"I swear to god I will gouge your eyes out if you look at me with those pitiful eyes again." Devland snapped as he crossed his arms defensively, glaring at Akira.
They were in the school parking lot, the game was about to begin and slowly the students were trudging towards the football field.
"Just checking in on you." Akira huffed, placing one of his arms on the car behind Devland so it looked like he was caging him, "You never replied to my text either and you've been bitchy ever since."
"I'm fine. I just want this day to be over so I can go back to breaking into houses." Devland studied Akira's arm with a certain interest; It was lithe and graceful, like a gymnast. He remembered that time Akira had jumped over the wall, landing next to him quietly like a cat.
"Not a big fan of parties?" Akira tilted his head in a way that made his fluffy hair sway to the other side.
"No. But I attend them anyway because I have no choice." Devland averted his eyes away from Akira's face, feeling his cheeks heat up a little bit, "Drunk teenagers means I can weed out any information I want. And drunk Elites? That's like hitting the jackpot. I can't miss the opportunity, especially since Max used to be close friends with them."
"Looks like the game's about to start." Akira noticed, removing his arm and starting to walk towards the field. Devland caught up to him, observing his attire.
Akira wore black ripped jeans [Devland suspected that the rips weren't a fashion statement] with a dull grey shirt under a jacket. He frowned as he realised that the material for the jacket was expensive—unlike the rest of his clothes which seemed old and worn down. Devland reached out and gently tugged at the black jacket, startling Akira. "Bobby's?"
"I—yeah." Akira nodded.
"Well, at least he has good taste." Devland whistled, checking out the material, "I swear it's like you're going for a parent-teacher meeting instead of a party. At least try to look hot."
"Hey cut me some slack!" Akira protested, "It's my first party."
"Really?" Devland mocked, "I didn't realise!"
"As if you look so great yourself."
"Name one bad thing about my outfit." It came out more like a threat than a challenge.
"I—It's–" Akira stuttered, his eyes wandering around Devland's clothes, "The—the coat?"
"Do you expect me to freeze to death?" Devland snapped as they neared the field, "And besides, I'll remove the coat once we're at the party."
"Wait, Dev—" Akira grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at the boy, "Are you—Uh—"
Devland's eyebrows knitted, looking down at the linked hands, before his eyes softened, "I'm mostly okay. I just said some mean things to my mom and it's been fucking me up a bit."
Akira nodded, running a hand through his hair as he sighed in relief, "Yeah–okay, that's fine. I'm glad you're fine now."
"So caring." Devland cooed as Akira turned bright red. The other boy muttered an angry 'Shut the fuck up' before disappearing amongst the crowd.
Devland steeled himself, letting his eyes wander the bleachers. There were a lot of students; even students from a different school. They all either wore the blue and silver of St. John's school, or the purple and yellow of Yellow Oak High. Devland finally spotted the row where The Elites sat, busy talking amongst themselves.
They were in the last row, at the top. 'Smart move.' Devland admitted as he started climbing up the stairs, 'Now I can't sneak up on you guys.'
YOU ARE READING
The Pseudo Semicolon
Mystery / ThrillerDevland returns to the sleepy town of Halderberry to attend his brother's funeral. It was supposed to be a simple gathering of a broken family; a trip down memory lane where he and his brother grew up. But when he stumbles upon a peculiar package le...
