Enamour [boyxboy]

Chapter 43 - Better Than Revenge

Chapter 43

Better Than Revenge

•Jake's POV•

The anger didn't stop, not after I went home and showered, not after I got dressed for school and skipped photography.

I knew if I showed up to photography and faced Ethan, I'd probably say something stupid or do something I'd regret.

So, instead I went and sat in the boy's locker room. It was empty, thankfully. I just sat on the bench, resting my bag beside me.

I spent the hour breathing, in and out, justifying why Ethan didn't want to talk to me. It made sense. I hurt him, of course he wouldn't want to speak to me. Not until he's ready. But it still hurt.

By the time second period came around – gym – I had changed into my gym clothes. My anger by then was barely simmering, below the surface.

The gym class was compiled of the two senior classes, and the boys filed in slowly, rowdy as ever. They all began changing and putting their stuff in the lockers, shouting at each other. Typical locker room behavior.

"Hey! Stop moping lover boy," some guy shouts. Obviously, it was directed at me, and it definitely poked at the anger that I had just spent so long stuffing down, but I just kept my head down.

Another guy speaks up: "Yeah, c'mon, that orgy must've been worth it!" A couple guys laugh along with this one.

I stand up from the bench and put on a fake grin. "Har har, real funny man."

I start to make my way out of the locker room, but not before I notice Tyler smirking out of the corner of my eye. Smirking. That boy has got some fucking nerve. I just narrow my eyes and glare at Tyler as I walk out.

My anger is hardly controlled at this rate. I know I should walk away now, just ditch the class, school for the day, let the anger slip away. But I don't. I let it boil on the surface, knowing full-well one small comment could make me snap.

The coach leads everyone onto the football field once they're all ready. I'm walking out towards the field when someone tall and strong barges into my shoulder, knocking me into the ground. I taste dirt in my mouth.

The guy apologizes immediately though, muttering "shit, sorry, Jake."

I look up.

Fucking Tyler.

"What the hell is your problem, man?" Tyler says to some guy he was jogging with. The guy just grins at Tyler and shrugs cockily.

Tyler offers me a hand up, but I just slap it out of my voice. "Fuck off, Tyler."

"Woah, dude, I'm just trying to help," he says, though the look on his face doesn't really express that he's shocked by my reaction. He knows why I'm angry.

I stand up, and a moment later, I'm in Tyler's face. "You're not trying to help, you never were trying to help, you're just an asshole," I say, spitting anger in his face. I push him, and he stumbles backward, but he doesn't fall.

Tyler looks to the side nervously, but I don't follow his gaze. He turns back to me. "Don't say something or do you something you'll regret Jake. You're just angry."

I laugh in his face. "Hah! You're damn fucking right I'm angry." Then I swing, clocking him straight in the cheek. He falls on his ass.

He laughs bitterly. "That's it, now you're dead."

Tyler stands up and barely half a second later he's charged me and tackled me to the ground, knocking the air out of me. Someone shouts my name in concern, but I don't have time to latch onto the voice, because Tyler connects his fist with my face. Then again.

"That's all you got, pretty boy?" I laugh bitterly in his face. I swing at him, punching him straight in the jaw. He rolls off me, groaning.

I roll on top of him then, pinning him to the ground, laying into him, one fist after another. It felt good – hitting him. Hitting the guy that ruined what Ethan and I had, taking advantage of him. He should've known better than to take a broken-hearted guy home.

I go to hit Tyler again, but he catches my wrist before I can connect my fist with his face. "You're hurt, Jake. Stop this, you'll regret it." His lip is split, his nose bloodied and probably broken, blood streaking down his mouth and cheek, and likely a black eye to follow.

The guy shouts my name again, then that guy shoves me off Tyler.

"Ethan?!" I ask, exasperated. His forehead is covered in a slight sheet of sweat, and his eyes are wide and concerned. America stands behind him, worried, surveying the situation.

I look around. All the guys are standing around, some likely would've been cheering on the fight. The coach is marching towards us, with Principal Walker in tow, and even from this distance, you can tell he's pissed.

Probably because he'll have to kick Tyler off the football team now.

I look to him, laying on the ground, defeated, bloodied and exhausted. I already regret everything.

Then I look to Ethan, the concern and the worry and the hurt on his face. It makes my heart ache.

Then it all pours out.

"Ethan, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen, for it to go this far. I was just so angry that I couldn't speak to you when I needed to most. I was so angry just imagining you even touching another guy, let alone my friend. I know none of this is justified, and I want you to know I regret it all, but I'm so sorry." I pause for a moment. Breath in. Tears are in Ethan's eyes now, staring down at me helplessly and angrily. "I never cheated on you, Ethan." This knocks the breath out of him. "I had a guy that I just met up with casually, once in a while, but the moment I knew I loved you – the moment I knew I was in love with you – I ended what I had with that guy. Sure, he'd message me every now and then and we'd talk a bit, but I was never interested. Not when I knew I could be spending my nights with you. I never slept with him after I met you."

I breath in again, taking a huge breath. But it didn't feel like I was breathing, not while I was waiting for Ethan's reaction, his response. He just looked like a wounded puppy, with his watery blue eyes, kicked to the ground one too many times.

"Ethan, just say something . . . please?" My voice breaks.

Instead of saying something though, he just runs away, towards the school.