We're Not Linking! (MxM)

Chapter 2

I saluted and waddled my way to the sink and scrubbed my hands with soap, rinsing with water. Then finally, she allowed me to take a bite as I fell into heaven. It was so delicious, my mouth sucked in the extra gaps of fat which were my cheeks.

"Thanks, I'll be in my room studying. If mom comes home, warn me." We both gulp at the same time. Mom's fucking scary when she's angry, so immediately, my twin agreed and shooed me away.

Thankfully, Mom didn't arrive back home until late ten thirty. She was dead tired and slapped her heels near the doorway and slumped to the couch. She spoke in slow Spanglish and rambled on and on how bad her coworkers were today. According to her words, some man in his early thirties named Kevin Riveras pissed her off somehow, but she wouldn't explain how.

Oh well. As long as she doesn't find out, I'm as well as a puppy being protected.

"Nacho, we need to have a talk tomorrow when I get home." She ordered sleepily.

I flinched at her words and exchanged glances with Penelope. She shushed me, yet I still had a hard time letting my mind and heart process at the same exact time. "What do I do!?" I mouthed to Penelope, and she made a gesture where I should 'zip my lips up'. I did exactly what she told me and nodded towards my exhausted mother.

"Si mami," I answered. "We will talk tomorrow."

I am so fucking done.

***

"There you are!"

I shut my locker, holding books in my hand. I took a moment to look and Enoch was already in front of me. I eyeroll and walk the opposite direction from where he blocked. Day 1, and it's already a nitpick.

"You're gonna have to get used to it whether you like or dislike it." he spoke, walking right beside me. I tried my best to ignore it, but he kept talking, talking, and talking like we'd be stuck together forever. Who knows! Maybe his dream will come true, and we're fates. Still, I'm gonna reject him if he's my soulmate.

I jerk my head and shoot him a glare. "Can you shut up?" I snap, "I have Photography first period, and you're not in that class. Take your stuff and leave if you don't want to be late."

He pauses and lowers his head as he watches me leave him behind. Fucking hell. First of all, both you and I are students who care about our attendance and our grades, so go on with your own life. Secondly, you should know we don't like each other. When we met in the office, we both glared, so why are you acting like this is something important? Third of all, there's something called ✨personal space✨. I have my boundaries for my ✨personal space✨.

I went straight into the classroom and greeted the professor. This is needed. Greeting your teachers is accustomed to respect. They may say, "I love you guys and care for you..." some of them do, but you have to earn their respect and treat them well. Despite them being mean, they're just strict because they want the best for you. UNLESS they just genuinely hate kids. Then, they shouldn't be teaching at all if they hate kids—especially around my age.

On the other hand, Professor Cronwell is a pretty cool maestra. She's like so fucking creative. If you see the images she takes, your jaws are gonna drop to Hell, and Satan's gonna be like "The fuck?".

Professor Cronwell stood up from her seat, and the bell rang. A few students had to take a moment before entering the classroom. The number of students was quite smaller than the average. This is why I like this class. You have a more one-to-one experience with the teacher rather than it being a larger one. Larger ones are usually more obnoxious.

She shut her eyes and greeted the whole class. Pointing at the first lesson of the day, we were going to explore other classes and clickity click at what they're working on. We were going to wait a few minutes to let them get settled before beginning to do so. We were assigned certain room numbers. Professor Cronwell mentioned this would be a big project for the yearbook. Sounding totally fun, I now stood in Garrett's first period. Who's in it? Him, his gang, and him.