I want your time and your full attention
I wanna talk to you and not to mention
Chapter 06 ~ Selfish Boy
Bobby Cooper
That Friday, the very last day of carnival week, Ryan's parents allowed him to go to the carnival. It was all he could talk about at school, raving about how his parents needed help with one of their booths, and that he couldn't have been more excited to host a booth. It was a very strange reason for him to be so excited, but if it meant he wasn't staying in the house and staring at the four walls all day, then I was happy for him.
What I wasn't happy about was the fact that Liza had continued to drag me along with her fortune-telling adventures despite my constant refusal. I agreed to help her out for a couple days, not every single day. I still hadn't forgiven her about making up lies about my friendship with Ryan, and it was because of this that I was really starting to think I needed to break up with her again.
Currently, I was stuck by her side as the designated money collector as she continued to tell people false things about their future selves. The person who had just come up to the booth was a pretty brunette with big brown eyes. She flaunted a wide, perfect smile as she took a seat in front of Liza and held out her hands. "I've never done one of these before," she told Liza, even though she was looking at me.
Liza gave her a comforting smile and took her hands. "I can already tell that your future has a lot ahead of you."
"Just by touching my hands?" the brunette questioned after a full moment of having her mouth agape.
"Just by looking at you," Liza clarified with an even wider smile this time. A weird moment of awkward silence settled between them, mostly because Liza had closed her eyes and was already beginning the read her palms. "I'm seeing a lot of success for you. Great paying job, wealthy home, a hot husband?"
I watched as color flushed the brunette's cheeks. "What does this hot husband look like?" she asked as her deep eyes flicked to mine and a flirtatious grin made an appearance on her rosy lips.
Liza scrunched her face. "Dark hair ... dark eyes ... built ..." and as she continued to describe this mystery man, the brunette became more and more intrigued, seemingly because her future husband looked a lot like me.
"Is this handsome guy in my future?" The brunette prodded, which made Liza's eyes snap open instantly. She tore her hands away from the girl's and looked to me for some sort of explanation that I didn't have.
"He can be," I responded, purposefully.
I could practically feel Liza snap from beside me. I didn't have to look at her to know that she was fuming with anger. "Leave," she said between gritted teeth. For a second, I thought she was talking to me until she returned her attention to the girl. "Leave!"
"Oh!" She stood up and fumbled for her belongings. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry." She continued to apologize, but I doubted that Liza was actually listening.
"Why do you keep doing this to me, Bobby?" Her voice was softer than I had expected it to be. "I think I'm a pretty good girlfriend. Why do you always have to flirt with other girls?"
I leaned back in my seat and rolled my eyes, refusing to look at her so that she wouldn't do that thing that she did best—guilt trip me. "Why's it such a big deal? We're supposedly married in the future, aren't we?"
She slammed her hands down on the table in front of her, giving me no choice but to look at her. "No!" she screamed, "I made that shit up!"
I couldn't help my lips from turning into a smile. "Knew it." Liza let out a loud groan that sounded that it came from the depths of her stomach. She threw her hands in the hair, carelessly, and rested her forehead on the table, allowing for her dirty blonde locks to cover her face. "Did you lie about what you said about Ryan, too?"
"No," she mumbled. "Why would I lie about that?"
I shrugged. "Maybe because you're jealous that I have a better relationship with Ryan than I do with you."
Liza glanced up at me, her clear eyes twinkling with something that I didn't quite recognize. Her eyes were glistening, like she was on the verge of crying. "Why are you with me, Bobby?" It was a question that I didn't want her to ask, partly because I wasn't mean enough to actually tell her why I was with her, and partly because I didn't want to lose her. She got on my nerves most of the time, but I needed her in my life in order to feel something.
I was empty. I had no real sense of purpose other than the purpose that my parents had given to me. There was always something missing in my life, and even though I didn't know what it was, I tried my best to fill that hole with things that could take my mind away from my sorrow. I tried to do my best to give Ryan the things that he wanted because I never had anyone really care about things that I wanted.
I wanted to be a paramedic. I wanted to race against the clock to save lives. I wanted to live in a small town, in small house, surrounded by people who didn't know who my parents were, who didn't expect me to live up to their titles, and who would just like me for being Bobby. My parents had always told me that they wanted me to be an important public figure–a politician, a top of the line scientist, a world renowned heart surgeon–and have everyone know my name. Just to spite them, I made sure that everyone knew my name for the wrong reasons.
So when Liza asked me the question of why I was with her, I couldn't find myself telling her the truth and possibly lose another person who was crazy enough to stick around. "Because I like you, Liza," I told her.
She shook her head. "No, you don't."
"Of course I do."
"You like me, but as a friend, don't you?"
I sighed. "Liza..."
"If you really like me, then tell me the things you like about me."
My teeth caught onto my bottom lip, chewing thoughtfully. I couldn't tell Liza the things I liked about her because I wasn't even sure if I liked her at all. She was a great person, a wonderful spirit, and a caring soul, but I didn't want her–much like I didn't want any of the girls that I had sex with. I only wanted something to fill the pain, but that was only temporary. I still haven't found something that was permanent.
Even though Liza's lips tugged into a smile, I could tell that she wasn't actually happy. "I understand."
It hurt me to hurt her. It wasn't like I was out on a mission to destroy everyone's lives, contrary to what people might have believed. "Liza..." I began, hoping to find the words that would help to ease her heart, but she shook her head violently, urging me not to say anything further.
Instead, she pushed her chair out so that she could stand to her full height. "Think I'm gonna take a break," she said, and without giving me time to plead my case, she set an out for lunch sign on the tabletop and excused herself from the booth.
I sat back in my seat, arms folded across my chest, and eyes looking up to the bright sky. Like most things in life, it seemed as though I wasn't going to get my way this time. Maybe I should stop trying so hard to be something that I wasn't, and maybe I should just accept the fate that my parents had bestowed upon me.
My gaze flicked back to the carnival grounds, taking in the sights of the happy-go-lucky teenagers who were so excited to get out of school early and all the parents who were just as excited to be a little kid again. My attention shifted to one of Jamie and Scar's booths in the distance when I saw that Ryan had leaned over the booth and kissed a random girl. It was the last thing I expected to see from him considering that we both knew he played for the other team.
It was funny how when I kept trying to hook him up with some babes, he'd deny me. Now that I had stopped trying, he was getting all the girls—a long line, at that.
Out of amusement and a blooming sense of boredom, I decided to venture off to this little kissing booth thing to get a good laugh at the girls who thought they'd have a chance. Behind Ryan, was Scar (who seemed to be more focused on devouring a slice of pizza than worrying about his gay son kissing females) and beside him was his brother, wearing his varsity jacket as always.
I stood idle, chuckling quietly to myself, as I got a closer look at what was so exciting. Sure, Ryan was a good looking guy with his hazel eyes, always-groomed wavy brown hair, and tan skin, but even I could see that he wasn't particularly enjoying all of this lip service. The boy looked so flustered and out of place—it was actually pretty funny.
My laughter diminished when my eyes caught sight of a man who had joined the end of the line. He looked older—I didn't know by how much, but telling by his facial hair, I knew he couldn't have been in high school—and I was instantly peeved at his presence. So, being the Bobby Cooper that I was, I inserted myself into the line so that I could pry into his business. "You're too old to be in this line," I told him.
The man looked down at me, and one of his eyebrows jumped once we made eye contact. He had small brown eyes that looked like he was constantly scrutinizing something, or someone. "Sorry?" he asked as though he didn't hear me, even though I was sure he had, but I couldn't respond because I was taken back by a very prominent English accent.
The man pulled his lips into a smile, a strangely breathtaking one at that. I had never seen teeth so straight and white before. "I reckon this is a kissing booth, right? For charity?"
"You reckon?" I questioned.
The man tilted his head, obviously confused by my prodding, but he smiled anyway. "I'm just trying to have a fun time. The boy at the booth ... he's cute."
I squinted my eyes at him. "So you're a pedophile?"
The man laughed at that. "I'd like to believe that no, I am not. Just giving to charity is all."
I assessed him a little bit longer before deciding that this guy could possibly be someone that I approve of. So with a huff, I gestured to the booth and said, "that boy up there is my best friend."
"That is ... good to know, thank you."
"And I'm a really great best friend."
He continued to look at me with those scrutinizing eyes of his, before he nodded. "Okay."
"And as his best friend, I have to make sure that he's good at all times," I continued. "The poor guy hasn't gotten laid in ages. I think his dick might've fallen off, I don't know, but basically ... I want you to spice up his life. Give him some of that, you know, whatever you gays do when you get together."
His smile widened and he folded his arms across his chest. "And what is it that you think us gays do when we get together?"
I shrugged. "Have sex? Watch Confessions of a Shopaholic?"
"That's such a good film," he commented.
"Anyway," I snapped, bringing his attention back to the task at hand. "He's not actually interested in any of these girls. He likes dudes."
"I've drawn that conclusion from this conversation."
"So, can you make him happy for me?"
"I can try."
I flashed him a toothy grin in response and turned around to face the front of the line. The reason why Ryan and I got along so well was that we were always thinking of each other. Ryan was responsible for most of the girls I've been with, and now I was going to return the favor.
It was a while until it was my turn at the booth, and when Ryan's eyes met mine, he frowned. "Wow, thought you'd be a little happier to see me."
Ryan sighed. "What are you doing here?"
"Just wanted to see how things are going..." I glanced back at the line to see that the man had his hands shoved into his pockets and was looking into the distance, "...you give any of those girls my number?"
His eyes hardened. "Yes, because as I am kissing tons of people back-to-back, I'm totally thinking about how I should pimp you out to them."
I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm and fished a five dollar bill out of my pocket to hand it to him. "Hi, Mr. Myers-Patterson," I called out.
Scar whipped around to face me and something strange flashed in his eyes. "Hey, Bobby, what's up?"
"Haven't seen you guys in a while."
Scar gave me an apologetic smile, but "yeah," was all he said.
"Anyway—" I returned my attention to Ryan and gave him the biggest smile that I could muster, "—you know that I'd do anything for you, right?"
Ryan looked up to the sky and pretended to think. "I don't think I know that, but what did you do this time?"
"Just know that if you ever find yourself being blessed with gay sex, it was more than likely my doing."
"Bobby, what the hell are you talking about?"
I opted for a cloud of mystery instead of outright telling him what I had done for him; I wiggled my eyebrows at him in a teasing manner and slowly stepped away from the booth.
Ryan continued to look at me with his brows sewn together in confusion, but his stare shifted to the man that had stepped up to the booth. His mouth hung open, but he quickly closed it and shook his head as if it would bring him to reality. "Um..." He began to look around at his surroundings, "...I, uh..."
"Ah!" The British man dug into his rear pocket to retrieve a wallet. "I don't really do this sort of thing."
"Yeah." Ryan attempted a smile, but it looked like a scowl.
The British man handed him a five, and smiled. "So, do I lean in, or do you lean in?"
"We, uh ... we both ... we can both, um, lean in..."
I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous Ryan was being. He never acted like this before. He was always way too busy delivering sarcastic comebacks that I didn't think he could actually be flustered by someone. British guys must be his weakness, I made a mental note.
In the seconds that proceeded, Ryan and the British locked lips in what appeared to be the most awkward kiss in the history of kisses. Both of them acted like they didn't know what they were doing, even though I've seen Ryan kiss plenty of girls before (with pro-like ability, might I add). But no matter how cringe worthy it was, I was happy. I felt horrible about bringing Ryan to the mental asylum and I was sure he'd hate me for the rest of our lives because of it, so this was my opportunity to make it up to him.
Scar cleared his throat and intervened between the couple, using his hands to separate them. "Okay, that's enough. Run along old man."
The British dude gave a curt nod. "The name's Felix, by the way." He was directing his introduction to Ryan, but Scar was the one who responded.
"Yeah, and you can feel up on somebody else your own age."
Felix held his hands up in surrender, but his cheery expression didn't fade. "I respect that," he said just before sending a quick smile to Ryan, and starting into an unknown direction.
Ryan glanced at me briefly, and I could've sworn I saw something strange twinkle in his eyes, but I didn't have a chance to ask because both Bryan and Scar pulled him into a deep conversation.
______
After a successful day of fun match-making, I wasn't entirely looking forward to coming home. On nights like these, I usually spent the night with Ryan, but seeing as though his whole family had some weird vendetta against me, I had no choice but to walk into the house at nearly thirty minutes past my curfew.
"Robert Dane Cooper," I heard my mom's high-pitched voice call from the kitchen. It didn't take me long to match the angry voice with the face. "It's 11:37."
"Okay," I said, nodding.
"You continue to disobey the rules your father and I have put in place for you. Why? Do you not care about your future?"
Sure, I cared about my future, but the future she was talking about was her future ... not mine.
"Are you on drugs?"
I frowned. "What? Mom, no. I'm not on drugs. Honestly, I had a fun day and lost track of time."
"Lost track of time," she repeated, running her tongue along the outside of her front row of teeth, peeved. "You were out with that girl, again, weren't you? I told you, Bobby, she's a horrible influence on you. Her and her little ... witchcraft ... is part of the devil's work to get you off track."
"You think every girl that doesn't have straight A's and successful parents is part of the devil's work," I retaliated as a joke to lighten the mood, but my mother's brown eyes had grown even darker.
Even though I was so hellbent on defying my parents' expectations, it wasn't like they ever punished me for it. They'd give me a nice scolding, maybe something a little more harsh, but I was always free to keep on disobeying them because in their eyes, I was perfect, and you don't punish a perfect son.
"You haven't met a girl that I think is worthy of my attention," she huffed.
I studied her as she waltzed around the kitchen, putting away dishes back into their respective places. Now that I didn't have Liza under my belt to piss off my parents, then I needed to find something else for them to chew on in the meantime.
"Well, what if I don't want a girl?"
"Then what do you want?" She bent down to the floor to put a pot underneath the cabinet. "A boy?"
I shrugged. "Maybe."
She lifted her head to look at me. "Bobby, you're kidding me."
"Nope."
"So, you're gay."
"Potentially."
"Jesus..." Her teeth clamped onto her bottom lip as she thought about what to say, "...you're just going to keep disappointing me, aren't you? I raised you better than this. I raised you to want the best and nothing but the best. The best life, the best car, the best house, the best job, and you don't even care."
"I do want the best," I assured her, "which is why I want the best dick."
She clenched her jaw as her arms fell at her sides in defeat. "This conversation is over."
I whispered a few words of gratitude under my breath and gave her a quick, complacent salute just to anger her further.
______
a/n: I'm really glad that I've gotten back into my groove. It's allowing me to give you guys frequent updates without too long of a break between them.
Now I know what y'all are thinking: He's foreign and he's beautiful. He must be bad news. I can already tell you that I'm not going to be going that direction with this story so you can all sigh in relief. Now that that's out the way ... what do you think of my new baby Felix?
This is the last book in the Kissing Booth series y'all and I want to go out with a bang! So if you're enjoying this, then I'd be really happy if you could vote, comment, and share the love.
Until next time,
Lara <3