Chapter 13

ROCCO

I didn't think it could get much worse than this. I could hear my parents downstairs, setting up for guests - my dad had come home and my parents had talked in low voices then acted like everything was normal - I guess that they didn't want my sister to find out yet.

Nothing made sense.

My father had cheated on my mother, I was gay, and Jax Wilson turned me on. And now I had to go and smile and eat and laugh with whatever randoms my mother had decided to invite. Why now, of all times?

I knew why, actually - my mother was focusing on me so she didn't have to deal with my father.

My mother burst into my room, looked at me, then sighed. I was sitting there staring at the wall in the t-shirt and sweats I woke up in.

"Rocco! They're coming in fifteen minutes! Don't you want to make a good impression?"

No, I thought.

She hauled me to my feet and shoved me towards the bathroom.

"Shower, " she ordered, then left, slamming the door behind her.

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I rubbed my eyes, then ran a hand through my wet hair. My family was gathered around the entrance - the Richardsons had just pulled into the driveway. I could hear their voices on the other side of the door, then my mother was pulling the door open and greeting them as a blast of cold evening air swept over us. I bit back a yawn as the Richardsons were ushered into our house, then raised my eyebrows and put a welcoming grin on my face. My mother introduced us to her colleague, a tall, slim, Chinese woman, and her shorter white husband who waved and grinned in a kind of dopey dad way. Her daughter, the one my mother had wanted me to meet, was beautiful - I had to give her that. She wore a shimmery golden dress that showed off her wide hips, and her gleaming dyed blonde hair was cut to her chin. Bangs covered her forehead. She stared at me, her irises covered with green contact lenses, her mouth open slightly. I was instantly self-conscious - did she have a gay-dar or something? Apparently girls had gay-dars.

I shook my head slightly - it was still weird to think about.

She blinked, then offered me her hand - I'd never had a girl do that. I took it, and the numerous rings on her fingers clinked.

I grinned widely.

"Hey, I'm Rocco. " I said.

"Sirena. " She smiled.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother raise her eyebrows at me pointedly. My jaw clenched and a surge of annoyance went through me.

Sirena cleared her throat - I was still holding her hand, distracted as I was by my mother.

"Oh, sorry. " I said, releasing her hand.

For some reason, as I turned around, I thought I saw her smile. Weird.

The night passed, with me answering questions about my life and school from her parents and Sirena staring at me strangely. I wondered if they were asking that many questions because they had the same motive as my mother - pairing me up with Sirena. Her mom had looked strict from the start, but she was quickly reinforcing my idea of her - and even the puppy-dog dog had turned into some sort of police interrogator.

"So. Any girls in your life?" He said, his tone teasing.

My eyebrows went up. Wow. I had been paired up with a girl and her family like this before, but it didn't stop the surge of annoyance.

I flicked a furious glance at my parents - my father's face was apologetic, while my mother sat as stiff as a statue, staring straight ahead.

I turned my gaze back to Mr Richardson. "No, actually. I don't have a girlfriend. "

Because you like boys, my brain said.

He smiled even wider. "Why not? Handsome young man like yourself. Do you... prefer to have casual - ?

He trailed off, hoping I would finish the sentence.

The annoyance surged again. Firstly, I'd never actually heard someone say "handsome young man like yourself" in real life, and secondly, don't these boomers have any boundaries or respect when they talk to young people? Who the hell asks that the first time you meet someone?

Everyone's eyes were fixed on me, waiting for my answer - apart from my sister. She was playing Minecraft on the iPad hidden under the table.

I looked around slowly, my anger building. I didn't get angry often - but with recent events I felt like this was too much.

"I'm not really comfortable sharing that. " I said, staring straight at Mr. Dopey Dog.

Something like embarrassment flashed across his face, then he leant back, the stupid grin returning. "Of course. I'm sorry. "

Silence ensued, then my mother, the heroine, managed to get normal chatter to resume.

I was still angry, however. I forced my leg to stop bouncing, my fists to unclench, then stood up.

"Wow, time flies! It's been great meeting you, Mr and Mrs Richardson, and you too, Sirena. I'm so sorry to leave, but I promised my friend I'd pick him up. "

I could feel my mother's glaring on the side of my face, but I knew she wouldn't say anything - fighting in front of guests was prohibited.

We did some more smiling and nodding and saying nice to meet you, and then I was out of the living room and down the stairs into the cool garage. My cars lights lit up as I unlocked it. It was such a relief to sit in my car as the garage door lifted up, the cool blues of the evening greeting me. Luckily I had some gym gear in the back, so I drove to school.  Coach stayed late on Saturdays as the basketball girls had practice.

The gym's lights were bright compared to outside and I squinted for a second.

Coach waved at me from the other side of the court, the sounds of basketballs bouncing off the ground, squeaks from shoes, and shouts from the girls team echoing around the large area.

I raised my hand to wave back.

The gym's lights were on. I frowned. I was usually the only one at this time. I could hear the thud of running feet and the whirr of the running machine. I rounded the corner in the gym then abruptly turned around and walked back behind the wall.

Fucking JAX WIILLLLSON.

My eyes were wide, my hands clenching into fists. I felt like punching something. In the brief glance I had had, he was wearing ear buds so he wouldn't have heard me. I could just keep walking, just get back into my car.

But...

I slowly stepped out a bit farther around the wall.

Sweat gleamed on his face and neck, and his hair was slicked back with it. He looked like he'd been running a while, high colour on his cheeks. I watched his muscles flex and relax as he ran. He was breathing hard. He reached out and turned the speed down until he was just walking, then before I could turn away he pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face.

I bit the inside of my cheek hard.

He had abs now.

His shoulders tapered to narrow hips - his skin looked beyond smooth, gleaming with sweat. His muscles clenched and unclenched as he breathed. He had a definite v-line leading down, down, past the waistband of his shorts.

The last time I'd seen him shirtless was years ago when we were still friends - before puberty.

I was so focused on his body that I didn't move when he lowered his shirt. I froze at the same time he did, his eyes meeting mine.

He looked younger, at that moment, his eyes wide and shocked, greener than sea-glass. His hands were still in his shirt, over his mouth.

I couldn't stop the heat creeping up my cheeks. I had never been so glad of my darker skin tone in that moment.

Then his eyes slitted and his hands lowered, and Wilson was back. He reached down to the treadmill to stop it's motion, and the gym is silent.

"Denver, " He said, his voice low and lazy despite having just been running. "Do I have a stalker?"

I could only stare.

"What were you looking at, Denver?" He asked softly, his mouth curving.

I snapped myself out of it, going over to put my bag down. I unzipped my sports jacket and chucked it on top of my stuff, preparing to stretch.

"Nothing to see. " I muttered.

"What'd you say?" He grinned, getting off the treadmill and unscrewing his water bottle.

I stretched my arms up over my head. "Nothing to see." I said louder.

My stomach jumped his eyes trailed down to where my shirt had lifted up, leaving part of my abdomen exposed.

His eyes moved back up to mine as he put the nozzle of the drink bottle in the corner of his mouth then squeezed it. He swallowed his mouthful of water and didn't reply.

His eyes didn't leave mine until he rounded the corner to the changing rooms.

I chose a treadmill far away from the one he had been using, hearing the sounds of a shower starting up.

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