The Bad Boy and the Other Bad Boy

Chapter 25

hey I need to know. can u guys tell if there's a difference between if jax is narrating or Rocco? like the voice? the way of describing things idk?

thanks bbs

JAX

My brain was too hot. 

My head was thudding. Everything hurt. 

I could see bright lights up head of me through the darkness, and feel someone next to me, supporting me as I stumbled forward. There were voices all around me, talking low and laughing, some slurring their words. 

I lifted my head with effort. "WHa?" I said

The guy who was holding me up as we walked laughed, and I realised it was Ryan, his face painted with navy glitter. 

"Oi boys, he's awake. " He yelled out, twisting backwards to yell at the Cobras behind us. A series of cheers rang out from the guys. 

"You told us to bring you here. You got totally whooped by Denver. Although he was looking pretty rough as well... I didn't even know he wanted Sirena that bad! " Ryan was saying, but I stopped listening, a sweat breaking out over my skin. I twisted to get out of Ryan's hold, blinking hard to try and clear my eyesight. 

"Where - where are we?" I rasped. No, no, no, they couldn't have brought me home. 

"Coach's house. Yeah, we were confused too. You said it, man. " 

I breathed out in relief, looking up at the warm lights of Coach's house, then a fresh prickling broke out over my skin as something occurred to me.

"Oh shit. Oh fuck. He's going to kick me out. I'm such a fuckass. I shouldn't have started it with Denver. " I said, or something along those lines. My head was whirling. 

"Boys, shut up!" I hissed behind me, and after a few seconds the guys' voices dropped. "Let's not disturb Coach and his wife. "

I stood up straight as I could, took a swig out of bottle of water someone passed to me, straightened my shirt, and tried to wipe the glittery shit off my face. I patted Ryan on the back and nodded to the group of other guys behind me, including Oscar and Marc. 

"Thanks boys, I owe you. " I said, feeling humbled. 

They nodded and saluted me, then one by one turned back around and ambled down the driveway to the collection of motorbikes parked at the bottom. Ryan winked at me and slipped a cigarette into his mouth as I left. 

It wasn't that late yet, and Coach and his wife weren't asleep. I had fucked up majorly, and even if the bruises didn't look that bad yet, they would soon, and we were going on tournament soon. Coach could easily ban me from going, and possibly Denver, the literal Captain, too. Shit, had I fucked up everything for everyone? 

Fuck. For once I had something for myself, and now I was going to lose it. 

Alright, man up, you piece of shit, I told myself. I took out my key that Coach had given me for the door, unlocked it, stepped in, and closed it behind me. The hallway was dark, but flickering light and sounds from the TV reflected on the hallway wall opposite the well-lit lounge. 

I made my way slowly over to the living room, feeling battered. 

Coach was sitting on the couch, watching the TV in his pyjamas - an old football t-shirt and sweatpants. 

He turned his head towards me, a cup of tea held in both hands. 

"Hey Coach. I just wanted to tell you that I got in a fight with Dick - I mean, Denver tonight at a party. It was over something stupid. I'm really ashamed of my actions, and I'm really sorry to let you down. They're not showing yet, but tomorrow I'm gonna have bruises, and Denver will as well. I understand if you don't want me to go on tournament because of this. I - I know it's not a good look for the school if one of the players and the team captain show up to games with obvious fight bruises. Shit - I mean, yeah, that's really not a good look. However - I really want to go on tournament and I'll do anything to make it up. Detention for the rest of the year, cleaning the gym after school, washing the gear - I'll do anything. I swear this won't happen again. But, if you decide you don't want me on tournament, or even on the team, I deserve it. I deserve it. I'm sorry, Coach. "