Badboy for a Boyfriend

Chapter 10

"We all know she's always working hard for her parents. Admit it, pressures are weighing us all down but we can all agree George has it worse. Right?"

Everyone fell silent. Then Sue and Jean deliberately nodded their heads in unison. A mirror of disappointment reflected in their eyes. I knew this time it wasn't meant for me.

"Is that a compliment?" I asked jokingly to break the tension. Tanner pulled me even closer to him. The two joined us for a quick, warm group embrace. Still, in the end, I decided to go back home early.

Sunday, we had meetings with the Silveros again. A lunch meeting in their company building. I noticed how the family only brought Razbill with them to these kinds of meetings. Only if it was inside their building. And how the conversation was often business matters. I had never seen Razbill join us in the school office.

I was not in the position to sit back and watch how these people who did not clearly like him bore their judging eyes at him. I did well to ignore their cold sympathy because I was afraid my father would suddenly change the topic about school.

Although it looked like it was not happening. But he could suddenly ask Daniella and Dayshawn about their own tests which may soon lead to mine. I was also not sure if my father had already checked the result.

Still, I was silent all throughout the day. I would rather have the chair eat me up than have their eyes on me. I wished I could be invisible.

The only time I looked up over the table was when I noticed Razbill hadn't said a word since he walked in here, too. Our eyes met. I jerked on my seat; the chair squeaked. All eyes turned to me. I cleared my throat and pretended there was nothing. I glanced back at Razbill only to see his eyes were still on me. He was casually leaning on his chairs. I could imagine even his legs spread wide under the table, his hands steepled together in front of him. I frowned to at least let him know he was openly staring at me. He did not seem to mind. I thought I was the reason I fell into an oblivion to the conversation unfolding on our table. And at that very moment, I felt like Razbill Silvero and I was on the same page. In the same way, I no longer felt like an outcast. I had someone with me. Someone who felt like we did not belong here.

So, bravely, and oh so confidently, I met with his gaze again. I knew it was just all in my head. We were talking in our head but even the words were unclear. It wasn't some kind of failed telepathy. But as our eyes got locked with each other, I knew we found our common denominator reflecting.

I saw a different side of Razbill Silvero. The side I knew I would find close familiarity with and would consider his sentiments home.

I said nothing. He noticed and nodded to himself. "I recently discovered this place. This seems better than the last one. The privacy." He shrugged expectantly.

I pursed my lips and stepped next to him and leaned on the wall.

"Why do you want to stay at a place like this?"

"It's secluded. Why do you?"

The question was not a surprise at all. I was used to my own question coming back at me. I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Fresh air." It came out of my nose and sounded like a question.

"You sound uncertain."

He noticed. I could not tell if he was just watching me closely to turn at every little detail he witnessed. But it helped me distinguish him from Dayshawn. Where he took little notice with the little things, Razbill Silvero noticed literally everything. Even a fragment of dust flying to the wind.

"It's secluded, too," I supplied for his growing curiosity. Although his answers sounded like he was prying, his stance wasn't. If anything, looking closely, he was disinterested. He pocketed his hands and the stick.

"Or you're stalking me." He looked ahead of us and to the sky. His eyes squinted against the bright sunlight. He did not see me narrowing my eyes at him. Or he did. But he meant to disregard.

"Or 'you are' stalking me," I repeated bravely. It was probably his look of disinterest that urged me to continue with this discourse. He paid close attention but he did not stare longer. At least when we were alone.

"If you meant our frequent interaction around here, they were all coincidence... I was there because I wished to be alone."

He gave me a sideways glance. "It doesn't look like a place for you."

I frowned. "What about me? And... you mean the driveway?"

He chuckled. I blinked out of amazement.

"The vacant lot, 'GD'.' His expression changed from smug to that of as if being apologetic. "Sorry, how do you want to be addressed?"

I blinked again. No one asked me that neither asked which of my names I wanted to be called. They all assumed it was George because that was how closest families called me. My friends said it was the first name because we're all best of friends.

"George and Daniel are both common names for boys. But they sound cool together. They look cute on you."

My heart palpitated. I did not exactly come here for air but I was glad we were in an open space. I had to take my eyes off him before the matter got worse. I had no idea how worse it could get.

He did not think it was a female name at first, though. He thought it was two different persons as his understanding of what the bullies had said to him.

"Why do you want to be alone?" I asked instead, going back to his previous statement about our interactions. Which he believed were all coincidence. That was safer than letting him play with my emotions through my name.

He tilted his head to me. He paused as if he did not know where he got the question, then slowly nodded to himself.

"I wished," he corrected. "We wished for things we couldn't have."

I stared. We were talking about being alone, weren't we? It sounded petty but quietly relieving to have someone who shared with my sentiments.

"And pursue things we truly want," he added.

"That's for those who have freedom," I blurted out to myself. Honestly, I was not aware I had said it out loud until he straightened his body and turned wholly to me.

We were about a meter away when I joined him in leaning on the wall. One move from him and the safe distance was gone. His height became distinguished once more. He crouched his face closer to mine.

"Who would determine who has the freedom and not? Even those who believe they have, are unaware it is all nothing but an illusion."

I let go of a soft breath. He wasn't exactly invading my personal space. There was still a safe distance but for me, he was way too close. Close I could smell his mint breath. Close he might hear my heart hammering against my chest. I thought I was immune to this kind of feeling. He made me feel. He helped me breathe.

Bewildered, I instantly looked away. We glanced down in between us in unison as I absentmindedly handed the lunchbox to him. It had become heavy to hold any longer. He frowned and only stared before grinning. I had to purse my lips in refusal to part my lips and showed how that grin affected me. It somehow resembles Dayshawns's boyish smile but is still different in a way.

He stepped away and lifted his hands in defense. "I'm not stealing your lunch."

I frowned and glanced at the lunchbox in confusion. "It's not..."

"I had lunch before coming here. I don't skip meals," he replied.

"Really," I muttered without thinking. His thick brows met together. His face distorted as he smiled. Not to ridicule my response, but because of pure bemusement.

I guess I was becoming a natural fool to him.

"Enjoy your lunch." He looked around to motion to the empty space before pointing at my lunchbox. "This seems a better place to eat alone." He was nodding to himself as if glad about that realization; thankful to my discovery; imagining himself bringing out his own lunch here, which means either we would often see each other around here often, or I would need to search for a new spot again.

I said nothing though. I watched in awe as his eyes roamed the rooftop. If he acted this way during family gatherings, he would somehow have a better relationship with others.

My father would look differently at him.

Because at that moment, as I watched him, I wondered how it felt like to be him. To be a child out of wedlock sent to a delinquent school at a very young age.

I believed that my father could look past what he was to the Silvero family and tried to sympathize with him instead. That—only if he was who he was around with me.

Which made me wonder which of his two sides were real. Which side he was faking, and why?

He finally noticed me staring. I forgot what started the small smile appearing on his face. But I remember being starstruck as it slowly quirked up. It faded when he turned to me. He shrugged apologetically.

"I'm sorry to waste your time. I should leave you alone here now." He glanced at my lunchbox once more. I felt like offering him to share it with me but that would be odd. And perhaps... off.

I jerked my head to acknowledge his goodbye. I watched him leave. Seconds later, the atmosphere calmed down. I hadn't realized my heartbeat had been far from normal. My shoulders fell to free the tension.

The lunchbox was way too heavy on my hand. There was no available chair around. I had nowhere to put it to. For some reason, before I proceeded to do my business, I walked to the door to look around for a prying presence.

Razbill Silvero was truly gone.

I sighed heavily. The prior plan was to leave the lunchbox on the steps. But a student from the landing to the second floor noticed me. He saw what I was about to do. We stared a little longer until I decided to offer it to him instead.

He straightened from his spot as I stepped down the stairs. I held out the lunchbox to him. A broken chair was on the side. That must be the reason he was here.

He was already shaking his head and waving his hands to decline my offer. I was yet to say anything. I was simply holding it out to him.

"I... I can't—"

"It's fine," I interrupted and forced a smile to convince him. "I'm full. Or... you can give it to others if you don't like it."

This was not my lunch. But I did not want to say that as I did not want to lengthen the conversation. "You can do me a favor in return."

He blinked.

"If you could please not tell anyone that you saw me here?"

His blink quickened a little. I doubted it was the wind because the windows and doors were closed. I patiently waited. It hadn't taken longer. He quietly accepted the lunchbox, then took off the note and gave it back to me. Wincing, I accepted it.

He whispered a word of gratitude under his breath and left. When I was sure I was alone, I went back to the rooftop; relieved that I could finally smoke.

All was well. Until it was not.