The Bad Boy Has A Secret

Chapter 11- Dust ball

Y/N---

I reluctantly lift my head up.

A guy who looks to be our age is stood two metres away. Dusty brown hair covers his face partially, a bright battered helmet resting on top. An extravagantly decorated skateboard is clutched in one hand. His nose wrinkles as he inspects us with visible confusion. He's much thinner than Damian, resembling a spindly tree branch.

"Hey, are you Damian? From Class 11W? You look familiar." the guy chirps, his voice high pitched. "Why are you sitting outside on forest grass in the evening with-" his head tilts as he tries to find the words to finish the sentence, probably my name.

Damian's look of uninterest makes you think he's been forced to watch paint dry. "Yeah I am. What's it to you?" he scowls. I nudge his elbow and upon seeing 'Really? Don't be so rude.' inscribed upon my face, he grumbles. "Sorry. Why do you ask?"

"I knew I recognised you. You've got quite the audience at school. Even my cousin from 11X likes you." his tone ends bitterly, as if he's expecting Damian to apologise for having swooned her over. I subconsciously roll my eyes, remembering the fangirls from the first few days of school. It's a relief to know not everyone is like that.

"Who's this with you?"

I glare at him, eyebrow raised, demanding he makes eye contact. "At least face me when you ask. I'm Y/N. Care to say who you are?"

"The name's Elliot. Elliot Keegan." he finally introduces, even doing a silly little bow. Theatre kid.

"Surprised you don't already know me. I'm the one people go to when they wanna hear the juice. The drama. The gossip. They call me.. the Gossip Master." Mischief dances in his dark eyes as he emphasises his self proclaimed title. "And you know what would make excellent gossip? The popular new guy hanging out with lone wolf girl, at night. I'm real curious as to why this situation is happening. Are you two childhood friends? Are you spies meeting up for a secret mission? Or are you- dating?"

The last accusation casts my cheeks a watermelon pink, which is probably giving him the wrong idea. I bite back a couple swears and the urge to charge at him with his own skateboard. I may be on mutual terms with Damian, but I am not dating him. I don't think I ever would. There's no denying he's eye candy, and he's certainly skilled in sports for one, but his way with girls needs- some work. Plus I'm not- interested, in dating.

Damian, looking very annoyed, rises from his place and starts advancing towards Elliot, who suddenly goes from acting snobby and nonchalant, to attempting to hide his dramatic trembling. He was shorter than Damian by more than a head, and if that wasn't enough, he was much less sculpted too. It didn't take a genius to figure out who went to the gym frequently and who didn't.

"Listen dust ball," Damian whispers something into Elliott's ear, in such a low voice that I can't make it out at all. Whatever it is, it makes him squeal and dash off in a hurry, drop something, and almost run into a streetlight.

We laugh, and I go down to see what 'dust ball' dropped. I grab it and bring it closer to Damian.

"Must be his camera- those are his initials." he says, pointing to the item's side. Sure enough, E.K is roughly marked on there. It looks like chicken scratch.

We glance at each other, then at the camera, then back at each other. Smirks appear on our faces.

"Now I wonder what's inside.."

I open the gallery as he stands beside me. Hopefully Elliot won't realised he dropped-

My smirk drops instantly.

Damian's leans closer.

The gallery's first few pictures are of us together.