Page 12 of Forever We Fall

His gaze slips my way again. I see it because I’m staring at him as I’ve taken to doing over these cursed weeks. I roll my eyes and stare down at my paper. I cross my arms and wait for the bell to ring.

When it does, I rush down the steps.

“See you in the gym, new kid,” Nate calls out.

I flash him a peace sign and find my smile again. Judge has a way of smothering it on my lips. No, that sounds all wrong in my head. My dick twitches in my pants, contradicting me. I turn in my assignment with a huff, then head to my next class.

For whatever fucking reason, the school duplicated my schedule and gave it to the actual new kid. So not only do I have to watch him go in and out of his room—damn near my room—all the time, I’m also forced to endure his presence in every inaneclass. At least this is the last one of the day and the least brain numbing.

Biology.

Nothing is more amazing than the human body. It’s awe-inspiring. What it can do. What it can endure. What it can overcome. The pleasure it brings. The pain.

My dick jerks. Blood rushes south. Pleasure and pain. Not the things I should be thinking about right now. I take a notebook out of my book bag and slide it on my lap.

It’s not cool to pop wood in a room full of dudes.

“You actually going to take notes today?” Phillip, the eternal idiot, laughs as though he’s said something funny.

“No,” I deadpan. During my second week, after Judge pissed me off, Phillip learned not to fuck with me. It’s been a minute. It seems he might need a reminder.

“What are you going to do? Journal?” Phillip sits two rows down with his pretty friends and laughs. “Dear Diary, I love cock. I love looking at it. I love sucking it.”

“Yeah, actually.” I nod, and he looks over his shoulder with pursed butthole lips and wide eyes. His friends’ laughs are soft and tentative. They know he’s outmatched.

“I am going to journal.” I grin. “Dear Diary, Phillip’s mom is as ugly as her son. She gives great head, though. I close my eyes, imagine a Victoria’s Secret model, fuck her mouth, and manage to shoot my load all over her face. It makes her prettier.”

His friends’ laughter explodes.

“You fucking prick!” Phillip’s face goes red. The sheen of sweat that constantly clings to his upper lip grows instantaneously. It glitters over his cheeks and brow. “I’m going to kill you!” He launches himself at me.

Phillip is a big guy, but he’s all fluff. Gravity works against him. His initial burst only gets him halfway over one row ofchairs and damn near in some guy’s lap. He roars, and I swear I can see the vein expanding and contracting in his temples.

Our professor walks in. I respect this guy. He’s one of the few in this stupid school who knows what the hell they’re talking about, who treat us like people, and who doesn’t take shit from us.

Phil’s friends grab his belt buckle and reel him in.

Catch of the day.

Market value? Minimal. Toss it back.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” our professor asks while tapping his computer and revealing a diagram of the endocrine system behind him. His gaze is on Phillip and his friends.

The collective douche group grumbles their negatives and apologies, and so the class carries on as though nothing happened. Because nothing did happen. We’re a minute in, and I feel a set of eyes burning me.

I know who they belong to before I look. I shouldn’t bother with even a glance, but I fucking can’t abstain, and I hate it.

When I find his gaze on me, dark and curious, I arch a brow. He says nothing. He does nothing, except study me with his intense eyes. I flip him the bird this time. He earned it. I listen to the lecture, try to ignore my throbbing cock, and urge the minutes to pass quickly.

Again, the moment the bell rings, I’m up and moving fast. I feel like I’m running from him. I have no reason to, but I am.

“That’s right, kiddo. Run,” Phillip whispers as I pass by.

If he’d said it louder, I’d have stopped. As it is, the guy is all talk. A lot of it. He hasn’t been able to get a rise out of me. So he can keep ending up the idiot. It’s fun, with the lack of anything better to do.

Today, I have something better to do. I head straight for the gym, grab my stuff out of the locker, and then change into shorts and a T-shirt. Over the next fifteen minutes, guys file inand do the same. There’s excitement in the air. A few of them talk quietly to themselves about last year’s team and some of the upsets they endured. They’re hopeful for this year’s team.

I can’t fight my grin. I don’t try.

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