The Bad Boy and the Other Bad Boy

Chapter 15

ROCCO

My thoughts were spiralling, as they often did these days. 

All I could think of was sea-glass eyes and golden skin

slender, strong hands lifting a drink bottle to wet lips

slicked back hair

and those eyes again

 wide-eyed and surprised, or lazy, or cold.

I stared up at the ceiling. My bed was soft, but I didn't feel like sleeping.  

The way he spoke to me. There was no way he didn't know what he was doing. He was such a - such an asshole. Like if you asked everyone in school to vote for a king asshole he would be crowned.

I had come out to my parents, all confident, but I wasn't actually comfortable with it. With myself. 

What kind of fucking loser thinks about Jax Wilson like this?

Many losers do, I reminded myself. 

But not me. Not Rocco Denver. 

Rocco Denver couldn't be gay. 

But then I thought of damp brown eyelashes and flexing muscles and I was spiralling again. He would have my vote.

There was no way though. I didn't want to wear makeup, or some shit like that. I wasn't transgender - there was no way in hell I wanted to be a girl. I felt fine as this Rocco Denver. I didn't want to change him. 

I let my internal monologue go on for a few more moments before I sat up, swinging my legs around. 

I got changed quickly, slinging my heavy black Wolverines jacket over my shoulders, then I was out the window. 

I couldn't help remembering him climbing in that night, drunk and slightly crazed. I shoved those thoughts out of my head, careful to be quiet as I climbed down the pipes. 

I wheeled my bike a little way away from my house so the start-up wouldn't be heard. It is actually possible to ride motorbikes a lot quieter than I usually do. I sped down the darkened streets of my neighbourhood, wind cooling my face between the gaps in my helmet. This was it, it really was - riding my bike alone at night, helmet over my face so if anyone I knew saw me they wouldn't recognise me. 

I was speeding, I knew I was, but I was on a straight road. 

When I pulled up at Rio's girlfriend's house, the blasting music and flashy lights were good at blocking out my thoughts as well. As I neared the front of her house, Rio threw open the door and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. He reeked of sweat, alcohol, and smoke. He was holding a joint between his fingers, which he offered to me. I took it in my lips, sucking in the smoke, feeling my lungs expand with it. 

"Our boy!" He yelled to a crowd near the kitchen. "Our boy Rocco's here!" 

A cheer went up, half from people I didn't know. I grinned, embarrassed. 

Rio leaned towards me, shouting over the music. "Do you know, when you went on holiday, I thought Wilson had kidnapped you! We went and hassled him about it!" 

My eyes widened, then I laughed. Like properly laughed, for the first time in ages. "You dumb bitch!" I yelled back to Rio, then slapped him on the back and headed outside towards the pool. The light was reflecting up from the water, scattered across the house's property walls. Some Wolverine guys had set up a table for beer pong, and there was a bong being shared under a large tree to the side. 

I breathed in the scent of weed and sweat and chlorine, and then someone in a black leather jacket grabbed me and shoved a ping pong ball in my hand, pushing me towards the beer pong table.