so comfortable with me even after showing me his weak side.

I can't help but wonder if he really trusts me or if he just needed someone to talk to.

I'll think about that later. For now, I'll just listen to his story.

"Well, when I said I was a bully, that was just to catch your attention," he admitted. "I told you before that I was bullied because I was an orphan, remember?"

Now that he mentioned it...

"That's right," I said. "You even said you wanted to apologize to those bullies. But then you just said you were the biggest bully in school. I'm confused here."

I was. I really was.

Brandon's lips curled up when I said that. He loves messing with my head. Ugh. "Until I turned twelve, I was a loser. I didn't have my own voice and the older kids pushed me around because I was so small and thin back then. I never complained whenever they hurt me. Dunno why, actually. Maybe I was too weak."

He's not weak. After all he's been through, nothing about him is weak.

"So my dad - my second dad - found out about my situation in school because of my bruises and cuts. So he taught me a few tricks he learned from being an officer. He taught me self-defense."

My brows raised at the mere mention of that overly familiar term. I don't know why I felt both guilty and excited when he revealed this to me. It just got my blood boiling for reasons that didn't involve anger.

"So there. After practicing with him a few times a day, I got better and stronger. Sometimes I didn't mean it, but I fought back a bit too hard on those bullies. I couldn't control my own strength, so every time I hit them thinking it was just an ordinary hit, it was actually quite critical. I got suspended for sending them to the hospital a few times."

Aah. I think I just found my soulmate.

"And I don't know where I developed this habit of glaring at random people, maybe it was during that time so no one could ever bully me again. When I first saw you, trust me, I wasn't glaring at you. I just thought you were really pretty."

I hid a blush. No, no. Don't be so affected by something he said so naturally. "So let me get this straight," I said, clearing my throat as if I didn't just hear him say I was pretty. "You look at bullies, potential bullies and pretty girls the same way?"

"Pretty much," he simply replied. I almost fell off the bed.

"Wow Brandon. I..." I overexaggerated my speech a bit. My sarcasm switch was turning on. "I'm... I'm so honored you put me in the pretty girls category. Maybe you sensed my awesome abilities so you got confused between pretty girls and potential bullies? It produced the same result anyway right?"

He scoffed at my sarcastic remark, but then he grinned after that. "Nah. You actually belong to all three categories. A bully, because you bully me, a potential bully because sometimes I'm not sure if you're gonna kick me or not, and a pretty girl, because you're too damn beautiful. You're the whole package."

I smirked, pleased with his reply. And yeah, I was hiding another blush because of that compliment but I was playing it cool. "I'm divergent."

We laughed after I replied using a book reference. I just loved talking with this guy. I didn't have to hide anything and I felt like I can tell him everything without having to worry about him judging me. Maybe he feels the same -

Shh. Don't think about it. Just go with the flow Mira.

"So there," he said, gripping my hand a bit tighter. "The start of my career as a bully."

"Oh please," I told him. "You were just defending yourself. You're not a bully for beating up bullies."

He shook his head. "No, I was a bully. I stooped down to their level and fought back more than necessary. Whenever I felt intimidated by someone, I call them out after school and beat them up before they beat me up, you know? I was doing it ahead of them, threatening them not to mess with me. Although if I think about it now, they were pretty harmless. I was pretty much a delinquent."

I just kept nodding my head like a freaking robot. I see. I see. I never thought he was like that before. He was a Gangster Potato back then. He sure changed a lot.

"I even had enemies from other schools. They came in groups and challenged me into fights so they could feel more superior. Bullshit. I beat them to a pulp by myself, without having to break a sweat."

I released a ball of breath (let's just call it that way - I don't know how else to put it) before raising a brow. "So you're saying you're a good fighter?"

"I'm a great fighter," he replied easily.

I mentally rolled my eyes. So modest.

"So, by being a good fighter, you always get punched and kicked by me? Which makes me what, the best fighter?" I challenged, oh-so-humbly as well.

He sent me a warm smile, the kind of smile you give a kid that was being too cute for her own good. "I can't predict what you want to do next. You're different from the average guys."

Oh wow. He even compared me to the average guys. Again Brandon, I'm so deeply touched.

"Or maybe I'm just too distracted by your face, your eyes, your whole being that I don't even mind whatever you do to me."

He was smiling at me goofily while saying that, like he was reciting lines from a cheesy movie. I rolled my eyes laughing but I felt the heat rush up to my cheeks. Damn it this guy knew how to talk.

"Shall I continue with the story, or do you want a match to see if I'm telling the truth or not?" He suggested. I gave him a look. Wasn't my answer obviously already?

"Go on with your story," I said. "We'll have a match later."

"A match? Later? Right here? Just the two of us? In this bed?" He asked, sounding a bit too eager yet playful. I burst out into a fit of mock laughter.

"Sure."

He sent me a wink. "Ooh nice. I don't even want to continue the story anymore. I want to start the match already so I can win and tie you up in your own bed."

My room was filled with his deep laughter after that and I had to slap his shoulder a few times just to get him to continue with the story. He was having too much fun this brat.

"Okay, okay," he finally surrendered. Good. I have to focus, damn it. What he said just lit up a few suggestive images in my head and that was not good. Not good at all, potato. "Remember those three guys in the restaurant earlier?"

"Yeah?"

"They made fun of me because when the teacher asked me to fill a form that required my parents' name back then, I put my real parents' and my foster parents' names. They laughed at me because I had two dads and two moms. The thin one there, Arvin, told everyone at school that my first pair of parents were ghosts and the second pair were soulless bodies or something. T'was pretty childish. I hated him for that. He had no idea what I've been through. So after class, I met him outside school. He was with his two buddies. He started taunting me again and I couldn't control myself. I beat him and his buddies up. Arvin was in a coma for two weeks."

A hand travelled to my mouth. Gosh. I can't imagine Brandon like this at all. A coma?

"After that I was expelled. Dad found out about how I've been applying the things he taught me and he was very disappointed in me. I felt bad. I really did, so I decided to change. I can't erase my past, those kids I beat up probably won't forgive me but at least I have to forgive myself, right? What's done is done. I have to look forward."

I was this close to clapping. He was so optimistic. If I were in his place I wouldn't have made it this far and with such a cheerful personality too. It really is true what they say. People who smile the brightest, hide the most pain.

"It's easier said than done though," he admitted. "I still feel really guilty. And Arvin's really afraid of me after that incident. I broke his nose and fractured his ribs. It was that bad. I'm still reflecting up until this day."

I wanted to say it was Arvin's fault for being a snotty little brat. Brandon's parents were a touchy subject during that time and he just had to rub it in his face. If I was in Brandon's shoes, I would've done the same. Maybe even worse.

"I wonder why I don't feel guilty every time I beat someone up," I thought out loud.

"Because for you, it's self-defense. And it is. No arguments there," he replied. And then he looked uo as if he thought of something. "Didn't you feel bad after beating Sam up and then learning about his true intentions?"

Why is he bringing Sam up again? Seriously.

"Because I know I did something bad to an innocent person."

"What about me?" He asked, more like whined. "You don't feel bad for kicking my precious. If I can't father children in the future, I'm putting the blame on you."

I don't know why I found that so funny.

"Of course I feel bad, stop whining like a kid." I rolled my eyes. He was grinning like an idiot. I wish he'd stop smiling at me like that. I can't think properly.

He folded his arms. "If I'm a kid then you should take reponsibilty and kiss my booboos."

"Seriously Brandon?"

He was raising his brows suggestively while offering me a wide smirk. We'll see if you can keep that face up for long.

"Back when I gave you a booboo to your little precious and offered to soothe the pain for you, you flinched and backed away like a girl. If I kiss it you might faint from all the excitement."

Okay. I just used innocent choices of words for sexual references. This was awkward. Wait - How'd our conversation turn this way again? Curse you Brandon.

"First of all, my precious shall not be called little." He said.

Oh. My. God.

"And second of all, I didn't actually expect you to do that. You were being a bully and my precious did in fact get excited but - "

Make him stop! Make him stop!

"If it happens again, I'll make sure my precious and I will be prepared." He finished with a wide smirk. He knew I was getting embarrassed.

I glared at him. "Would you please stop referring to your thing as your precious? You sound like Gollum. And you look like him."

Bad taste in insults Mira. That was so weak.

He stuck his tongue out before biting back. "You called it that too. What should I call it then? Potato?"

"No! No!" I strongly disagreed as I shook my head so hard I thought it was gonna fall off my shoulders. There's no way in hell he's gonna name his thing Potato and call me Potato too. Nope. Nuh-uh.

His grin was so wide now. It probably beat the Cheshire cat's smile. I can't believe we're even talking about this right now.

"Then I'll call it Junior," he said. "Potato Junior."

Dude. I face-palmed. "It doesn't necessarily need a name you know."

"You're always torturing him so yeah, Potato Junior deserves his name." He argued childishly.

"Ahh alright call your thing whatever you want, have it tattooed for all I care but let's just drop the topic. Okay? Now where were we?"

Brandon chuckled before pinching ny cheeks. Fuck him. I mean no! Screw him! No! I didn't mean - I meant - Ugh! He's corrupting my pure and innocent mind!

"You're adorable Potato," he laughed, cupping my cheeks and bringing my face closer to his. He gave me a long kiss on the mouth and then repeatedly pecked my entire face with his kisses. "I can just eat you up."

Okay, my brain seriously needed to stop functioning right now because it was sending me all the wrong ideas.

"Brandon." I tried to sound calm. He was still kissing every part of my face. Did I seriously look like a kid to him? Why is treating me like this? Not that I don't like it but - AAH! He's driving me nuts! "Brandon."

He pressed his lips on mine as he replied. "Mm?"

I just couldn't bring myself to pull away. Damn him. He's lucky I like him so much. Damn him to hell. "What happened to the rest of the story?"

"Oh yeah," he chuckled. His warm breath fanned my face but his lips were still pressed on mine. What was he up to? "I stopped beating people up, reflected and became the me I am today. I can't get rid of my glaring habits though. The end."

"The end?!" I exclaimed, disbelief in my eyes. I would've pulled away if it weren't for his hands that had snaked to the sides of my waist. I supressed a gasp. "What do you mean the end?!"

He slowly laid me down with him hovering over me and his lips never parting with mine. I felt him make a lazy grin. "Book two is done. Now you have to purchase book three to learn more about the story. The price has been upgraded for my benefit. Do you want to purchase the third book and conclude the Potato Trilogy? Or do you want to purchase it another day? The offer stands without a deadline."

I was feeling tired already because this guy was just a hopeless story-teller and even if he did tell me the rest of the story now, I wouldn't be able to concentrate with him doing this to me.

"I'll purchase it another day," I said.

He nodded. "Then what do you want to do now? Want a match?"

I knew pretty well where this was going. My reply was the same.

"In another day."

"Oh I know," he grinned at me innocently. "Want to meet Potato Jun - "

"No."

He laughed and playfully made a disappointed expression. "Damn."

It was a few seconds before one of us moved or even spoke again. It was getting pretty late. He kissed the corner of my lips a few times before diving into a real kiss. Then he trailed kisses from my jaw down to my neck. Then he just stooped, his head just buried there on my neck.

"I'm sleepy," he yawned. I yawned too.

"Then sleep." I commanded.

"You know," he began. "We're in a compromising position right now."

I had to agree. His head was buried on my neck, his hands were on my waist and my fingers were tangled in his hair. But we weren't doing anything. We were just too tired to move.

"So what?" I asked.

"Well, usually, either Nichole or Leo would walk in on us. They can sense Potato Junior's awakening, I swear. They're trying to stop it."

We both laughed at the memories where our best friends always caught us in the act. I could feel the vibrations of his laughter on my chest and it felt so warm and nostalgic. I didn't even feel much of his weight while he's on top of me. Maybe he's partially supporting himself so he won't crush me. Wow. He still had the energy to do that?

Well, either that or I had boobs of steel.

"Mira?"

Nichole gently knocked on my door and opened it before I even got to answer. Gotta love your best friends.

She released a silent, frustrated, yet mischievous groan after seeing us like that. Leo made barfing noises.

"See?" Brandon said. "Told you they were gonna walk in."

I giggled as Leo went closer to the side of the bed and started pulling Brandon's shirt like a kid. "C'mon you damn Casanova," he mumbled. "Get off my best friend. It's late and we still have class tomorrow."

"Since when did you worry about class?" Brandon lazily replied, getting off me as told. Wonder why I felt so cold all of a sudden.

"Since I found out I'm flunking Biology," he replied. "Now let's go. We're going ahead Mira."

"Bye." I mumbled, half-awake. Damn I was so tired. Maybe all the crying I did this day alone drained all my energy.

"Goodnight Potato," I heard Brandon yawn again.

After they left, Nichole pulled my covers up and tucked me in. Then she shut the lights off before she closed my door quietly. "Goodnight Mira."

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Re-uploaded: 8/21/15

A/N: I uploaded this chapter again and deleted the previous one because wattpad got bitchy and cut the ending. So sorry if some of you guys got confused! I only found out about it now. Enjoy your day!