Fixing Nico [boyxboy / yaoi]

Ch 11 - Secret

~CHASE~

The car growled angrily beneath me as I floored the accelerator and shot out of the driveway, executing a not-too-perfect manoeuvre as my tyres squealed like little girls and another car started honking from somewhere behind me. Not that I cared… I was too angry, too… confused to care about anything right now.

It was certain: in my mind, Christian's reaction to me punching Nico had left me with no doubt. They were together… together together. 

A low, guttural snarl ripped through my throat to match the gurgle of the engine, my hands clamped on the steering wheel as I speed down the highway, probably way over the speed limit. 

Sure, it was a cruel way to test a theory, but I didn't regret it… Nico would live, right? I only knocked him in the stomach, not that hard, either… he wasn't the concern, anyway - I'd known he was gay all along, ever since the Jason Layton Incident. I remembered the way he'd looked at him, that day when our families were called together to do that stupid "Peer Mediation" thing - utterly pointless shit, considering Jason simply denied everything, and Nico - well, he refused to get him into any trouble at all. I still remember: standing at the back of the office, lurking uncomfortably in the shadows as Nico shivered, still weak from three broken ribs, stuttering over his words as he tried to convince the Principle that the witnesses were wrong - it wasn't Jason - Jason had never, ever hurt him. 

At first, I'd put it down to fear - the poor kid was terrified of his tormentor. Understandable.

Then I caught the speedy glance, hidden under his black fringe, that Nico had shot Jason's way. 

And then I understood. It was… love. 

That pathetic little masochist, I thought with another low growl.

'If you keep growling like that,' Emo Kid Freak grumbled from the shotgun seat besides me, 'I'm going to do either one of two things: throw you in a mental asylum or release you back into the wild where you belong.'

I snorted loudly; I'd forgotten that the kid had been forced to sit up the front with me, as his twin sister (and polar opposite) Ashley and Zoe slid in the backseat and had been hauled up there ever since, whispering secretively to each other. Their heads were bent so closely together, their hair tangled in an intertwined mesh of bleach-blond and almost-black.

Probably talking about Christian.

Christian.

I shook my head, jolting myself sharply out of my thoughts, desperate for a change in subject. 'Maybe I'm the one who belongs in the wild - but you're the one who belongs in the mental asylum,' I spat, casting a glance at his ripped-up black jeans, his satanic t-shirt, his massive boots and neon-green fringe that tangled with his black hair. 

The kid only shrugged vaguely. 'Hard to argue with that I guess,' he murmured. 

'Very hard,' I muttered back, scowling.

'I hope your face freezes in that position,' said the emo kid under his breath… what was his name again? What was it that Nico was always calling him… Andy, wasn't it?

'I hope your eyeliner sticks on your face forever so you'll be forty and looking like an occult drug addict,' I replied. 

Andy only smirked. 'I hope so, too. Then I wouldn't have to go to the trouble of reapplying everyday. Good idea.'

I rolled my eyes as Andy whipped out an iPod touch - I laughed humourlessly to myself… I hadn't even seen an iPod in years. Most people  knew had iPhones.