Locket |kellic; boyxboy|

Who is She?

(Kellin's POV)

Vic was sitting in my car, staring out the window.

I'd offered to drive him to the café for dinner after school and he'd agreed. He didn't seem so enthusiastic though. I was worried, I really wanted to cheer him up. It didn't seem to be working. "Are you okay?" I asked timidly. "Yeah." He says plainly, chewing his gum as he spoke. He doesn't look at me.

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

"How was your day?"

"Boring."

"What did you do?"

"Work."

His voice stayed the same the entire time. I sigh heavily and speed up, pulling in front of the café. Something was fucking up and my day fucking sucked already, so this wasn't helping. We both exit the car and I lock the doors, glaring at the shorter boy in front of me.

We sit at the same table, then he immediately pulls his phone out.

I tilt my head, reaching my hand to touch his. He pulls his hand away. Either he's fucking pissy or I'm being a girl. I'd believe either. Vic had been distant lately and maybe this was just a mood. "Hey," I say quietly. He snaps his eyes from his phone and they lock on mine, not a bit of nervousness in his expression. He looked like he wanted to slaughter me right there.

"What the hell is wrong?"

"Who the hell is Jenna?"

My blood runs cold and I slide my hand back to my lap, feeling vomit burn my insides. "Who?" I say, voice shaking despite my efforts. Vic rolls his eyes, not phased. "Blonde. Accent. Great teeth. But you didn't feel those, right? She's talented." He grins, tapping his fingers on the table. I furrow my eyebrows, begging my cheeks not to turn red.

How the hell did he know?

"I know her but--"

"I know that part. Why are you fucking her then?" He says calmly, not looking phased by his own words. I want to spill my guts then and apologize over and over but for some reason, my brain won't allow it. "I'm not," I say quickly. Jesus, I've fucked up. "Plus, I don't think we should talk about this here."

The waiter approaches the table but Vic just crosses his leg over the other and raises an eyebrow. "Really," he says quietly, leaning forward. "Which is why you're sweating and blushing."

"What can I get you to drink, guys?" The blonde man asks. Vic goes to speak, a smart comment no doubt, so I cut him off. "Pepsi for both of us." Before Vic can counter what I said, the man saunters off.

"How many times?" He asks after a short pause. I fiddle with my hands in my lap, letting out a sigh. I didn't even mean for it to be more than once. Maybe he'll understand! Maybe he won't even-- Who the fuck am I kidding?

I shake my head and look at him again. He squints his eyes, "Tell me." I shake my head. "Do it or I'll walk home."

He knew I worried about him, and cared about him, and he was using that against me. He knew just what buttons to push. "Like," I sigh, looking out the window. "Not that many times. Only like five times."

"Not that many," he chuckles. "Right, okay. So I know you think you're all fucking slick or whatever, fucking who you please while you act like my damn therapist, but I don't do that. I'm genuinely always trying to listen and help and understand, but this isn't something I can quite get,"

The drinks are placed in front of us and I flinch, my breathing hitching. I hadn't even seen the guy approach the table. He walks away and Vic continues, not missing a beat. "I can deal with a lot. I can make it past fights or lies or a pissy mood," he looks at the table, edge in his voice fading. He wasn't just mad, he was generally upset. I felt my heart plummet and I wanted nothing more than to die in a hole.