The Alpha's Instinct (Boyxboy)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sam

I trudged alongside Dallas, absentmindedly picking up whatever mystery meat the lunch ladies were giving out today. Dallas was pouting at his egg salad, presumably still upset that Issac had pulled Troye out of his grip and over to sit with the soccer boys on account of their state final today. Not that Dallas was physically touching him, but the distance between them—or lack there of—was tight enough for people to notice. And Issac hated that.

All day Issac had a tight grip on Troye’s arm, insisting they do everything together for “team bonding.” Every time Troye and Dallas were together, Issac “needed” Troye for something. To be honest it was probably just to spite Dallas because Issac hated him. And Dallas knew it too because the dislike radiated off Issac so much that werewolves could sense it. We could feel his aura, I guess. I don’t know man, werewolf shit confuses me.

Dallas and I slammed our treys down on the table alongside the lunches of the pack. We sat down, the boys already chowing down and elbowing each other like every other day. I glanced over at Dallas who was viciously stabbing tater tots with his fork as his glare narrowed on Issac across the cafeteria. He had has arm slung lazily around Troye’s shoulder and they were both laughing as one of their teammates snorted red jello through his nose. Typical high school.

I distractedly chewed my third Pb and J as I took in my surroundings, as per usual. My eyes found the soccer table and one of the cuter players—I think his name was Ethan—had set up a giant speaker on top of their lunch table and was busy fumbling with his phone, presumably trying to play music. I chuckled to myself. These kids were dead. Three of the toughest teachers in the school monitored this lunch period just for that reason.

As soon as I decided to look away, music started pounding through Ethan’s speakers and a resounding applause went up around the cafeteria. Dallas had stopped eating and his eyes were zeroed in on the scene going on across from us. I propped my feet up on Troye’s empty chair and leaned back, ready to enjoy the show.

Coach Housten had marched over to Ethan, demanded he pause the music, and then engrossed himself in an animated discussion with the table and I’m guessing it wasn’t about soccer. Ethan was pleading with him and Housten began rubbing his face in an “I’m too old for this” kind of way. He then said something quickly and Ethan jumped up to high-five the kid sitting next to him. Dallas and I exchanged a wary glance. Seriously?

Ethan began scrolling through his phone again and as soon as he found what he was looking for, he gestured at Troye and Issac and then all three of them proceeded to stand on top of their lunch table as “Fancy” by Iggy Azalea rang throughout the room.

Students cheered again and I watched as Dallas stood up straighter in his seat, his eyes eagerly latched on to Troye.

Ethan took center, standing further ahead of the other two. The first line of the song began and Ethan mouthed along to the words, shaking his body provocatively.

First thing's first, I'm the realest

Drop this and let the whole world feel it

And I'm still in the Murda Bizness

I could hold you down, like I'm givin' lessons in physics

At this point Ethan had stepped back and pushed Troye forward, who of course had been shaking his hips along with the song. He took the center and mouthed the words the same way Ethan did.