Page 8 of Pippin & Nacho

“Eyes up here, dickhead,” Blaze snapped at Ajax.

Ajax’s face burned red, and his eyes bulged. “I’m… I’m not looking at your dick, fuckhead.”

Blaze smirked, wearing his ‘gotcha’ face. “Who said anything about dicks?”

Ajax’s hands fisted, and the veins on his neck bulged. He looked ready to ram over anyone who got in his way. It took nearly all of us to hold him back, which wasn’t easy being the size of a linebacker.

Blaze’s eyes gleamed as he played with the rings on his tattooed fingers as Ajax lost it. I swore he had a death wish to torment Ajax so much. They constantly needled each other, and I couldn’t believe they hadn’t come to blows yet. The only one who would get hurt in that scenario would be Blaze. Although he seemed to be as reckless as Ajax.

Ajax huffed as we shoved him back to the ground to sit, mumbling obscenities at his friends. Then, his dark eyes pinged back on Blaze, and a cruel smirk twisted on his face. “What I meant to say is I wasn’t looking at your dick because you don’t have one, or it’s too small to notice. I was just trying to find it.”

I rolled my eyes at all the dick insults.

It was Blaze’s turn to lose it as he stood, and if he could gut someone with his eyes, he would. “The fuck you say?”

Ajax relaxed as Blaze turned to fire, clearly loving to get the same reaction out of him.

This time, Stone and Cueball were the ones to hold Blaze back. If this kept up, eventually, those two stubborn morons would come to blows, and someone was going to get seriously hurt.

“Why don’t you two idiots just fuck already?” Jazz said, blowing a bubble from her gum as she continued to scroll on her phone.

Blondie giggled and nodded. “Yep, that’s the only way to resolve your issues.”

Both Blaze and Ajax looked green at the very idea of fucking each other as they both ranted at the twins.

“As if!”

“I fucking hate that prick!”

“I wouldn’t touch him if my life depended on it!”

“... microdick.”

The rest of us burst out into a fit of laughter. I had to admit, Jazz may have been on to something there.

Soon, everyone settled back down as Blaze and Ajax quietly seethed, and I needed to skate again.

Sam sat next to me, smoking and watching everyone with a big smile on his face that looked genuine, but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. He’d gotten so good at masking his feelings and pain from others, practicing for years. Among his other issues, he suffered from insecurities, which was no fault of his own, but it made him struggle with self-worth. All our friends assumed that Sam had ADHD, which he did, but we didn’t advertise it either. On top of it, he also put his happy mask on to disarm people. Years of being treated horribly forced him to adapt so he wouldn’t get hurt again.

All of our friends suffered one way or another. Stix and his little sister had been abandoned by their father after Stix came out as gay, and he’d blamed himself for his family’s financial struggles. Stone’s drugged-out parents had physically abused him until he finally left them. Jazz and Blondie were runaways. And Ajax had his own issues, but no one really knew his story. Like Sam, he kept his past close to the cuff. Whatever happened to Ajax made him volatile, making it hard to judge what would set him off. And I had no idea what Blaze’s and Cueball’s stories were. I didn’t know them well enough.

That was our crew. Alpha’s Rejects wasn’t just a bar in Baltimore, Maryland. It was home and family. We shared in our pain and suffering, finding friendship and a place that kept us whole.

I elbowed Sam. “I’m gonna go skate for a bit before we have to go.”

He faced me and smiled. “Yeah, have fun.”

The smile he gave felt genuine and made my heart beat a little faster, and my stomach fluttered. Sam was always beautiful, even in his pain, but when he had moments of true happiness, he fucking glowed, and his green eyes shone like gemstones. It reminded me of things that should’ve been and could be. If he hadn’t been through hell and back, that smile wouldn’t be a mask, not the one he wore for others.

I returned his smile, fighting the urge to lean into him, to kiss him, to do anything other than just smile back stupidly at someone I would give my life to protect.

I grabbed my board and made my way toward one of the several half-pipes in the skatepark. Skating was my stress relief. I loved Sam with every fiber of my being, and I loved taking care of him, but it could also be challenging, exhausting, and stressful sometimes.

It wasn’t like Sam couldn’t take care of himself, but he forgot a lot of things, like paying rent and bills or grocery shopping. When he shopped, he would buy things we already had instead of what we needed, which was why we usually shopped together. But those things were small in comparison to his anxiety, panic attacks, and nightmares that could ruin the previous good day. I wasn’t a mental health expert, so all I could do was the best that I could to help him since he flat-out refused to see a doctor.

The one thing that made all my efforts worth it was when I would wrap myself around him after one of his rougher moments and feel him calm against me. His muscles would loosen, and his breathing would settle, showing I could offer Sam a safe space, and that he needed me as much as I needed him.

Talk about a need to focus. My life was so wrapped up around Sam that I often forgot about myself.

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