'𝙃𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙚 𝘿𝙖𝙡𝙚.'
They weren't suppose to. It was illegal, they're parents enemies. He was suppose to hate every fibre of his being, he thought he did at first. That stupid laugh, that unruly...
Envy. The four lettered word would be the death of him. He envied the way the moonlight glistened off his shoulders, he envied his thick accent. He envied the way he gave Jennifer all his attention. He envied how skilled he was at soccer. He envied those hazel eyes, those soft hands he'd run through his silky hair, the touch of his skin. Was it envy? He envied a lot of people, but none of them made him feel the way Joseph Trotta did.
"What?"
"He wanted to know why I had such a bad attitude,'' Billy huffed.
Elio hoarsely chuckled, "I think they all do.''
Billy rolled his eyes, plopping on a box.
"Did he kick you out?" Joey questioned, flipping through a car magazine.
"He put me on pots and pans for the rest of the semester," enragement boiling at the tips of Billy's fingers.
"Hey, it could be worse,'' Joey croaked.
"Yeah,'' Elio added, sitting on the heater, "You could be kicked out of your fifth school, thanks to a dipshit named Joey Trotta.''
Joey threw the magazine to Elio, who ducked it, accompanied by his infamous laugh.
"Yeah, he coulda smashed my knees with a ball-pen hammer,'' Billy rolled his eyes, rapidly bouncing his leg.
Elio hesitated for a moment before saying, "Or he coulda held your neck to a burning hot oven until the heat starts slitting into your collarbone.''
Joey shook his head, "Not the time Elio, not the time.''
Elio kissed his teeth. Billy leaped up, slamming his hands on one of the pedestals, "That fucker, that asshole.''
"Up. Up,'' he ordered, pacing around the room, "We have to strikeback.''
He lifted Elio off the heater, placing him gently on his bed. "We gotta do something epic, tonight. Or else I'll end up looking like a douchebag to the whole school.''
"Come on,'' he yelled, upset that the two teens weren't reciprocating his energy.
"You were born looking like a douchebag Billy,'' Joey hushed, his accent thick, Elio snickered.
Billy broke the stick, banging it on the heater. Elio flinched.
"Come on Joey, get dressed. Elio put some pants on, unless you wanna streak in nothing but your boxers,'' Billy seethed.
