A boyxboy enemies to lovers high-school comedy based in New York city.
𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗼 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗻á𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘇, the flirtatious and ridiculously handsome football star quarterback- is both rude and quick tempered, but most concernedly known as the Northside Hi...
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MARCO'S POV
THE LAST DAY OF SUMMER
***
I rolled my green eyes up to heaven as I slammed the large sliver door of the fridge shut.
"Dad. You can't actually think that."
My old man chuckled at my response as he snatched the orange carton right out of hands.
"Oh yes I can."
We were having- yet again- another pointless debate about who would be the first to die in a zombie apocalypse.
"I have natural instincts. I think with my head. You think with your heart."
He roared with laugher. "You really think that!?"
I widened my eyes- biting back a laugh. "Yes! One hundred percent you idiot!"
"God, Marco. Sometimes I really wonder how you became like this."
I rolled my eyes once again. "For your information- you made me this way."
"How'd you figure that?"
"You pushed me into sports- never let me win. It does something to a guy."
"For your information- you came out of the womb like that. I'm not entirely sure that there wasn't a twin in there you bumped off."
I'm not entirely sure I didn't come out of the womb an entitled piece of shit either.
Because legend has it that I did.
From a young age I was immediately put up on some sort of invisible pedestal.
I mean, considering the fact that my mom was never fucking around and I raised by my older brother, Pablo and my dad- they pretty much made it their mission to make sure that I never fell behind in anything.
They made sure I was able to properly take care of myself- clean and put together. Manners, stewardship and well behaved. I mean some could say I lost some of that along the way- and perhaps I did.
Growing up I never felt the absent of my mother. Anything my dad couldn't fill me in on- my brother did. And anything that he couldn't fill me in on- my dad did.
Despite my dad growing up in a strict and cold hispanic environment- he has always told me that it's always okay for me to talk about my feelings. Or my brother encouraging me to cry on his shoulder if I ever needed to.
They were always up front, supporting me at every football game, every basketball game, every failed cooking class- or next to me whenever I was experiencing a epileptic seizure.
