We're friends, right Yamada?

1K 24 41
                                    

Bruce POV

Is Vance, asking me

On a date?

"I'm confused," I express, "why are you asking me-"

"We're friends, right Yamada? So I'm asking if you wanna go to a pizza place. That's all."

"Friends? Since when?"

He looks at me, a slightly hurt expression in his eye

"Alright then. You can have the fucking tickets. I don't want them. See you later," he growls, making his way past me to the door. Did I hurt his feelings? I didn't mean to, I was just joking

Before he can leave I step towards him, putting my arms around his waist. He stops in his tracks. I tighten my grip around his torso, resting my head on his shoulder.

"I was kidding. I love pizza, I obviously wanna go eat some," I mumble in his ear. I feel his cheeks heat up. He relatively taller than me, so I move my hands up slightly, to be properly holding onto his waist. His cheeks heat up even more.

I realise now that I had my hands on his chest

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

I realise now that I had my hands on his chest

"W-Whatever Yamada, get your hands off me before I break your fingers,"

"Will do!" I immediately snatch my fingers away. I know he wouldn't actually break my fingers, but I know he's being serious.

"I'll meet you there at 6?" I inquire

"Yeah. I'll see you there," and with that, he walks out if the door.

I look at the clock. It's 8:29. If I hurry I can still get my mark.

"Okay guys, open your textbooks and turn to chapter 4,"

English is one of the boring subjects. It's easy, and usually I get straight As. I open the text book, flipping to the right page. All the words I read came back to me, I'm lucky I read them early. I haven't had time these last few days.

Suddenly, the door swings open as a blonde boy storms in. I watch his hair bounce around as he looks for a seat. He pulls out the chair next to me, aggressively throwing himself onto it.

"Vance. You're late." The teacher states bluntly

"So fucking what? I showed up didnt I? Carry on."

Teachers hate Vance. They can't be bothered to start an argument with him because it usually ends in violence.

"Vance. I didn't know you were in my English?," I ask. I truly didn't realise he was in my class. I didn't take Vance for an advance English student.

"Why? Because you think I'm an idiot?" He threatens, a stern look upon his brow.

"No. Just that I've never seen you before."

He nods, turning away from me. He seems more aggressive today. I'm. Worried. About him. I've seen him act worse, but he seems more agitated around me, and others.

"Okay class, I've set homework this week. I want you to find a partner and write a 5000 word essay on the book, Mice of Men, 5000 words, okay?"

I see Vance's face become even more agitated as the teacher repeats the phrase '5000 words'. His fists clenched as though he was gonna punch the desk in half.

I need to help him

Without thinking, I place my hand over his fists, moving my thumb carefully over his bandages knuckles. He immediately freezes In his seat. I see his cheeks tint a slight shade of red.

That happens a lot

I do find it confusing. I'll be honest. I still barely even know Vance, and yet. He's been in my home. We've slept in the same bed. We've held hands. Everything that,

That couples would do

No. No. I can sense what your thinking. But that's not what this is. I've just, never had a really close friend before. Don't get me wrong. I love Finney and Robin like brothers. They've always been there for me, Finney since I was 6. But There's something about Vance. Something, different. And I cannot put my finger on it.

I snap out of my train of thought to find Vance's hand, tangled in my own, our fingers interlocked under the table.

I feel that same heat crawl up my neck and flood into my cheeks again.

He really knows how to mess with me

He moves his other hand under the table, finding itself placed on my thigh, moving its way, slowly, upward.

Fuck

His hands moves from my thigh, up my waist and under my shirt. He begins to outline my abs with a finger, never removing his eyes from the front of the class. He traces them out, slowly, torturously.

He's teasing me

He's messing with me

He slides his entire hand across my chest, clawing slightly at the skin.

He's got some balls

"Okay, class dismissed," the teacher suddenly calls "pick your partners and have your essays done by next week, Wednesday"

With that, Vance takes his hand away. Grabbing his bag and leaving the room. No words said. No facial expressions. No nothing. He just leaves.

Oh

Oh

If it's a game he wants. It's a game he will get. If he wants to mess with me, I'll gladly return to sender. I grab my bag from under the desk, placing all my books inside. I zip it up and make my way towards the door, shutting it behind me. I get into the hallway as I see a huge mop of blonde hair disappear round the corner.

So

He invites me on a potential date

Flirts with me on the daily

And now he's had his hands on my abs

He's got another thing coming, if he thinks, I won't return to sender. If he wishes to play this game, he better prepare for the consequences. He will not be let off easy.

He will have no idea what's hit his pretty face

I will attend that dinner invite

And I will make him remember not to mess with a Yamada

Unless he's serious, because then

I have no idea what I'm gonna do about it

I don't give a damn about my reputation Where stories live. Discover now