Blurred Lines [BxB] COMPLETED

0.01

0.01 - Friday 11:52 p.m

Maverick Bale

Why am I here?

Okay, I know exactly why I'm here. Beverly fucking Jameson stole my best friend.

"Need a drink?" Jackson asks. I don't reply right away. Maybe because I'm so used to Rhys asking me, or maybe because the lights are hitting Jackson's eyes in the right way.

"Sure." Jackson claps his hand on my shoulder, his touch lingering and his mouth curving in an amused smile. Yeah, I definitely need a drink.

The party starts to pick up. People flood the living room, most of them I don't know because they don't go to Hilltop, like Jackson, who attends Northview, a preppy all boys school for rich kids and geniuses. I don't know which Jackson is yet, but I have a feeling it's not going to be either.

"Here," Jackson says, returning with a red solo cup. I take it warily. Catching my look, Jackson smiles. "Don't worry, I prefer boys that aren't passed out."

My head snaps up. Jackson smirks, then walks away when someone calls his name, melting into a new throng of teenagers.

I should be grossed out. Or at least uncomfortable. Rhys would be. Instead I want to track him down and pin him against the wall. And then wonder how he could tell.

My hand brings the cup up to my lips, and the alcohol burns a welcome trail down my throat, pooling into my stomach.

"Hey Mav!" I turn around to the rest of my lacrosse team entering the house, led by Alex, one of the better players. "Where's Rhys? I thought you guys were a package deal."

I scowl. "He's with Beverly."

Behind Alex, Cole grimaces. "Poor Rhys."

"Whatever. It's not like he was forced into it," I say bitterly. My teammates laugh, clearly finding the whole situation more amusing than I do. I swallow the rest of my drink, then follow Alex and Cole to the backyard. Music erupts from the poolside where a speaker balances on a colorful pool chair.

"Guys, look what I brought," Alex says quietly. We all huddle towards the back of the yard, eager to see what tonight has in store. "My older brother gave me some." He pulls out a plastic bag containing a few tiny, white pills. Alex always has some shit with him.

"What is it?" Cole asks.

"I don't know the name, but it's good. Promise," Alex says. Cole grins, his eyes lighting up like a little kid on Christmas morning. The rest of the team stirs restlessly.

For some reason, doing this without Rhys doesn't feel right.

"Nah man, I think I'll pass tonight," I say. Alex rolls his eyes.

"Well, when you get over your boyfriend, you know where to find me," Alex says. My jaw clenches.

"Rhys isn't my boyfriend," I say. Usually when I'm teased about how close Rhys and I are, it doesn't bother me. But tonight it makes me irritated.

"Relax. Go get another drink," Cole says, noticing my annoyance.

"Yeah, I think I will," I say. With my hands in fists I turn around and head back inside. I find the kitchen after a few minutes of wandering through the crowds. There are no more unused cups on the counter, and I almost start rummaging through the cabinets when someone calls my name. I turn around to Jackson walking towards me with an infuriating grin.

"Need another?" he asks, holding up a bottle of vodka.

"Fuck yes," I say, holding out my cup. He pours the clear liquid in with a smaller, intent smile. I down the contents fast, wincing at the burn.

"No girl tonight?" he asks. I shake my head. A week ago, I would've said Megan, or maybe Taylor, girls who are definitely interested in me. But not tonight. Not when Rhys is off with Beverly doing God-knows-what, and not when Jackson is looking at me like that.

"And you? Got your eye on anyone?" I ask. Someone as attractive as him probably gets a lot of attention.

Jackson smiles. "Yeah, I do."

"You go to Northview, right?" I say, changing the subject. Jackson nods. "Play any sport?"

"Soccer," Jackson says, and I stiffen. Rhys plays soccer. "Want to see something?"

My insides prickle in warning. "Yeah, sure."

We push through the crowds and up the staircase. Fucking hell, is he taking me to a room? I've never kissed a boy before, but I just might if Jackson tries anything.

"This room," Jackson says, pushing open the first door on the left. He turns on the lights, illuminating a small bedroom with a Queen size bed in the middle and book shelves and drawers neatly lining the perimeters.

He leads me to the book shelves that I now see are filled with picture frames. Most of them portray a young boy holding a soccer ball under his arm. A boy that looks startlingly similar to—

"Wait, this is your room?" I ask, glancing to Jackson. He smiles, and I catch myself staring a little too long at his dimple.

"Yeah, it's my house too. Well, my parents' house," Jackson says. He swipes a hand through his dark hair, and suddenly all I can see is how similar he is to Rhys.

I take a deep breath and turn to leave. "I should go back—" I break off when Jackson's hand encloses on my wrist. He's staring at me with an intense desire, all amusement gone.

He takes a step closer to me. Well, now I know why he goes to Northview.

"Look, Maverick, I'm not stupid," Jackson says. His hand drops my wrist, but he comes close enough for me to smell his cologne.

"Good to know," I say jokingly, followed by embarrassing, shaky laughter. Jackson leans his head forward.

"Don't you want to try...?" he asks, tantalizingly soft, so I have to lean closer to hear. My eyes flicker to his lips, parted and inviting. For a moment I think of Rhys, and what he would think. But Rhys isn't here, is he? I move closer without realizing it, until our lips brush, and Jackson's slim hand slides around my neck.

The next few seconds happen too quickly; the door opens, someone gasps, and a light flashes.

I shove Jackson away and look towards the open door, but it's already too late, and the entryway is vacant.

"Rhys," I whisper under my breath, because despite everything, he's all I'm worried about.