Cold and Charisma (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Two

As I continued to walk down the street, I began to hear a stampede of footsteps trailing behind me. "Yo, wait up!" Carter called, jogging to catch up and walk alongside me, out of breath from running. I turned to look at his face, beads of perspiration running down his forehead. "You really gonna make me chase after you like that?"

"Seriously?" I couldn't help but chuckle. "I didn't make you do anything," I said, my eyes returning to the sidewalk. "And why are you walking with me today? Don't you usually take a car?" I asked, curious. It wasn't like him to want to walk with me to school – he usually took a Maybach.

"Well, no shit, but I just wanted to walk with you so I can see the new Russian girl – she's in your first period, yeah?" he said, adjusting his tie as he walked beside me.

"Yeah, so what?" I replied casually.

Carter scoffed loudly. "So what? You're gonna be the first to see her, man! You're showing her around school, aren't you?"

I sighed loudly. Carter and the rest of the jocks at Saint Arthur's were always so keen on girls, constantly coming to me for advice. "I am. Calm down, Carter – I'll let you know how it goes, alright?" I said, wanting to get him off my back.

"Whatever," he muttered, pulling something out of his suit jacket pocket.

My eyes darted from his pocket to the apple he produced, then back to the path ahead. "Didn't have breakfast?" I jeered playfully. It was a bad habit of his.

"Oh, fuck off," he retorted, biting into the apple. "Oh, and," he struggled to say, mouth full, "Drew told me what happened yesterday. I can't believe people have the audacity to talk to you that way. That kid's lucky he ran into you – if it were me, he'd be dead by now."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Violence isn't always the answer, y'know."

Carter looked at me, trying to hold back a laugh. "Hah, funny. Anyways..."

I zoned out as we kept talking. But I couldn't stop thinking about the kid now that Carter had brought him up. Was he from around here? Surely not – he was extremely pale, and considering that it's California, he had to be a foreigner. Or maybe he was new? For some reason, I couldn't get him out of my mind as we continued to walk.

"Hey, are you even listening, dude?" Carter asked, his eyebrows knitted in annoyance.

"Yeah, I am. Keep talking," I lied.

He continued to talk, taking random pauses to eat his apple. "Sometimes I wish I was Russian, not gonna lie," he said. "Imagine being named Vladimir Smirnov or something – isn't that so cool?"

A chuckle escaped my lips, and I looked at him with an amused grin. "Where'd Vladimir come from?"

He gave me a determined look. "No, you don't get it! It's better than American names, just think about it." He nudged me, trying to make his point again.

"Yeah, okay, Carter Scott," I mocked, poking fun at his very American name.

Before we knew it, we had arrived at the steps of our private school and joined the crowds of students flocking into the entrance. The bell rang loudly, signaling the start of the first period. I patted Carter on the back before heading upstairs for my class. In the halls, I waved to familiar faces and made small talk, never failing to put on a friendly smile as I conversed with my friends.

School was a place where I was known, and liked, and that made it easy for me to get through long semesters. I've never had to deal with any sort of criticism from anybody at Saint Arthur's – in fact, I don't remember the last time anyone here has been even the tiniest bit disrespectful to me. Not that I'm complaining.