Backstreet Boy

|Chapter 37: Deconstruction|

Jason

"Sabrina's at the door for you," Alex announced.

Due to the calm day at McCann Motors we were having, Alex was the one working on the only car we had to service. This consequentially left me to squander my time away in the office considering I couldn't meet up with Isabella until later because she deemed academia too imperative to miss.

Sadly, my school didn't share the same judgement.

I had been to school this morning. My bag was tatted and my books were dishevelled and full of crap, but nonetheless, I turned up. Teachers weren't at all surprised to have my presence with them, but nor were they expecting it. They seemed to take what they could and work with it.

In the end, I only stayed for the morning. It was becoming a waste of time with it just being revision lessons. Our school, with our minimal regulations that provided a distressing amount of leeway, was very lax. Just as long as we turned up to the exams and actually passed – which, funnily enough, I did have somewhat of a good chance of achieving – we were fine and dismissed from breaking some rules.

Kicking my feet from the table to the floor, the boots hit the concrete floor of the office with a thud. Sighing exasperatedly, I said to him, "Right, okay. Send her in please."

"In you go," Alex demanded, pointing sternly back at the office as he strutted out into the actual garage.

Sporting just my white tank top and cobalt overalls that were tied around my waist, I did also have a necklace dangling from my neck. It was more of a chain and I preferred to class it as a chain rather than a necklace. Although, due to this, Alex was ceaselessly ridiculing me for the additional jewellery I sometimes wore like bracelets. As expected from this, Alex was definitely against me wearing jewellery, but sometimes he didn't have an argument because he'd say, "I don't know why, but it just suits you and it infuriates me."

"Personally," I'd breath, "I think you're just envious because you couldn't pull it off."

At this point, he'd just scoff at me and I had won the dispute.

Sabrina was now in the office, perching on the edge of the desk. She was wearing a tight, mini short which, every time she opened her legs slightly – which she did too frequently for my preference which would rather have been none at all – I could see the thong she was wearing (which I had seen when she turned her back to me, closed the door and bent over slightly to display her undergarments to me purposefully. She wore a crop top which was exceptionally low – something Isabella would have gasped at. Her hair was black still, and her lips were a flaming scarlet colour.

"What would you like, Sabrina?" I asked politely, keeping my tone just a little out of neutral. "Does your car need servicing?"

She stared at me. "No, Jason. I want you."

Ah, typical Sabrina, I mused. She was always blunt and straight to the point. Sometimes this could be a curse, and other times it was a blessing. Right now, I was already exasperated over the fact that she was here and what she had just hindered my mood. She was like a child always being scolded for insubordination. She just never learned to cease.

"I'm with Isabella," I groaned, running a hand through my hair and slicking it back. "How many goddamn times? I don't want you at all. I want her."

"I'm so much better than her." She opened her legs a little wider.

"Says the slut who's opening her legs to a guy who already has a girl? Okay, Sabrina, okay."

Abruptly agitated by my words which validated that her actions to seduce me and rapt me weren't successful, she snapped her legs shut and asked, "What is it about her that you want? Why don't you want me? You're a bad boy, Jason, and she's a good girl. I'm a bad girl. We're meant to be together."