Joc Haven

[03] Body

body
MARLEY'S POV:

There are three things everybody loves about Joc Haven.

- his smile
- his body
- his eyes

But if you really consider it for a moment, you'll start to realize that everything everyone loves about him is superficial. Nothing of depth. Because once you really get to know him, his good looks and paper-white smile can't save him from himself. They don't mean anything at the end of the day.

His jaw-dropping, picture perfect smile. Yes, he's had to suffer through seventh and eighth grade being a metal mouth, but in all honesty, nobody could complain. Joc has a smile that can make you melt into a puddle, wet your panties, and spread your legs wide open. Because it's that precious, that manipulative, that mesmerizing, that gorgeous, and so very reassuring.

His body—though it's hard to actually formulate a sentence when you're privileged to see his broad shoulders, strong arms, and delicious six-pack—well, let's just say we'd all be lucky enough if there were enough words in the English language to describe his physique. 

Everywhere he went there were eyes on him. Everywhere. And it's well deserved because he is a sight for sore eyes. And as much as I despise him, I don't mind looking at him.

But his eyes, his green eyes are so unique. They're so... real—if that makes sense—like, if you stare into them, somehow they tell a different story. Something of an internal battle; the mind at war with heart; and it's hard to register the words coming out of his mouth with the words his eyes dares to hold in. And yes, his eyes are still only a physical feature of his, but they're so captivating in the raw moments of life that sometimes they don't seem superficial.

That's the thing with him. He makes you think and feel like he isn't superficial. But he is. He used me. He's a body. Just somebody. He's just Joc Haven.

I pull up to the curb by my house because my brother and his friends are playing basketball outside in our driveway and I can't park in the garage. My father isn't home because he's an OB-GYN and works long hours, and my youngest sister is at her best friend Maggie's house due to the neglect in this hellhole of a house. And me? Well, I'm going to try my best to walk into the two-story house invisible and unseen.

I turn off my prized-possession—Dad's old white Chevy truck—and hop out of the driver's seat before locking the car. I haul my backpack over one shoulder and start my trek across the front lawn in attempt to keep on the down-low, but my plan fails when the stupid jock of a Joc turns to shoot a three.

"Marley!" he calls out, shooting his shot, making it, and heading over to me. Great.

I turn my cheek and let my hair fall in my face. But the next thing I know, he's pulling me in by the waist, his hand somehow finding its way under the baggy sweatshirt I'm wearing. And it's innocent, but after everything he's done to me I feel his touch shatter my bones. Again. Again, again, and again. Because the cycle never ends.

"Hey," he says, turning me around so he can look down into my eyes. "Hey," he repeats.

I glance up at him and his green irises, my hands finding a spot on his chest. "Hi, Joc."

Staring at me for a second, he smoothly plants a small kiss on the side of my cheek to catch just a glimpse of the corners of my lips. "You really are beautiful, Mar."

"Funny, you think I'd fall for that," I mutter, looking at the place my hands are on his chest.

"Don't worry, you already have." Joc chuckles a little, pinching the small layer of skin I have left on my body. Nice of you to remember.