Fixing Nico [boyxboy / yaoi]

Ch 10 - At Least There Weren't Any Knuckle Dusters...

*WARNING* I apologise in advance for any swearing and offensive language, I'm simply trying to make this as realistic as possible. 

~CHRISTIAN~ 

Her name is Zoe Annerleigh-Simms. She's seventeen, 168 centimetres tall and has skin the colour of honey, her eyes are dark, deep chocolate pools and her hair is an almost-black cascade of illustrious, dark waves.

And I'm sick of her already.

'And so I was like, like… Oh my God, you know? Because seriously, I mean, who the fuck does that bitch think she is…' The incessant gossiping in itself was enough to send me over the edge as Zoe leaned towards the bleach-blonde girl, whose name I'd recently discovered was Ashley, puckering her perfect lips as she cussed enthusiastically about some girl and some guy I didn't know and something about the back seat of a Toyota Corolla. 

How the hell do guys put up with this? I thought desperately, casting a suspicious glance Chase, who was in the front seat of this car with his hands on the steering wheel, gazing absently out the windscreen, probably wondering what was going to be for dinner tonight. 

Oh, yeah, I mused wryly, Sex. The hopeful promise of sex. That, I was sure, was the only reason that practically all guys my age put up with this unrelenting babbling.

'That slut!' Ashley cried, scandalised. 

'IKR!' Zoe scoffed, rolling her eyes before suddenly turning her sensual, dark gaze on me. 'Ever met her, Christian?'

I blinked, having been suddenly pulled from my philosophising. 'Um… who?'

'Emma Whitburn, obviously,' Zoe replied with yet another eye-roll. When I shook my head, she shrug her shoulders and carried on - 'consider yourself lucky, then. She'd probably give you an STD.'

'Oh… yeah…' I cleared my throat awkwardly, cringing at my loss of words - I was usually confident when it came to girls… what's going on with me? 'She sounds like a massive slut,' I said earnestly, just to humour Zoe.

She seemed satisfied with my response. 'She is.'

Ashley and Zoe had been yammering on about this one girl ever sine Chase pulled into her driveway and she slid on the backseat next to me, one hand placed protectively over my right knee. I did nothing to counter her touch, though - she would've only gotten pissed off.

'We're here, guys!' Chase announced as the car sailed easily into a beach-front parking spot. Killing the engine, Chase hopped out, followed by Ashley (who circled around the bonnet to stand loyally at his side) and Zoe, who beckoned for me to follow. 

I made a noise in the back of my throat that was somewhere in the midst of a growl and a sigh as I yanked open the door and joined the small group, who had congregated in front of Chase's Dad's beat-up car, heads bent inwards as they whispered amongst themselves seedily. 

Before them, the brilliant, green-blue ocean swept out across the horizon - dotted figures bobbled in the whitewash, a bit farther out, past the break, miniature surfers floated carelessly on the deep, emerald water, heads propped up by their arms as they awaited the perfect wave. In the distance across the beach, out of the mist rose the looming Ferris Wheel and the tracks of other roller coaster rides, snaking across the skyline. Behind us, people milled around the shopfronts - most with wet hair and shirts turned damp by the swimmers underneath and legs browned, hair bleached from the constant, streaming sunlight.

A picture-perfect Australian stereotype. The view looked worthy of a postcard.

Grinning, Zoe undid the top button if her denim short-shorts and slid them down her thighs, exposing the stringy red bikini bottoms she's been hiding underneath. 'Well?' she laughed as she stuffed the shorts in her bag, 'what are you waiting for? I want to get in the water.'