The Boy I Can't Stand II
1643 Words
The muffled chirping of birds, the hush of wind on my leg… Suddenly, all my senses were woken up.
My head hurt and it stung more every time I blinked my eyes to try and compensate my lack of sleep and sobriety – my eyes that slowly opened and all I can see was my stinking dirty bag and a hint of light from a small opening just under my chin.
What time is it? f**k. I might have slept for too long. I rose from my position, feeling muscle pains at the back of my head, and letting my bag fall to my lap as I get up from the ground. I rotated my neck to ease the pain but to no avail. It used to work. It just didn’t today and I knew it was because of the hangover and the tight sleeping position I was in for God knows how long. When I turned to the side, I instantly frowned when I saw the kid sitting a few feet away from me, smiling like a f*****g cat. He was just sitting there, looking at me like a f*****g creep.
“Good morning?”
I squinted my eyes at him, unamused. “What the f**k are you still doing here? I told you to f*****g leave me alone.” I rolled my eyes and looked around. The field was full with football players now. That explains the loud whistle blows that woke me up, and the loud screams of the players during their games. Probably because it was noon already and I just f*****g ditched my other classes for real when I initially just planned to have a small nap. I’m screwed for good. I never slept this much before, my body was reacting very differently to that – it felt stiff and displeased with the amount of sleep I acquired. My body was naturally resisting this amount of sleep and prefers to be dead on the outside.
He flashed a warm smile. It was just as warm as the soup he gave me before I dozed off. “Come on. You can’t expect a guy to leave a girl here alone and unconscious. It’s far too dangerous.”
It was just like what he said a while ago, trying to defend himself while I laid on his comfortable bed that looked like it costed more than my food intake every month. I turned to him, his eyes were full of f*****g admiration – the kind of s**t I don’t particularly like. I returned the favor with angst and disgust. He reminded me so much of Connor and how much I despise him now. That f*****g bastard.
“Well,” Mark positioned to stand up. “Since you’re already awake, I’ll go now.” He looked down at me, smiled as he fixed his bag back to his back.
The more I looked at his stupid face, the more details I see. Like the fact that he had a f*****g enormous birthmark over his left cheek. It’s not even the normal brownish, creamy or dark colored birthmark you see from people, it was freaking red.
Red?
“Bye, Forest.”
Before he could even leave, I stood and stopped him by the arms. I leaned closer to his cheek and examined it closely. I don’t remember seeing this from the morning. It was stupid of me to think it was a birthmark. It looked like a fresh bruise that someone left for him.
I averted my gaze back to him. “Who.”
He let out a nervous chuckle, brushing my hand off and stepping away from me. “W-What do you mean, who?” He looked fazed that I asked. Anyone who’s sober, and my lack thereof, would know someone punched him in the face. He started covering the area where it was swollen and was constantly avoiding my gaze.
I started walking away, mumbling, “You like following people, don’t you?” I started, not turning back to face him. “This is that time you follow me.” I muttered and hoped he’d get the message and follow me like I said.
With a sigh, I walked towards the nearest convenient store the campus had to offer. He followed me. Of course, he did. That was the only thing he was good at. I could see him trailing behind me from my peripheral view. I opened the door and headed inside to find a pack of ice. I knew they sold those here. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have led him here.
When I got one, I raised it up to Tina, who was standing behind the counter. “Scratch this off for this month, thanks.” I said and she immediately knew, responding with a nod. The moment I stepped out of the store, I turned around to face Mark, throwing him the packet of ice. He fumbled and struggled to catch it at first, but he did. Almost juggling it from the struggle.
“What…”
“This is why you should stay away from a life you’re not used to.” I started and cut him off before he says anything that could potentially piss me off. “You don’t get involved with a f****d up person just because you like them. Adoration or love, or whatever, isn’t enough to choose a life that’s worse than what you have.” I said, pausing. “You’re smart.” I complimented. “You know what’s best for you. You know when to be practical and when to be logical. Right now, you’re ruining something you have just to pursue something that could break you apart.” I heaved a deep sigh, shaking my head, saying, “I can assure you this wouldn’t happen if you stopped insisting on sticking with me,” before walking away.
“You’re a risk I’m willing to take, Forest.”
I halted from my tracks. A risk.
“I wouldn’t pursue you like this if I wasn’t ready to take the consequences of wanting to risk it for you.”
I gulped. I was worried he was going to say that, and he did.
“Would you really call it love if you won’t risk anything for it?”
Fucking love. “f**k that,” I mumbled and walked away. Love is money. Love is using other people. Love is anything but those fantasies people assume it is. It’s never the happy endings, nor passionate. It all wears out when the other starts flicker out of the spark. It’s an illusion everyone fantasizes but never a reality.
Without much hesitation, I found myself heading towards the only place I knew I’d find him. They were all there. His entire gang, and girls they brought for their own entertainment. I walked inside, and stopped across the sofa they were sitting on. They were staying here like kings of their own castles. It was disgusting.
“If it isn’t Forest.” He greeted upon my arrival, standing to acknowledge my presence. “What can I do for you, beautiful mi—”
I landed a fist over his jaw before he could even finish his sentence. Everyone in the room gasped at my sudden violence towards Hunter. He brings his face back up, touching his jaw, still with a wide grin on his face.
He scoffed and met my eyes again. He looked crazy. “Is that how you greet an old friend back? I am very disappointed in you, dar—”
I punched him the second time.
The jeers from his circle of friends was louder.
“Yes. Were you expecting a kiss for a greeting?”
He brought his face back up again. Both his cheeks were red and bruised from the punch. I’m surprised he could still flash a f*****g smile after two punches. This man had so much pride in his system that he couldn’t even admit that I was practically ruining his perfect face that he loved so much. “I was expecting more than that.”
I scowled at his s****l remark before punching him for the third time. At this point, I wasn’t even worried if I was going to break his face. I would but Hunter had too much power in his hand. He could have a sniper come at me the next morning and I’d be dead before I could even step out of the house.
He spits to the side, scoffing at what I just did. “You’re getting too bold, Four.”
“When was I not?”
He gritted his teeth. “Would you mind explaining why I deserved those punches?”
I glared at him. “Your face is too handsome. It needs a little breaking,” I replied sarcastically. “You’re not giving the other guys a chance. Haven’t you f****d around with girls far too many times to want to keep doing it?”
He laughed like a mad man. “Oh, Four. Beautiful Four.” He mumbled, walking closer to me. He ran a finger down my jaws, tucking my hair to the back of my ear. “You know you’re the only one I wanna see next to me in the bed. I heard you got someone under your charms again.” He grinned. “What do you say we invite him over for another—”
I spit at his face before he could even say something that would made me go berserk.
He kept his eyes close, wiping his face with his hand and licking it after. “Delicious.” f*****g disgusting piece of s**t. “So it’s true.”
I intently glared into his eyes, gritting my teeth, and controlling myself not to land another punch on his face. “f**k off.”
- Writer
