Rules Of The Game: Book 1

12; Cute Boys Are Off Limits

𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟼𝚝𝚑, 𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢
Miles POV

Friday night lights must be a legit thing in California because, I swear, the entire tri-state area is here at the field tonight.

I tuck my hands into my pockets and follow the crowd toward the bleachers, instinctively protecting my wallet and car keys. I'm not sure if any of these white folks are pick-pockets, but I'm not willing to find out.

As I walk towards the field, I keep my chin up, keeping an eye out for familiar faces. I recognize some people from school here and there, a handful of teachers. Roses' dark red hair catches my eye as she bounds up the bleacher stairs, racing down to the student section. But that's not who I'm looking for.

After a second, I realize with a pang that I'm looking for Parker.

Mercy, that kid.

Ever since our first interaction, I will honestly admit that I've had the hots for him. But after our recent conversations, seeing him make out with that blonde chick at capture-the-flag, and he witnessed me race a car while stone-cold drunk, I don't think I'm exactly on his radar.

I don't blame him for not being interested, except I also don't want to be wrong. Maybe there is a glimmer that he could be gay or bi, but I didn't want to be the one to "out" him.

My plan to get guys looks a lot like this: Start a conversation, flirt, throw in some sexual remarks and see how they respond.

That's when things would get tricky.

I usually either get guys at a loss for words, so mortified and angry that I would have to hightail the fuck outta there to avoid getting my ass beat.

Other times, I would get guys who threw it right back and checked me out knowingly, curiously, ultimately giving me the green light. Sometimes signals get jacked up in translation, and it's hard to decipher. Still, I usually have an excellent gay-dar (my term for a "gay radar").

So far, Parker is a blurry splotch on my radar. Maybe he is gay, and maybe he isn't. I've seen the way he steals glances at me. Unfortunately, I catch many people staring all the time, so that's not exactly reliable information.

I do my best with the information I get.

I bring myself back into reality and slip around a group of girls, gently resting my hand on one of their waists and winking as I pass by. "Sorry, my bad. Excuse me."

The poor girl turns a shade of deep red and starts stammering, but I keep walking, especially now that I hear the muffled words of the game announcer introducing the players on the field.

I extend my stride and rush to reach the bleachers, looking up at the seats. It's damn near packed up there already. People are even setting up blankets and chairs on the grass near the field.

What would homecoming look like if this was a regular Friday night game?

Just as I reach the stairs, Roses blond haired boyfriend comes jogging up. I search my head for his name. Something with trees... Oak? Woods? Wait, Forrest.

"Hey, Forrest, right?" I ask as he comes closer and looks up at me.

He smiles politely, showing off his nice teeth. He's kinda cute, in a golden-retriever-puppy sort of way. Not really my type, though.