Taboo (Verboten sequel) (Jalex)

Chapter 5

Alex couldn't meet Jack's eyes the next day, suddenly ashamed of his actions. God, he was acting like such a child about the whole thing. Really, Alex? Fucking somebody else in front of him in the hopes it would make him jealous. He was so immature. Fuck it. He was a teenager; he was going to embrace his immaturity. Viva la immaturity and all that. He had History last thing, and to Amy's surprise he actually went. She came with him for moral support, obviously curious about what was going on, and kept prodding him throughout the last two periods.

When the last school bell rang, Alex gathered up his stuff with her but then gestured for Amy to leave without him. "I'll text you later," he said softly, closing his bag and dropping it onto the table. Amy nodded, patting his shoulder and filing out with the rest of the class.

"Jack," Alex said, once everyone was gone and the door had swung shut. The teacher refused to turn around, resolutely wiping down the whiteboard with a dirty cloth, stained with black ink after so much use. "Jack," he said again more firmly.

"Just go, Alex. We have nothing to talk about," Jack said, equally as stern.

Alex gritted his teeth. He wanted to flee, but he knew that he had to talk to Jack about everything. He had to know why. "Why?" he asked out loud. "Why did you dump me?"

Jack swung around, his eyes filled with anger. "Go, Alex. Or do you want another detention? With the Head Teacher, this time, for flat disobedience."

"Was I not good enough?" Alex blurted out, his eyes filling up with tears. This was the question he had wanted to ask ever since it had happened, and now he was finally going to find out the answer.

Jack gaped at him in disbelief. "No! Of course not, God, Alex; I...I love you. But it's like I said. This is so dangerous, and there's such a big age gap between us—"

"Bullshit!" Alex crossed his arms. "I know that's not it, Jack, I know that's not the reason."

Jack strode over to him, and for a second Alex thought he was going to get slapped. Then Jack wrapped him up in a bone-crushing hug, rubbing his back and kissing his hair. "God, I love you," he whispered, his voice hoarse from unshed tears.

Alex had no such qualms: he let his tears fall freely, sobbing into Jack's shoulder. "Then tell me!" he cried, hitting Jack half-heartedly. His fists were useless; his arms were weak. "Tell me why I wasn't good enough."

"Oh, Alex, you are perfect! But...I can't tell you!"

Alex pulled away, drawing his sleeve across his eyes to wipe away the tears. "Fuck you," he spat. "You made me feel like I was worth something, and then you just...you fucking left me!"

"Alex—"

"Fuck you!" Alex grabbed his bag from the table and swung it over his shoulder as he opened the door and swung it shut behind him, jogging down the corridor to get away from Jack.

LINE BREAK

His fingers were numb and he dropped the blade, slick with blood, for the fourth time. He cursed, fumbled for the double-edged razor blade and drew it across his wrist again. A satisfying line of blood rose up and spilt out, coating his hand like he was wearing a red glove. The pain it brought was an odd mixture between unpleasant and comforting.

He did it again and again and again, slashing at his own skin to feel some physical pain for once. He wanted to hit a vein, hit an artery, hit something and bleed out and never feel like this again. He just wanted to be good enough again; he was never good enough.

Whatever he did, however happy he got, people always abandoned him in the end. It was just going to happen over and over again; what was the point?

His phone buzzed with another missed call from Amy; she was worried when he didn't respond to any of her texts. At least it wasn't Jack calling him.

Oh, scrap that. His phone lit up with the name Jack and Alex glared at it. He tightened his grip on the blade and drew it in a long, vertical line down his inner wrist. Again, blood welled up and spilt down his arm in rivulets, but it wasn't enough. He needed to die.