Chapter 15

Encounters with his rival came in short supply, but each brief moment was always so intense and unpredictable. So, as he went to grab his equipment for football practice, it colored West surprised when he found the lightning-eyed boy leaning back against his car as if he owned it, arms crossed and eyes remaining out in the distance even as the blond anxiously moved forward.

"Yo. Flower Boy."

West could barely contain a shiver from hearing that deep, gravelly voice. "Neil? I thought you-"

"Just fuckin' listen!" Neil turned sharply to glare at him as he snapped. Those blue eyes subtly went from West to the school entrance yards away. "Don't wanna have t' break the rest of fire-crotch's nails."

West couldn't help but look back as well, suddenly dreading his cousin's appearance – who should be working on his campaign for student council.

"Just me, Flo," the other boy called him back. "You can just stand there an' keep lookin' gorgeous.

Two things.

Flo. That was new. A shortened version of his actual first name. So unlike an adversary to do that, but it proved what West thought about every time they interacted with each other. They were unpredictable.

Secondly, "gorgeous." Did Neil really think West was gorgeous or was it just another taunt? Either way, it made the blond blush, feeling a bit flattered.

"So, uh, what is it?" he chose to move past the strange compliment, not wanting it taken back.

Neil quickly looked back and to the right before returning his scowl to his rival. "Look. I don't know how you found out about… what I do but-"

West lifted a hand. "Not judging, man. I didn't even try to look you up or anything." He had to stare straight into Neil's eyes for that one because it was the truth, but now he was curious, damn it. "And he didn't mean to spit it out, but we won't go spreading rumors. I'll make sure of it."

Neil's lips thinned, unconvinced. "But that's just it, Chico flor. How th' fuck do you even know 'bout that shit? The only time I said a word 'bout it was…"

West kept quiet as the noirette thought back, but he couldn't keep the guilty expression from crawling onto his face. He was lucky so far that the other boy had yet to start beating on him.

"Were you… were you there when…?"

"During the pep rally in the bathroom," West finished, eyes downcast in shame. "If it's any consolation, I was there first."

"And you expect me to believe any of you won't use that against me? You dead-ass right now?"

Neil's shock melted back into dark anger, his sharp blue orbs practically eviscerating West. He needed to placate the boy and fast. It took everything in him not to retreat a step and look the bigger male in the eye.

"Dude, I know you don't trust easy, but believe me when I say that I'm not that kind of person. I know I'm… well-known around here, but that's just a byproduct of being in a family whose always been in the spotlight. I really didn't ask for any of it, but I will never abuse for pettiness."

Neil shook his head, turning away. "You're buggin'."

"No, I'm serious," West took a brave step forward. "Most of the fame actually comes from my father."

The blond received an incredulous look at that.

"You mean to tell me that if it were up to you, you wouldn't wanna be the son of a famous foreign basketball player or one of the top four basketball players in school? Fuck outta here with that bullshit!"

West shrugged. "I mean, I wouldn't ask for any other dad. He's pretty amazing."

A frown graced the noirette's face as he stared off into the sky once more. "Yeah."

It was awkwardly silent for half a minute before Neil shook out of his reverie and set those broody eyes back on the blond. "What else do ya know?"

God, he'll probably regret saying this, but there was no use hiding it. "Uh, you're a pretty great singer."

Surprisingly, Neil only sighed and deadpanned, "That, too, huh?"

Feeling somewhat encouraged, the blond explained. "Sometime during the summer. You didn't see us, but I thought you and Shaun made a pretty good team. Also, at the open house, Jorge let the name spill, so…"

The bigger boy bowed his head and began muttering in what West assumed was Spanish.

"Are you… guys in trouble or something?"

Neil's head snapped up and threw the other male daggers with a narrowed glower. "'The fuck you mean?"

Shit.

"Well, I was there in the bathroom," Well swallowed as he soldiered on. "You know that now. You sounded-"

"Well, it ain't any of your fuckin' business, Flower Boy! Stick to th' limelight. No need to step into the dark, ya hear?"

Neil was up in his face and West's nose picked up on the scent of piney woods.

"I- We're trying to figure out what's going on in this town, man. Something isn't right. Not only the vandalism at my house, but just… I don't even know where to begin."

"What makes you say that?"

"You have a brother, right? An older one? Bran?"

That question sent Neil reeling for the second time today. The noirette stepped away from his adversary with a gaping mouth. "How-"

West continued. "Kaspar and I, uh, work at Tuct-In. You know, the group home not too far from here? My boss, Theresa Moldier, is your brother's fiancé. I think you knew that, but-"

Neil spun around so violently it made the blond flinch away, holding his hands up in front of his face in protection from a sudden fist. Instead, the lightning-eyed boy stomped away some ten feet before whirling back around.

"¡Meirda! ¡Maldición! ¡Maldición!" The noirette spat and cursed as he angrily paced between West and the middle of the street, viciously scratching his hair.

"Neil?" the blond spoke up tentatively. "Dude, are you alright?"

Neil froze in front of West, staring at the latter for an odd moment before gruffly asking, "Does my… brother know 'bout you!?"

"Y-Yeah. We met him on the first day of the job."

"Fuck!"

West jumped, and Neil was back to marching back and forth, mumbling in a mixture of Spanish and English. The former was by no means an expert in foreign languages, but in between all that, he thought he heard "no time left."

No time left? What did that mean?

Then, it hit him.

"He's getting impatient."

He recalled hearing that at some point during his eavesdropping in the bathroom.

Could "he" be Neil's brother? Bran already seemed like a shady individual. It wouldn't be much of a stretch if the older Morterero had caught his little brother up in some shit.

Neil's attention was back on his rival, stopping only a couple of feet from him. "Listen, man. I'm dead-ass when I'm sayin' this, alright."

West shakily nodded, but that didn't seem to be enough for the larger boy.

"Alright!" the noirette hissed, making the blond wince.

"Y-Y-Yeah! Yeah! Alright!"

Neil leaned in close until their foreheads were touching. And West couldn't breathe but forced himself to listen.

"Stay. The fuck. Away. From. My brother. Don't speak to him. Don't even look at him. And tell that to fire-crotch an' the rest of your buddies, yeah?"

West nodded again. "Yeah, s-sure, dude. I mean, I figured something was off about him the last time we spoke."

"What do you mean?" the lightning-eyed boy moved back as he questioned.

"I just… I don't even think Theresa knew he was even there that time. It felt like… he wasn't even supposed to be there, you know? It was… weird. The first time we met him, he told us to say hello to you."

West couldn't guess what happened next, but it was as if every cogwheel inside Neil promptly malfunctioned. His eyes went wide and focused intensely on the blacktop while his right hand reached up and started nicking at his chest, bunching his shirt over and over again.

The motion reminded him of the bruises he spotted on Neil that day he was caught at Wildwood. Considering the first time West saw Bran, it might not be far-fetched to believe that the strange man was the one to inflict such injuries.

However, this was beyond just weird. It was as if the noirette was stuck in some kind of trance – still as a statue and scratching vigorously at his torso.

"Neil?" West called, but the bigger male took no notice. "Neil? Neil? Dude?" He reached over and placed a gentle hand on his rival's broad shoulder.

That seemed to do the trick. Neil flinched, blinking out of his daze. "What?"

"You alright? I think you spaced out there for a minute."

The bigger boy grimaced before slapping West's hand away.

"Don't worry that pretty lil' head of yours," he rasped. "I'm fine. Just stay away from my brother. I know you're a butterfly when it comes t' people, but don't try shit this time. Nothin' good will come of it."

"I don't-"

"Shit, Flo! Say you'll keep away from him, yeah!?" Neil yelled in frustration, and once again, West was forced to submit.

"Alright! Alright! I'll stay away."

And with that, the noirette turned on his heel and headed down the parking lot, away from West and the school. West felt his stomach hollow out a bit. It was no question he was intimidated, but it was the longest conversation he had with his adversary yet. And that had to show for something.

"I really do want to help, man!" West shouted to him.

Neil kept walking, not even turning around as he answered back. "Ain't a fuckin' charity case."

"I know! It's just… something really fucked up is going on in this town."

"Stay in th' limelight, Flower Boy."