Chapter 19

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JAX

Back at school, Denver's ex-girlfriend glared at him from across the classroom, while the rest of the guys in the class - including me - stared at her.

I let my eyes drift lazily between them. I had missed my chance of revealing that I had slept with his other ex-girlfriend Mallory, but maybe this was how to get to him.

Get the girl who dumped him.

As soon as Ms Finnegan dismissed us to "do our work", I got and and slid into the empty seat beside her.

I leaned sideways, towards her. "He's ugly, isn't he. " I whispered conspiratorially to her.

She visibly jumped, eyes widening in shock as she turned to me. Her eyes gave me a once over and I grinned.

"What?" She said.

"Denver. He's ugly, right?"

She stared at me for a moment longer, then her lips curled up into a smile that looked like she had practised it in front of a mirror for ages.

"Right. " She said.

"He's got a weird nose. And weird ears. " I observed, then turned to her. "What do you think?"

She turned back to look at Denver, her smile slipping. "Yes. He's...got...bad hair. And his eyes are not even that pretty. "

I smirked. "What else?"

She was on a roll now. "His hands aren't even that sexy. His teeth... they could be whiter. His smile is overly cocky. "

"Correct. You seem like a smart girl. " I said. "What's your name?"

The smile was back as she turned to me. "Sirena. What's yours?"

"Jax Wilson. "

Her mouth opened in astonishment. "You're Jax Wilson! I've heard a lot about you. "

I saluted her. "All good things, I'm sure. "

She nodded, staring at me. "Mm. Very good. "

She snapped herself out of it. "Well, Jax Wilson, you just saved my day. I think I'd like you to be my guide around the school. "

I turned away slightly, raising my eyebrows. Who did she think she was?

Ah, fuck. The things I did to get under Denver's skin.

"Yeah. I can guide you to the nearest janitor's closet. " I turned back to her, my eyes slitted, trying not to smile.

She composed herself, her cheeks red. She tilted her head, tongue going to her cheek. "I'm looking forward to a very educational tour, then. "

As soon as the bell rang, we were out the door and I slipped a hand around her waist pulling her towards the nearest janitor's closet - I had a mental map of them around the school.

Once we were inside, with the door locked, our lips met immediately.

I felt the familiar shock of kissing a stranger for the first time, and her lips were smooth and soft. She smelt good as well, like vanilla or something. She hardly kissed back, but most girls didn't really.

I opened my eyes, glancing around the small closet, which was lit by weak fluorescent lights. The smell of bleach polluted the air.

One of her arms slid around my back and pulled me closer. I wished Denver was here to see this. The other hand moved up to the back of my neck and then into my hand.

I winced.

What the hell was wrong with me? That was usually one of my favourite things a girl could do.

My head began to swim with panic. Why didn't I want this?

The sound of our lips moving together and her perfume was making me nauseous.

I couldn't take anymore.

I pushed her off me, and she drew back immediately. She was smiling, out of breathed.

"Wow, " I said, perfectly composed myself. "Um, that was, wow. "

She tilted her head, her hair draping over her shoulder, and that movement made me want to hurl. "Why did we stop, then?"

"Um. I think... we should take it slow. " I said, internally dying. I had never said that to anyone before and meant it, and I still didn't mean it now. I never wanted to do that again. I didn't know exactly what it was about her, but....

Or was it me?

God, I was such a pussy. Imagine being a teenage boy and having a hot teenage girl who wanted to make out with you and maybe do more and you just - just nothing! Nothing was happening!

Was I getting old? Like losing my sex drive? What if I could never get it up again?

I pushed past her, and shoved the door open, the light of day blinding me for a minute. There weren't that many students around - everyone had already made their way to the cafeteria, but I got a few knowing looks from guys who had seen me come out of the janitor's closet.

I straightened up, and pushed my way through a knot of people, my steps loud on the linoleum. My heart thudded behind my ribs.

I rounded the corner and suddenly Denver was in front of me, his cologne filling the air.

Disgusting.

I was close enough that I could feel his body heat, my eyes on a crease in his shirt. I could feel his eyes on my face but I didn't look at him.

"Fuck out of my way, " I muttered, knocking his shoulder with my own as I went past him.

His shoulder felt round and heavy against mine for that one second. He didn't say anything.

I kept going down the corridor. The shoulder which I had hit him with felt warm.

------

Some guys were warming up already on the field when I got there. I saw a familiar curly head talking to Coach and my eyebrows jumped up.

I walked up behind him and slapped him on the back. He jumped, edgy for some reason.

"Duncan!" I cheered. "Are you on the team, now?"

"I'm trialling, " He replied, his eyes on the guys behind me. "Coach came up and asked me if I wanted to. "

I shot a grin at Coach over Duncan's shoulder and he winked at me, stacking a few coloured cones together.

"That's hype, dude. Hey, " I bent down a bit, "I know you can take care of yourself, but if you ever need to take care a few of the guys here cos they're being dicks, let me know cos' I wanna help. "

He met my eyes and nodded.

Ryan jogged up beside us with a few guys in tow. "Hey Duncan, " He said, thumping him on the back.

Training started. It felt good to push myself, to get my hands on the ball, to have the whole teams' eyes on me when I did. I saw raised eyebrows and mutters, and their looks of apprehension and disgust slowly melted into calculating and assessing stares. I knew they had been mad last week - I had played awfully in training. Halfway through the practice, I had spotted my dad up in the stands. What better way to hurt him than to fail at his beloved football? But my dad wasn't here now, and Denver was. Denver, who would be so pissed if I was good.

Duncan hadn't lied - he was fucking good at football. At first, no one passed him the ball - I don't know if it was because they didn't like gays or because they didn't think he was good. Me, Ryan, and Oscar made it a point to pass the ball to him as much as we could - which I'm sure he didn't like. It wasn't hard though - he was smart and fast and always in the right place. Soon, the rest of the guys began to realise that, and soon we didn't have to make it a point to pass it to him.

Denver, of course, was quarterback. He could throw and run, and was the most vocal player there apart from Rio, who was mostly plain aggressive. He directed the game. That was the only time I listened to him - when he was calling out in a game. My neck still hurt, especially when I was slammed to the ground - which was not often, don't get me wrong - and went hoarse quickly when I called out. I had worn a bandana loosely around my neck for the past few days to hide the bruises.

Soon, we were going on tournament. Coach had told me he could pay half the expenses for me, which I would make sure to repay him for. I was paying the other half.

I had told my mum I was staying at Ryan's for the week, because I didn't want her to know that Coach was paying for me. I didn't know how or if she could pay them.