Slivered (Boyxboy)

Chapter 13 : Quantum of Solace

Slivered

Breathe in, breathe out.

Just breathe, Alex.

"Everything will be fine." I mumble to myself, glancing at my petite figure in the mirror.

There are bruises, some are hidden, some are not. Purple marks are to be seen scattered all over my insanely pale skin. I look bleary, no doubt everyone is trying to pass me looks of concern and sympathy. If only I could help myself get out of the situations I am in right now, I would. But, I can't, I am stuck. It almost feels like I'm being held prisoner in a murky dungeon guarded by vicious monsters. One wrong move and I'll probably get the worst of it.

I hear the comfort room door bust open and Jack comes in sight. He rapidly notices me and cracks up a smirk, a cheeky one. I diffidently ignore his stare and his existence as much as possible. I don't really want to deal with him right now, I have enough problems and he'll only add up to them. However, he is either too insensitive or ignorant to understand that, isn't he?

"Vas happenin', fag."

I cringe at the way he said his words. Does he think that saying "what's happening" like that is cool? Apparently, yes.

"Ditching classes now, huh? I didn't think you had it in you." He nudges my side.

Weird, Jack is acting unusual. Or he's just being bipolar? One moment he's ready to beat the living daylight off me, the next he is all smiles and being friendly. Something is wrong.

"Excuse me," Jack says as he reaches for the tissue holder beside me. Okay, something is definitely wrong.

Jack never excuses himself. If someone or something is on his way, it's either he rudely asks for them to move away or he shoves them simply. That is the Jack I know, not this canty bastard who thinks we can be friends after trying to constantly destroy my life all these years.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I ask, confused as to why he's acting all merry.

He chuckles. Of all the fucking responses he can give me, a chuckle. The soft laughs soon turn into loud ones. Now, I'm really weirded out and scared at the same time. Is he crazy?

"What?" I spat.

"Nothing, it's just that you look absolutely funny when you're frustrated. You get all red and stuff." I do?

Ignoring the fact that I, indeed, am as red as a tomato, I continue. "You did not answer my question."

Jack shrugs, "Nothing, just not in the mood to beat your fag ass."

"That's something new, never knew that you actually have to be in a mood to bully someone."

"Consider yourself lucky today, Hall. I'll probably be in the mood tomorrow and I'm going back to whooping you as usual." He calmly states, a hint of humor in his voice.

I roll my eyes, "Sure."

He ignores my comment and begins fixing the brown leather jacket that's fitted for him quite perfectly. This is one of the rare times I've seen Jack not be in his usual clothes, simple black tees and his signature maroon varsity coat.

I remember him wearing this jacket on Halloween, our encounter that time wasn't really that pleasant to be repeatedly reminded of. I'm still having goosebumps whenever I recall the incident, it is that gross. He does not even remember any of it, but I do. And it still haunts me at night, that Jack Christensen, the homophobic jock, once tried to hook up with me.

I didn't notice that I have been staring at him for quite long, it was too late when I tried to look away. He scrunches up his eyebrows, likely muddled as to why I'm staring. But as we lock gazes, Jack's grin immediately turns into a frown.