Pretty Boy [bxb] | ✔️

Chapter seven: A wink and a smirk

𝘼 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙠

As a way of celebrating Luca's award for his soccer, a ticket to a scholarship to Stanford which he is working so hard to get, my family decides to go out for dinner.

I'm honestly not in the mood for it today. To be honest, I'm never really in the mood for it, which I blame on my anxiety. But I have to be today because my brother deserves it. As much as we never talk to each other, I could see how hard he's working to make sure he gets that scholarship, and his reaction to the award was so elated. I still hold love towards him too.

I'm trying hard not to think about Alex tonight, pushing all the things he had said to me over the past couple of days to the back of my head and covering it with the pride I had for my brother. But my frustration at his arrogance manages to peak through and overwhelm me until I can't push it back down again.

It's the evening now, the horizon is beginning to swallow the sun as I sit on the couch, staring at the T.V. screen, but not quite knowing what I'm watching as my mind keeps drifting off to different things. Alex, tutoring, my identity. The situation I'm in fucks with me quite a bit and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

The house is noisy, filled with the bustling of movements from my family hurrying to get ready before we miss our reservation.

"Eva, did you take my shirt again?!" I hear Sofia scream from upstairs.

This is followed by a, "No, I didn't!" from Eva.

I chuckle because I know Eva is lying. I don't snitch on her when this exact argument happens, about once a week, as I find listening to it pretty amusing when I know the truth myself. The petty fight that happens after Sofia finds out that Eva is lying is even more entertaining.

This is what this house is like every time we go out. Chaos. It's one of the consequence of being a big family.

Luca comes downstairs, eyes fixed on the screen of his phone, wearing a button-down white shirt and dark fitted jeans, which matches the colour of his sneakers. He sits down next to me on the couch, and I instantly feel awkward. We don't sit next to each other very often these days. I don't know how to act.

"Hey," he says absentmindedly, the light from his phone still hitting his face.

"Hi."

Silence.

I search my brain for something to say.

"So, do you think you're going to get the scholarship?" I choose to ask, tapping my forefingers together.

"Yeah," he replies dismissively, and I question why I even bothered to ask. I can see a smile slightly etched on his face, and at first I think it's because I asked him that question, but then he shoves his phone in my face, asking, "Doesn't he look gay?"