Feuds and Reckless Fury by K. Webster

 

Canyon

Like the creepy stalker Naomi claims me to be, my eyes immediately find Alis the second I walk into first hour. His usual smugness is gone, and his spine is rigid. Messy blond hair hangs in his eyes and sticks up in a few spots as though he’s been tugging at it. Dark circles ring his eyes, and he seems paler than usual. Seeing him on edge puts me on edge.

Making a beeline straight for him, I sit behind him and lean forward to bring my mouth close to his ear.

“Afraid I’m going to kick your ass in this class?” I taunt, though lacking my usual venom.

He turns slightly, offering me his profile. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Never crossed my mind. We both know I’m better at everything.”

The urge to touch him is nearly maddening. I curl my hands into fists so I don’t do something stupid like run my fingers through his hair to smooth it back down.

“I haven’t sucked dick before, but I’m pretty sure I could outperform you there,” I throw back, my voice barely a whisper against his ear.

He shivers and turns his body more toward me. His dark eyes drink me in, ravenous and greedy. The heat that burns from him scorches into me. I catch the scent of lime, which makes my mouth water for another taste. Needing confirmation that I’ve done just that—tasted him—before, I let my eyes drift to the fading purple bruises on his neck. My dick thickens as I remember how I pinned him down and sucked on his neck.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he grumbles, his voice raspy. “It’s so…obvious.”

I sit back, burned by his words, darting my gaze around the classroom. No one is paying any attention to us. Except Naomi. When I shake my head in denial, she rolls her eyes at me before leaning forward to chat up Leon. I drag my stare back to Alis.

“Why do you look like shit, Wonderland? Nightmares keep you up all night?”

He flinches, shooting a nasty glare at me. “He told you?”

“Who?”

“Your dad.” His jaw clenches, and his brown eyes blaze with fury. “Unbelievable.”

“In case you forgot,” I grind out, irritated by his pissy attitude, “I don’t speak to my dad unless I have to. We certainly don’t talk about you.”

Relief floods through him, making his shoulders relax. “Oh.”

“You ratted yourself out, man,” I say with a vicious grin. “What could a rich, spoiled kid like you possibly have nightmares about? Losing your chair in orchestra to my baby sister? A flat tire on your Range Rover? Falling on your face at the track meet?”

“Fuck off.” He swivels back around, facing the front of the classroom.

I study how his entire body is coiled and tense. Whatever is going on with him doesn’t really have to do with me, I don’t think. For some reason, I want to know. Why? I’m not sure. It’s not like I even like the guy.

Liar.

While I wait for the bell to ring, I hunt online, searching for a new Daisuke cosplay wig. At last year’s Anime Con, I hated the fact that at least fifteen other people had the same black and orange-tipped wig. This year, I want something custom and different.

The bell rings and class begins, but my mind is still on Anime Con. Adapted to anime from a popular weekly manga serial published in a Tokyo magazine, Mubōna Ikari is popular at the conventions because it’s so widely watched and has been around for years. The two feuding families in the series—the Kinoshitas and the Miyazakis—spend all nine seasons battling for various reasons. Daisuke Kinoshita comes from a good family, but he’s restless and causes trouble. His nemesis, Chibi Miyazaki, lives with a notoriously evil Tokyo crime family but craves a normal life. The main battle between the two boys is that they continuously envy the other’s life. It isn’t until the fifth season that a tricky majo puts a spell on the boys, trading their bodies. At first, they enjoy the other’s life, but when they realize it’s not all they expected it to be, they soon want to go back home. After they’re switched back, they secretly form a friendship behind closed doors, and ultimately they find love with each other.

The bell rings again, and I shake away my daydreaming. There was a time when I’d get into so much trouble at school for sneak-reading Mubōna Ikari manga. My schoolwork always fell by the wayside as I got lost in Daisuke and Chibi’s world.

By the time I gather my things and step out of the classroom, Alis is nowhere to be found. My gaze drifts to where Naomi chats with Leon, and then I’m tracking Alis again. I find him at a vending machine, bent over to retrieve his drink. His jeans hug his ass, making me salivate. I can’t even lie to myself that he isn’t hot because my dick perks all the way up any time I see him.

I’m attracted to my enemy.

I don’t know what to do about it either.

“You going to tell me what has your panties in a twist?” I ask, leaning a shoulder against the machine.

He straightens and twists the cap off his Coke. “Nope.”

Our eyes remain locked as he tips the bottle up. I watch the dark liquid rush between his pouty lips and into his mouth. He swallows, and I track that movement too, fixated on how his Adam’s apple bobs. It makes me wonder just how far it would protrude with my dick pushed deep into it.

“Am I sucking you off right here in front of everyone?” Alis taunts, his wicked brown eyes flickering.

I glance over my shoulder, thankful no one is nearby. “You’d like that.”

“I know how you taste.” He steps closer, flashing his white teeth at me, reminding me of the semi-evil Chibi from Mubōna Ikari. “So, yeah, Voss, I’d like that.”

His tongue darts out of his mouth, licking over his bottom lip. I stifle a groan because I can practically feel the needy, wet feel of it on the tip of my dick again. If there weren’t a hallway full of our peers, I’d almost be tempted to grab the front of his shirt and haul him to me.

Then what?

Taste his taunting words right from his mouth.

I bet they taste like Coke and limes and a little bit like victory.

“Oh,” he says, his brown eyes burning into me. “I almost forgot. I owe you this.” He thrusts the Coke my way, shoving it against my chest. “From this morning.”

My hand curls around his smaller one that’s holding the soda. Images of him in his bed with his hand stroking his dick have a low growl rumbling from me. I lean toward him, inhaling his scent like I could get high from it.

“You’re playing with fire,” I warn. “It’s going to burn when it consumes you.”

He stands on his toes, bringing his mouth to my ear. “I’m not scared of a little heat.” His hot breath sends shivers of want rippling through my body.

“You better walk away, Wonderland, or I won’t be held responsible for what I do to you in front of everyone. That’ll surely get back to your daddy.”

My words have their desired effect because he jerks away, glowering at me. I uncap the Coke and bring it to my lips, winking at him. He shoves his middle finger in my face before storming off. I’m grinning after him when Naomi sidles up beside me.

“Wow.”

I wipe the smile off my face and look down at her, eyebrows knitted together as I study the sassy girl who’s stuck by my side through some of my shittiest moments. “What?”

“Just weird seeing it confirmed.” She shrugs as though her words don’t stab me right in the gut.

“We were arguing,” I say lamely.

“No, Canyon, that’s not at all what you two were doing. You were eye-fucking and sharing a Coke like a couple.”

I balk at her words and shake my head. “That’s…Nae…”

“Come on,” she says, rolling her eyes at me. “Let’s get to class.”

Eye-fucking.

Sharing a Coke like a couple.

Here I thought I was taunting Alis because that’s what we do, but it turns out he’s mind fucking me just as much as I thought I was doing to him.

I’m so screwed.

“Yo,” Gage calls out from the bench on the football field.

I walk away from the group that’s stretching on the track and toward the guy I’ve had to begrudgingly put up with over the years since he’s in my circle of friends. “What’s up?”

He’s bigger than me with all his Blood Gators football gear on, a fact his smug self seems to appreciate. I walk right up to him, not daunted by the stupid show of intimidation. Gage and I have always tolerated each other because we were teammates who shared the same friends. I’ve never liked him the way I do Cain and Damon, though. Something about him irritates me. Always has.

“Coach will let you back on the team,” he says, eyeing me as though he can’t seem to understand why. “He thinks you’re going through a phase.”

His words rankle me. “I’m happy where I’m at.”

“Running with that faggot?”

It takes a second for the slur to catch up to my brain. “The fuck you say?”

“Come on, Voss,” he scoffs, his lip curling up, “you can’t actually enjoy doing this track shit. Is it because you want to show up Sommers, or because you’re hoping he’ll let you suck on his dick?”

I shove him hard, sending him flying backward over the bench. He lands on his back with a grunt. With a growl, he leaps back to his feet, his hands fisted as rage thrums through him, making him shake.

“Maybe you prefer it up the ass. No wonder you couldn’t satisfy Naomi—”

My fist swings out, but it’s stopped when two arms grab me from behind. Damon steps in front of Gage to keep him from coming after me. It takes me a second to recognize the salty lime scent that belongs to Alis. I try to shake him off me, but he’s tugging me away from Gage.

“That’s what I thought,” Gage barks at me. He makes a crude gesture of sucking a dick, which sets me off. Before I can charge at him again, Alis twists me around and shoves me back toward the track.

“What the hell?” I snap, glowering at him over my shoulder.

“You fight with him, and you’ll be suspended from the track meet on Saturday.”

“So?”

“So, how am I supposed to gloat for beating your ass when your ass isn’t there to beat?” His dark brow lifts in question. “I kind of need you there to stroke my ego.”

The devious glint in his mahogany orbs alludes to much more than his ego being stroked. Fucking Sommers. He’s a little shit-stirrer in my life. It’s annoying.

“Come on,” he says, motioning with a chin nod to the track, “let’s have a little preview of this weekend.”

Smug bastard.

When I beat him by a sixteenth of a second, I feel on top of the world. I’m doubled over, panting for air, when I catch his amused expression. Fucker let me win. Asshole.

I flip him off and growl, “Again.”

The next time, he beats me all-too-easily, and damn if I still don’t feel on top of the world.