Love and Other Diseases (bxb)

Chapter One

Blake Beckson was a disease of a human being.

I didn't have to know him to know that. I was walking behind him on our way to school; his actions along the way revealed how much of a tool he was.

He had his sunglasses on — even though it was only partly sunny — and those annoying pants with the elastic bands around the ankles. He was the visual manifestation of asshat.

"Excuse me?" he said, voice sickeningly sweet and directed at Nancy, the 90 year old woman who lived down the street. Nancy was struggling to drag her garbage can out to the bottom of the driveway, clearly vulnerable to evil men like Blake. "Can I help you with that?"

A trap, surely. Nancy, the gullible old lady, looked pleased and slightly surprised. "Oh...! Oh, thank you, young man! What a kind boy you are."

Blake waved his hand in the air flippantly, dismissing Nancy entirely. "Oh, don't worry about it! It's my pleasure."

He was Satan, quite frankly.

Rolling up his shirtsleeves, probably all for show, Blake approached Nancy. If it were a movie in the theatre, the Jaws theme song would've been playing in the background and the audience would be on the edge of their seats, clutching their buttery fists.

Blake grabbed Nancy's garbage can and, with ease, brought it over to the end of the driveway. Nancy, all smiles, gave him a hug and offered him cookies.

Blake declined.

...Only a monster would decline cookies.

Only men like Blake Beckson could take pleasure in one-upping old ladies by moving their garbage cans.

Only. Blake. Beckson.

And the fact that he clearly scoffed at the cookies she worked so hard to make?

Disgusting.

Satan incarnate began to whistle an upbeat tune, clearly some kind of Satanic spell, and walked down the road with a spring in his step. He was plotting something.

He was probably thinking of eating children's entrails.

I wouldn't be shocked.

It was about halfway to Lincoln South High School when Blake turned around.

"Hey, uh, Jake? I've noticed you've been kind of, um, following me? For the past twenty minutes? You know, I think it might be a lot less awkward if you walked with me and not, um, directly behind me."

How self-absorbed.

"I don't want to walk with you," I replied honestly, like the good person I was.

Blake awkwardly shuffled his feet and tugged at his coat sleeve. "Are you sure? I'd really like to walk with you. Maybe get to know you a bit? You're in my precalc class. I sit, like, two seats to your right."

"Listen, Blake," I said. "I don't like you. We've been over this."

Blake frowned. "Okay."

He looked sad that I didn't want to walk with him. He was such a deceptive person.

Up ahead, there was a man with a long walking stick and sunglasses on. It wasn't even sunny though. Clearly he was a dickbag just like Beckson.

It wasn't surprising in the least when the antagonist of everyone's story walked over to the man and linked arms with him.

"Are you trying to cross the street?" Nosy Beckson asked.

The man nodded. "But I can't tell if there are cars coming. My hearing ain't what it used to be."

Psh. Take your goddamn sunglasses off and look both ways, idiot.

Beckson's smile was maniacal. "I'll help you."

Sure enough, he crossed the street with the man and walked him all the way to the bus stop. The man sat down on the bench and patted Beckson's arm. "It's a good thing there are kids like you around. Thanks, kid."

The use of the word kid practically twice in a row was cringy.

Looks like he was an asshole too.

"It was no problem, sir," Beckson leered.

After a million years, we reached our destination and I wasted no time getting as far away from Blake Beckson as possible. He bounced over to his group of friends and I went to mine.

"I hate him," were the first words out of my mouth.

"Who, Blake? Dude, you really have to get over that hang up," Kay said. She looked up at me out of the corner of her eyes. "Just because your names rhyme doesn't give you a right to hate him."

"It pisses me off. People could confuse us! People do confuse us."

Kay glanced at Blake Beckson, the epitome of a sort-of-built, but still clearly a teen, seventeen year old white guy, and at me, a 6'3" track star clocking in at 245 lbs of muscle.

Okay, maybe nobody had ever confused us. Clearly I was way hotter than he was.

"Okay, fine. But don't forget about the automatic light outside his garage," I added.

"I highly doubt you get woken up by it," Kay snorted. "You're just looking for excuses because you don't want to tell me the real reason. Alright—oh, hey Ben!"

Ben. I liked Ben. Ben was good people.

Ben was the smallest human on planet earth also. He was a full head shorter than me.

I could just tuck him right under my chin and cuddle him. ...Not that I would do that. That would be weird.

"Oh, looks like I missed J's overcompensatingly angry, and yet still very clearly gay and in-love, speech about Blake the Bombshell. Awesome!" he laughed.

Ugh. Ben.

"It's not gay and in-love," I clarified. "If anything, my thought about holding you close and tucking you under my chin was gay and in-love. My feelings for Blake are filled with pure, unbridled hatred."

Kay snorted and nudged Ben. "Ha, it's almost like he believes that."

Ben blinked. "...Tuck me under your chin? Fuckin' what..."

I decided to ignore him and go inside. I needed to get as far away from disgusting little Blake Beckson as fast as humanly possible.

Besides, why would they ever think that I could have feelings for Blake? Love was practically a disease.

-

I have no clue if you guys are gonna hate this protagonist or think he's hilarious. I think he's hilarious, but I have a soft spot for awkward assholes lmao.

Anyway, here's my take on the enemies to lovers trope!