Reverse Rivalry

Freak Of Nature

"Boys," snapped Mr Pell dragging Jale out of his stupor. He was staring daggers into the couch arm while grating his nails across the exposed skin of his leg. He was physically and mentally drained. His mood was sour and the bitterness in his throat made his eyebrows deepen into a frown.

It was ten in the fucking morning and Mr Pell with the grace of a cat waltzed into this hell of a place like he owned it. The permanent scowl on Jale's face deepened expressing his displeasure at the man's presence on a fucking Saturday.

Jale lifted his eyes to stare menacingly at Mr Pell. He tightened his fingers into a fist on his right leg. Mr Pell was dressed like the middle-aged man he was, grey pants and a caramel knitted loose sweater. He was settled into a chair that was smack in the middle of the living room in front of the centrepiece.

He was too comfortable. He was too relaxed and at ease when Jale was anything but. Jale's whole body was on alert. Skylar was right next to him on the sofa, still breathing although Jale wished the boy had died in his goddamn sleep. They both sat on the other side of the couch as far away as possible, at least Jale was. He was trying to play it off. He couldn't let the freak think he won this one, couldn't allow him to think that he had obtained one more weakness that Jale definitely didn't have.

He didn't want the fucker to notice but the psychotic asshole was staring him down with the eyes of the devil. It sent an involuntary chill down Jale's spine. Skylar's upper body was turned directly to him and he was blatantly ignoring Mr Pell. Skylar's eyes trailed over Jale's form while his fingers were rubbing across his lips.

Jale felt bile rise up his throat. Just the thought of Skylar fucking Lain thinking he batted for the other team made him feel sick.

His skin was crawling with goosebumps from the previous night. Jale had taken the L and curled up on the couch without a comforter but even then, his mind was loud. Jale had to suppress every last bit of rage that twisted inside his gut when Skylar popped inside his head. He couldn't stop thinking about the bastard's words. Skylar's voice clawed at his brain and curled through his thoughts like a parasite. Even with the cold biting at his skin, Jale's mind had tortured him repeatedly. He had painfully fallen asleep biting his lips until they bled.

"I didn't expect the both of you to get along right off the bat but I expected rules to at least be followed," Mr Pell said finally deciding to open his mouth. Jale wanted the man to get over with whatever he came to do. He needed to get the fuck out of here. His hands were settled in his lap and his legs were crossed.  Fluffy brown house slippers hung from his feet.

"Mr Lain's face will never see a beautiful day at this rate, Mr Kierson,"

Jale's eyes narrowed at Mr Pell. The man's gaze was directly on him. They were analyzing, cold and mocking, like he was looking at a child throwing a tantrum. Jale felt anger twist in his stomach. He would damn well stop fucking up the bastard's face if he would learn to keep his trap shut.

"Why are you here Mr Pell, on a Saturday no less?" Skylar interjected slowly bringing his penetrating gaze to settle like a sharp blade on Mr Pell's figure. 

"I'm here to assign the tasks you must complete together even if it kills both of you,"

"So you fucking know shit like this won't fix anything," Jale snarled. Mr Pell's gaze switched to him. The atmosphere of the room curled and tightened into a ball. The hostile atmosphere could suffocate Jale. Jale fisted his shorts. He couldn't believe he had to start off his fucking morning like this, maybe every morning like this. Jale cursed in his head.

"Why do you care so much about two insignificant students, Mr Pell?" Skylar inquired bringing up his left leg to lay on his right knee then dropped his arm over the couch next to Jale's neck. Jale flinched a little when he could feel Skylar's cold fingertips touching his skin.