The Quarterback's Gigolo [boyxboy]

The Quarterback's Gigolo [boyxboy] [19]

Reed P.O.V

 

 

My heart swelled in hope as I watched the confused emotions flicker of Jack's face. Why couldn’t he see how much he hurt me? I thought we were friends, more than that I thought I meant something to him. But when he shoved me into that swamp I knew it was all in my head, why would Jack Nickels like someone as pathetic and lonely as me? What did I have to offer him? I was nothing.

But yet here he was in front of me kind of begging for forgiveness. My forgiveness, I knew what I wanted him to say and I knew what I would say in return. He held my hand his thumb grazing across my lips shooting electric sparks down to my toes. The feel of his touch almost had me turning to jelly. I stared up into his blue eyes, but I couldn’t read them.

“I........

My heart clenched and I almost wanted to squeeze me eyes shut.

“I........ I have to go” Jack said.

My mouth almost popped open in disbelief. I gave him a dirty look and then glared at him “Yeah, you do. Goodbye Jack” I said my voice sounding all bitchy and annoyed.

He didn’t reply he just turned and left, I stood in the same spot and listened as my front door slammed shut, and then as his car started up and drove out my driveway. And then I collapsed into a ball on the floor and cried. Why had I expected anything different? I guess I was blinded by my love for him, I’d deluded myself into thinking that maybe he loved me back.

My phone bleeped it was a text from Jack. Hands shaking I opened it.

Jack: You made the team. Practice tomorrow after school, just bring shorts you’ll get a team top and Reed punishment for being late or not turning up is laps.

I stared at it, was he seriously going to pretend like nothing had happened like we were friends. The only reason I tried out for his stupid team was for Dom, I didn’t think I’d get it, I suck. I looked around my room looking for an empty canvas. I grabbed one and headed to my art room. Dom hated that I did art; he hated it even more that it was messy.

About a year ago he let me use the loft as a sort of art studio. I pressed the button and the ladder descended, I didn’t allow anyone to come up in here, even Dom and Kat weren’t allowed. Kat had gone back to university yesterday; she claimed that she’d spent too long at home anyway. She’d been getting her assignments emailed to her by her professor, but I guessed she missed it.

Or maybe she just wanted to get out the house, away from all the reminders about Lucas and their baby. I set up the canvas and decided to paint from my heart; I picked up my brush and the grey paint. I took off my jumper and threw it down the ladder back on the landing. I liked it and I didn’t want to get paint all over it.

I put my iPod in the docks and got to work, like most of the time I painted what I felt or the mood I was in. I must have been absorbed in my painting for hours because when I looked outside it was dark. I turned off the iPod and put my art stuff down, I stepped back to look at my painting. I painted my face.