What Happened in Winter [boyxboy]

Chapter Eight

Craft POV

River sat down at his desk next to Craft, nodding at something that bastard he punched yesterday said. Craft felt an overwhelming urge to leap over his desk and-

Wait, no. This wasn't how Craft was. He never handled anything with fists or a raised voice. He was an even-keeled guy who was good at settling arguments. That's why he had been elected class president when Jayson passed, taking the place that had always been his destined spot when Jay graduated. But now, the position felt... dirty and unrighteous. Craft felt like a half-assed, under-exposed replica of Jayson's reign; copying and pasting the same rules, guidelines, and morals Jayson had put in place. People still listened to Craft, though, and treated him with the same respect they did Jayson.

Craft needed to stop thinking about him.
He also needed to stop thinking overprotective thoughts about River.
And he needed to start worrying more about Greyson.

"Just text me after class. We'll go over the details later," River said, handing the kid his phone to put his number in. Craft noticed it was outdated and riddled with cracks. Craft narrowed his eyes in suspicion, darting his eyes up to the kid holding River's phone. Why was he talking to River? Didn't they just fight yesterday? Was it all just a big misunderstanding? It sure didn't look like a misunderstanding-

The kid gave River his phone back and flashed a smile and a thumbs up. River nodded and turned back to face the front of the room.

"Curiosity killed the cat, ya know," River said, his evil smile creeping up his lips. Craft sucked in a breath, having been caught staring. 'Please, God,' he pleaded, 'Just kill me now. Just smite me right here.'

"Hello? It's rude to stare and pretend you weren't doing anything," River chuckled. Craft squeezed his eyes shut and prayed harder, his big sun-tanned hands gripping each other tightly.

River looked around and poked Craft hard in the arm. "Wasn't it you that spoke to me first yesterday? Where's that class president charisma? You suck, you know that?"

Craft slowly looked up at River. His eyes were just as blue as before, but they didn't hide any bitterness today. "How do you know I'm class president?" Craft murmured.

"Just answer my question. Why were you staring?"

Craft looked away again, trying to calm his nerves. Why was he looking at River? Why did he feel... jealous? Craft's stomach dropped. 'No more jealousy, Craft. The last time you got jealous, you got hurt. You can't afford another fall.' Craft reasoned with himself.

"I was just curious as to what you two were talking about. You almost punched his lights out yesterday and I know you guys fought after school. And now you're exchanging phone numbers," Craft responded. It wasn't exactly a lie.

River didn't look like he bought it 100%, but it was enough. He pulled the collar of his hoodie up and he cleared his throat.

"Kyle just needs friends, I think. I think he's mean because nobody wants to be friends with him," River shrugged. "I feel bad for him."

Craft pondered what the boy next to him just said. "Maybe he should be positive to attract positive attention."

"Easy for you to say..." River whispered, lifting his black eyebrows and looking away.

Craft scoffed. "What makes you say that?"

River leaned forward in his seat, the plastic creaking with his movement. He braced a hand on the back of Craft's chair and cocked his head to the side, analyzing Craft. Craft realized he was two inches from his face, his hot breath heating Craft's cheeks. His eyes looked like they were made out of glass, his eyelashes like soft black threads on a hard-worn sweater. His lips were slightly apart, his tongue dancing across the back of his teeth.

Sweetly and evilly, River poured his seductively poisonous words over Craft. "Boys like you get everything they want. A nice house, a pretty family, a new car, a lovely friend like Greyson. It's no wonder 'being positive' fixes everything for you," River licked his full lips like Craft was a four course meal. "You have no idea how it feels to want to take everyone with you when you die."

Craft sat in shock as River shifted back to an appropriate distance. Craft's mouth moved, but no words would come out.

While is was true that Craft got most everything he wanted, it was only a ruse. His mother was stuck in a constant daydream and his father never came home. He just sent a pretty check home for his wife and son. Sometimes Craft wished... he wished...

"Maybe I miscalculated," River wasn't looking at Craft, but he still had an aggressive grin on his face. "Maybe you're just as fucked up as the rest of us."

"There's nothing wrong with me." Craft growled, his eyes like two hot orbs in his eye sockets.

River POV

'Shit,' River thought. 'Did I go too far?' While he would never show it on his face, he hadn't meant to push too many of Craft's buttons. He just wanted to prove a point.

While he was able to find a lot of dirt on Greyson, Kyle, and the late Jayson, River was able to find absolutely nothing on Craft Johnson. He was an anomaly. He had no social media and no traceable phone number. Not even an email. River chalked it down to someone being technologically illiterate, but River noticed the brand new iPhone in his lap and the outline of a thin laptop in his backpack. No, this kid wasn't dumb, he was just mysterious.

River's own words resonated in his head, 'Curiosity killed the cat.' Well, this cat had a few lives to spare on this specter.

"You don't know anything about me," Craft seethed between his teeth.

"We could always change that," River said.

"Huh?" Craft asked, his entire demeanor switched back to the slightly dumb, very clueless person River had first met.

"I'm saying we could be friends."

"Friends...? Wait, don't you hate me?" Craft asked.

River failed at subduing a giggle. Craft seemed so simple, but River knew there was something hiding beneath those broad shoulders and gold eyes. And he wanted to find what it was.

"Of course I don't hate you. I hate two people and neither are here right now," River replied.

"W-who-?" Craft started, but River cut him off, holding a hand up between them.

"Become my friend and you'll find that out in time. But, you'll never find out if you don't agree. So, what do you say? Friends?" River said, flipping his hand into an invitation for a hand shake.

Craft sighed. He looked like he was about to make a deal with the devil. He succumbed and hesitantly grasped River's hand. "Fine. We can be friends."

After the other boy agreed, River could've sworn he felt a spark ignite in their connected palms.