Stuck in the Middle

Chapter 18

Marc

John stood inches in front of me, reeking of his stupid sandelwood cologne he always bathed himself in. I couldn't help but be proud of the red mark I left on his face. I had been waiting to punch him all weekend for touching Spencer.

My Spencer.

If only. 

I wanted him to be mine so badly, I ended up pushing him away. I pushed him right into John's arms.

"Never took you to be into guys," John sneered. His breath smelt like ketchup.

I scoffed. "You're one to talk."

"At least I can admit to myself that I'm bi. You're too scared, aren't you?"

My chest tightened and my pulse sped up. He didn't know. He couldn't possibly know.

He laughed. "You are scared! You're just a wimp, then. No matter how hard you can hit."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Oh, I can hit even harder. That was just for practice." My hand balled into a fist. I wanted to punch him again so badly.

"Lucky for me, I don't need a practice shot."

His fist slammed into my face. It hurt. Man, did it hurt. I tried my best to not show it, though. I couldn't let him think I really was a wimp.

"Barely felt that," I said, swallowing down a slight taste of blood.

"How long have you been with Spencer?" John asked, surprising me. I expected another punch, not that question.

"Longer than you, I bet." I doubted John could be with someone for as long as I've been with Spencer. Four weeks seemed like a lifetime when he only had a history of a single night in his past.

He smirked. "I'll take that bet. It was the first week of school. Right after he pulled that stunt with the project."

The lump in my throat was back. That was exactly when I first told Spencer I liked him. He couldn't have possibly been with us both this whole time, could he? How did I not notice?

I turned to ask Spencer who was first, but he wasn't there anymore. I glanced up at his bed, but that was empty.

"Where'd he go?" I asked John. "He'll clarify. He'll tell you that I was first."

"Yeah... too bad that's not true."

I almost punched him again. His arogance was wafting off him in waves. I hated it. I hated him. My face still stung from where he hit me and I wanted him to feel the same. He probably was stronger than me. Maybe hitting him in the same spot twice would equal his one shot.

So I hit him.

I hit him again and again, unable to stop myself. It wasn't even just his face. Anywhere my fists found a spot to land, they did. He got some shots in too, actually probably more than I did. But it felt so good to finally be physically fighting with him, no matter how much his punches hurt. For the last year, we've only verbally faught. A year of pent of rage was finally coming out, for both of us.

John and I have hated each other from the moment we met. I was the star of my old school's football team. He was the star here. He thought I was trying to steal his spot, but I couldn't help it if I was better than him. Our first day of practice, he got pissy that I was outshinning him and, from that moment on, we argued over everything. We were constantly competing with each other.

And yet, somehow, we both ended up with the same boy. Honestly, I wasn't all that surprised, considering we did pretty much everything else together, in terms of our sports teams. The one person I thought I'd have to myself, he took too.

An echo of a conversation the three of us had weeks ago popped into my head. John was on his back, under me, and I still don't know how that happened. I stopped myself from hitting him again.

"You were the one Spencer kissed at that party," I said, lowering my arm.

He nodded, breathing heavy. His lip was cut open and his cheek was starting to turn a nasty shade of purple. I probably didn't look any better.

I climbed off him, with a little difficulty. I probably had a bruised rib or something. But he was telling the truth after all. Spencer was with both of us this entire time. While I was downstairs kissing some girl, he was elsewhere with John.

It was all my fault. I really did push Spencer away.

"I need to talk to him," I said.

John scoffed, sitting up. "You look like a mess, dude. He's not going to even want to look at you, let alone talk."

"You should look in a mirror before you say shit like that about me."

He shook his head but didn't respond, getting to his feet. I noticed him wince, which I was glad about. So I did cause him some pain, too. Good.

I sat on the edge of my bed. There was a weird atmosphere in the air and I wasn't sure if I was imagining it or not. We just beat the shit out of each other over a guy. I never thought my life would ever come to that.

"We fucked up, didn't we?" John asked, sitting down on his own bed. "With Spencer."

I sighed. I didn't know his side of things, but I know I definitely ruined things with Spencer. I got way too angry for doing the exact same thing I've done to him. It wasn't right.

"What did you do to him?" I asked. I wasn't sure if I really cared or not, but he did look pretty upset.

He shook his head. "I don't know. He hasn't said a word to me since Friday. Completely disappeared. No clue where he was all weekend. I must have done something."

I almost laughed. Leave it to John to fuck up but not know how. But then I realized I probably had something to do with it. I was pissed at Spencer for kissing John, especially right after I accidentally told him I loved him. He probably felt guilty, knowing him.

I hadn't meant to tell him that I loved him. It really did just slip out. I wasn't actually in love with Spencer, of course I wasn't. I did care about him a whole lot, but I didn't think I could call it love yet. And then I got so angry at him for being with John, I couldn't even explain myself properly to him.

It really was all my fault, wasn't it?

How did I managed to screw everything up?

A/N: I hope you enjoyed Marc's POV! I'll probably include a chapter for John at some point, although I don't know when yet.