Bad Boy, Good Boy (boyxboy)

6 - bad boys like books and drama

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Chapter 6

Since Sam was my dear best friend, we did most of the things together. Meaning, that Sam helped me get a job at a bookstore, where I would stack books and just be hostile-looking in case anyone tried to bother her.

She had been working there for over a year and the owner considered her very close, like a daughter, or a niece.

That's why on Friday, instead of complaining about life in general, I was sitting on a stool at the counter and swinging my legs back and forth, trying to blow the strands of hair from my eyes. Brushing them away with my hand seemed too beginner-style. And since there were no customers, I was looking forward to mastering a new skill. Could be handy some day.

It was my first day, second if you count the day before when Sam was teaching me everything I had to do, which wasn't much, still I felt the weight of responsibility on my shoulders.

Sam returned with two mugs and my nostrils flared as I breathed in the sweet aroma of caffeine (not that I could literally smell it, I mostly smelled the coffee). I sent a thanks to all the gods, old and new and those yet to come.

"I see you're busy," Sam said and set the mug on the counter. She sat down next to me and sighed.

"I'm a little offended that you interrupted me." I nodded and put my hands around the mug to absorb the warmth. Not because I was cold, but because why waste energy, when I could use to make my blood run faster. It was a simple thrill I wasn't going to let go to waste.

Sam took a sip from her mug even though the liquid was burning hot. Steam rose from the surface and formed a messy half-crown around Sam's head. She looked as if she could control air and fire at the same time. How had she not burnt her tongue?

"I have something to confess, actually," Sam said and laughed nervously. This got me to lift my left eyebrow. "I'm considering joining the drama club."

I let my head drop in my palms. "Moron."

"No!" she disagreed. "They are starting to work on a new play and it's the perfect time for me to join." She placed her hand on my shoulder. It startled me.

"I never knew you had a dream to be a tree," I mumbled snappily. The selfishness level in my system rose to new heights and I had no plan to minimize it. For years we had made fun of the drama club, and I thought we were on the same page that we'd only go if it was absolutely necessary, like in my case, where I could possibly be kicked out of school.

Now Sam was considering because she liked the idea. Worse – she had already decided.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to be a tree," she said. "But I am going to make new friends, probably. I want to meet new people."

"Screwing me isn't enough?" Did I sound hurt?

I glanced at Sam from the corner of my left eye. She was looking down in her lap where she twirled the ring around her wedding finger. It was the ring I had given her on her fourteenth birthday. She had worn all pink, like a princess, and now she had fallen back into the maze of fantasy, where one wanted to wear pretty gowns and pretend. I thought we were over that.

Biting my lip wasn't the smartest idea because I accidentally bit too hard. I touched my lower lip to see if there was blood. I couldn't rely on my senses,  there usually already was a metallic taste in my throat. Even though I didn't bleed, it still hurt. And not just my lower lip. Everything.

"High school is about to end," when she spoke, it was so soft and gentle, and I felt like a bubble about to die. "I want to experience and experiment." She looked up and caught my eyes.

"It's okay," I shook my head slightly and straightened my back. "I'm fine on my own. Always have."

Sam pressed her teeth together, I heard it. "What are you even talking about, it's not like I'm leaving."

"Yet."

But maybe she wanted to leave. Leave this town, leave her former life, her former lovers, and leave me.

I pressed a smile. "I'm just joking, Sammy," I said. There's no way of telling if I believed the lie.

Everything Sam had said brought out my detective side, which was barely there. In the halls I let my eyes trail on the walls in case I spotted an audition flier. I had to make sure she'd be okay. I couldn't leave her with just anyone while I was going crazy on spring break, in anger management that is.

Heather had made me go over my promise and make it again and again, until I really took it seriously. Whether that technique had any effect on me, it was difficult to tell – I couldn't see past my annoyance. And perhaps she was trying to convince me to be bad enough that I had to join the drama club right away. At least I could be with Sam, then, make sure she was okay.

When on the third day of looking for any signs of the drama club I finally found them rehearsing in one of the classrooms, I didn't like the crowd I saw. They hadn't auditioned the roles just yet, but the old members were probably scheming, not willing to give the best parts to newcomers, but I wanted Sam to be cast lead. She had to.

I rested my palm against the wall and leaned in, staring at the people through the glass in the door. In my other hand I was crumpling up the auditioning flier. I felt like a hunter taking mental notes of the prey's behaviour.

That is until one of the herd members saw me and stomped to the door, where she, while glaring at me and rolling her eyes, let the fabric fall over the window, blocking all view. I startled and let my arm drop.

Once again I had made my way onto someone's naughty list.