The Bad Boy and the Other Bad Boy

Chapter 6

I am portraying offensive stereotypes in the book because I am trying to send a message to people who actually believe in those stereotypes. I am in no way trying to offend anyone and I am so sorry if I do.

ROCCO

Every fibre of my body thrilled with adrenaline as I stared at the open window. I could hardly breathe. I slowly made my way over to my bed and sat down on it. Across from me on the wall, my reflection stared back at me in the darkness from my mirror. 

I slowly raised my hand to my lips, and it mimicked me. 

The guy in the mirror had just kissed Jax Wilson. 

A cold sweat had broken out over my whole body. Did this mean I was gay? I couldn't be gay. What the fuck. I'd dated so many girls. Girls were hot. Guys were not. 

But my mouth had just been up against Wilson's and his tongue had nearly been down my throat. There were probably still traces of his saliva on my lips. 

And he was a guy. 

Oh my god. It was probably just an accident or something, he was probably just looking to shake me - 

What if he wasn't? What if Jax Wilson was gay? 

What if Jax Wilson was hot for me? 

No. 

That's what he wanted me to think. He'd gone way over the top for this prank. The ultimate prank. 

What if I was hot for Jax Wilson? 

No. That is disgusting. I was not gay. 

Then how do you explain how I had reacted when he kissed me? 

My breathing sounded loud in the silence, my skin crawling. 

There was a guy at my school who was gay. He was skinny, hung out with girls, and wore makeup. My football team would always go out of their way to bump into him in the hallway and harass him.

That wasn't me. Was that who I was going to turn into? 

I wiped my lips hard as if I could wipe the gayness off of me. Maybe having a dude's saliva on my mouth would kickstart the change - oh my god. By tomorrow I would probably be a Gay Boy. 

-----

JAX 

My ears were ringing as I slid down the pipe, stumbling towards my bike, ferociously wiping my mouth on my sleeve. 

When I got to my bike, I slung my arm over the seat, crouched down, and dry-retched on the grass.

I lifted my head and rested my cheek against the cold metal of my bike, breathing hard.

Denver.

Denver.

Denver.

My hands shook as I rubbed my face.

Why the fuck did I kiss Denver.

Why the FUCK did I kiss Denver?! 

My stomach heaved again. I desperately rubbed my lips again, even though they were sore already. 

What the fuck made me do that!

He could destroy me. 

He could tell my dad, the gang, everyone at school. My face burned with horror. 

WHY DID I DO IT?!

I wasn't gay. I knew that. I'd done too many things with too many girls to be gay. I didn't like guys. Even the thought of kissing one made me want to throw up. 

Then why did I do it? And let alone Dickhead Denver? 

Fucking DENVER?!

He kissed me back though. Oh my fucking god, I never thought I would be thinking about this.

He did kiss me back. And not in a girly way. 

I pressed my bruised lips together, wincing. 

Maybe he wouldn't tell. Because, first off, no one would believe him or they would think he was kidding, and secondly because I had leverage on him too. I could say I kissed him as an experiment to see if he was gay.

Was he gay?

No, Rocco Denver could never be gay in the same way I couldn't be gay. I'd heard the girls talk about how good he was in bed -  wish I hadn't - but from what I'd heard he was quite well known with them.

Was Denver good in bed? 

I stood up abruptly to cut off my line of thought, slamming on my helmet. I straddled my bike and roared off down the quiet dark street, hoping my bike would drown out the sound of blood rushing in my ears. 

----------

I'd never felt dread like this coming into school. This must be what all the nerds and the bullied kids feel like everyday - I'd never been one of them in my life.  I kind of wanted to just leave - just ditch school - what was one more day? 

But that wasn't how I dealt with shit. Jax Wilson went through, not around. 

I took off my helmet slowly, glad that Ryan wasn't with me for once. He'd immediately know that something was up. 

I gazed around the people walking into school. I was getting a few glances but nothing out of the ordinary - you got stares when you looked like me and were the next in line for the Cobra Kingdom - which was not just because of my dad, ok? 

I sucked in my cheek. Maybe he hadn't told everyone yet. 

In the hallway, I stared back at anyone who stared at me - they immediately looked down when I did. I tried not to feel relief when I saw my locker - plain, boring, and not spray-painted with the word "FAG". Then I was pissed - imagine someone doing that to me. And if they did - imagine me caring. 

I felt like I was on high alert but also like everything was muffled and blurry as I made my way through the halls. I went through the motions - dap my homies up, wink at the right girls, annoy and charm the right teachers - but my brain was somewhere else.  

So when I saw him - surrounded by his usual group of dumb friends - it was like someone had thrown of bucket of ice water over my head. I could feel him being there, like his body is giving off heat from the other side of the hallway - like if I closed my eyes I'd still know where he was. 

I forced myself to keep walking as his eyes flashed to mine and a second bucket of water was dumped over my head. I forced myself to be slow, force my eyes to be cold, forced myself to look like I didn't feel him being there at all. 

He looked shocked. Shocked that I was at school. Shocked that I could still make eye contact with him. Shocked that he was making eye contact with me. 

Finally, I forced my eyes away. The last thing I saw were his wide eyes, some girl tugging on his sleeve as I turned away - feeling his gaze burning on my back.