Bad Boy, Good Boy (boyxboy)

20 - good sports, bad outcome

A/N: First chapter of the year 2017 :) 

Hope you all had a wonderful time and I hope this year will be wonderful, although it might me fool's hope, but let's be fools and hope anyway. 

(I might not be able to post as soon as I would like, because of exams, but I will post. I'm not forgetting you, lovelies, nor am I forgetting Lucas.)

Chapter 20 – good sports, bad outcome

If you want to know how to feel alive, here's how: don't fall in love, because that's just stupid; get into a fight and you won't believe the amount of adrenaline that you'll get out of it. You will feel energized for days (in theory). You will also be in a lot of pain, but that depends on how good of a fighter you are and who your opponent is.

I'm in pain, but it feels good. At least I'm not in a hospital.

But it's no better waiting in front of the office of my old principal.

Marcus is staring at his bleeding knuckles. I'm holding a bag of peas to my head. My head is numb from the cold, but everywhere else it hurts.

We've been waiting for ten minutes already, neither of us saying anything.

Marcus sighs. I'm expecting him to speak first.

He sighs again.

"What?" I snap, not able to control my temper. Even though I'm pretty beaten down, the adrenaline is dancing in my veins and I could survive one or two matches still.

"I wish you'd punched me back more," Marcus shrugs and turns his head to look at me.

I roll my eyes. "Sure, you wish," I say. The nerve on that bastard. Sorry, princess, but I was thinking of myself and how to get beaten, not to beat someone else.

Marcus laughs, his voice hoarse, so hoarse. "When have I ever lied to you," he cocks an eyebrow.

I don't reply, but then realize he's genuinely waiting for an answer. "Sorry that I can't recall, because my head is quite the mess." Everything about him makes me lose my shit. Can't we just get over with the lovely meeting with the principal, because I'd very much like to leave. I still have more than half a pack of cigarettes to smoke and the clock keeps on ticking.

"Why didn't you fight back?" He's not talking about our fight anymore. He seems concerned, but that's just the regular dose of bullshit Marcus has to offer. No more, no less. Just the right amount. My leg starts shaking. I'm nervous and uncomfortable and I want to make a run for...not the money, but maybe for a nice nap.

"Don't the rumours explain it?" I spit it coated in sarcasm, but I'm interested in getting an answer. What do the rumours say about me?

"You ended up in a hospital," he says quietly and presses his knuckles to his mouth, licking the blood away. "The minute you'd punched Mickey, the other two would have escaped like toddlers. I'm a curious guy, Luke. You know that. You especially know that."

I let my head fall back and wince when pain slices through my skull. "Everything's a game to you."

The right side of his mouth twitches into a smirk. "Everything's a game, because I like playing. Still, next time Mickey comes at you, even if it's because of me, please kick him or hit him or something. That wasn't very entertaining what happened," he says.

The door of the office opens and the principal pokes his head out. Marcus, still looking at me, holds up his index finger. "In a minute," he says, unwavering, adressing the principal without actually adressing him.