Topping the Jock

Chapter Nineteen

A.N. PHOTO IS OF REMY'S SPICY SISTER, JOSHUANNE, played by Saoirse Ronan. She isn't a huge character but I liked her name and she was a useful character, as you'll be learning shortly. ENJOY! VOTE AND COMMENT, MY DARLINGS! XOXO

CHAPTER NINETEEN - MILO'S PRECIOUS P.O.V

"I'm not going." I was being serious. Completely, totally, and utterly serious.

She did that hand-on-hip thing that all moms seem to do when they don't get their way. She should have learned by now that Milo Young does not do as he is told. He was a wild thing, a free thing, he couldn't be tamed. He was now refering to himself as a he. Which isn't at all weird. So shut up. And stop judging.

"Get up," she said, in that concerned, motherly, yet slightly annoyed voice that she usually put on when I disobeyed her. "Right. Now."

My mom was the kind of woman that was always amazingly nice, in that really annoying kind of way. One of those really nice people that you rarely ever meet, and when you do, you put them up on this great golden pedistal because you think they must be the nicest, sweetest person in the world.

Maybe I was just overthinking it, but when I met a really, outstandingly nice person, I admired them a lot. Even though nice people kinda make me sick to my stomach with their nice, smiling faces and their nice words that obviously must have some kind of hidden meaning because no one person can be that nice.

I turned over in my bed, lying on my stomach, and pushed my head under my pillow, hiding from the world. I was not about to just waltz back into that school like I was the same person as I was yesterday, before everyone knew.

I mean, yeah, I am that same sexy-ass bastard, but now everyone knows about me. Everyone would torture me. I'd have no friends, I'd become the bullied, pathetic little victim. And I'd rather tie the noose than give in.

"I'm dead," I groaned at her. "Dead people don't go to school," I reminded her.

"Dead people also don't get allowance, so I guess I can keep your fifty bucks, yeah?" she said cheekily.

I laughed. "Ha. No. You're not funny, Mom."

"Neither are you. Now get up and get dressed. You've got school, punk." She sat down at the bottom of my bed, slowly wriggling me to try and get me up. I just wanted her to leave me alone, couldn't she just do what I wanted for once? I wanted to be left to my own shit, I wanted to lie down and wallow and bubble like a pregnant fish in my own pools of self-pity.

"Can't I just slowly slip into a coma? And then you all get really worried and stuff, and then the beeping of one of those hospital machines would stop and you would all know that a great person died today and you would never move on or get over me because I'm your only child and you love me and so when I tell you I don't want to go to school, you accept it without asking why and just leave me be. Can you be that kind of mom, please? Just be a cool mom, yeah? Thanks. See you later."

"Excuse me, Milo." She sounded annoyed. Like, seriously annoyed.

"Huh? Ugh, what now? That's it, where are the razor-blades, I'm ending it all!"

"Don't you dare joke about that! Don't you ever! What's wrong? Has something happened at school? Are you being bullied? Who are they? Who's got my lovely little baby boy feeling suicidal? That's it. If some stupid little kid thinks he can lay his hands on my son, I'll cut him. I'll strangle him with my bare hands. I'll sodomise him with my hair curlers!"

"Mom," I moaned, sitting up. "Don't be so disgusting. No one has the gall to bully me, have you even met me? If you're gonna get all gooey on me, at least be realistic."