Topping the Jock

Chapter Six

A.N. I literally love writing this book, I can't stop. I sit down to write one chapter and I've written a colossal 10,000 word long chapter that I then split into like four individual chapters and feel amazed with myself. Anyway, vote and comment, keep reading.

P.S. GABE LECLERQ played by David Henrie, who was like my childhood crush, ty Wizards of Waverly Place. Now, enjoy.

CHAPTER SIX - MILO'S PRECIOUS P.O.V

I was having the worst fucking day. No, scratch that, the worst fucking year. As soon as I left that stupid classroom, I knew I was in for an absolute nightmare. Why the Hell would I want to go to his house? See his parents again, his sister, like I was becoming a part of his life again?

It was torture. Did he plan this, as some final act of revenge?

I should have taken that fucking deal.

Now what was I left with? Expectations. I was still expected to hate him, despise him, loath him. I was still expected to beat on the younger kids, to be the big bad bully. What was worse? I liked it. What did that make me? Some kind of twisted fuck into BDSM? Ugh. Sorry, but bondage is hot, spank me any day. Every day.

I didn't even know what I wanted anymore.

"Dude, you're not eating," Kyle said, as always, stating the fucking obvious. Was there anyone more stupid than Kyle Nichol? And what was worse, he was into BDSM. And I don't just mean the odd spanking, the odd being tied to a bed every now and again. He got some sick sexual thrill from beating people, from being beaten, like he had a fascination with blood. I worried about him, sometimes.

Then I remember that we aren't really friends.

Then I realise that really, I'm a loser. I have no friends, or those that claimed to be my friends would turn on me and kick me to shit. So I had to keep up to their expectations and beat on others, just to save my own skin and keep myself at the top of the chain.

Kids my age only worried about one thing: their reputation. What would people think, what would my friends think? School was all about what other people thought of you, any power came from their opinions. They had expectations for people like me, captain of the basketball team, expectations like beating the littler students and knocking the shit out of competition. It was me or them, and I always chose me.

"I'm not hungry," I spat back at him, shooting him one of my regular old Your-Stupid-So-Gtfo faces. But he tossed me a dark smile, a smile that made me internally shiver, his daunting grey eyes looking me over like prey.

Kyle was a dark person, and scary. His pitch black hair was gelled back, and greasy-looking. It looked pretty disgusting, and he was mentally psychotic, if you ask me.

"You haven't eaten all day, you're gonna tire easily at practice later," he said casually, or at an attempt to be casual. Why was he so bothered about me? He didn't actually think we were real friends, did he? Did I have to remind him again?

"Kyle, get the fuck off my shit. I said I'm not hungry and I fucking meant it!" It wasn't his fault that I was angry, but still, I was angry. Angry at the world for pairing me with Remy, angry at Remy for being such a little shit, angry at myself for not taking his fucking deal. Angry at the past for making me remember it.

The last thing I need is Remy getting back into my shit.

"Whoa, dude, what crawled up your ass?"

"Rem-uh, I mean, that Rimjob fucking Rutherford. I've been paired with him in Eng-Lit."

"Sucks for you, man," Kyle said, although the smirk on his face couldn't get much wider. "Isn't he boyfriends with that kid from that really old country? Europe?"