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Rosie’s the only girl he’s ever loved.
Rebel’s no good for her, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting her. He parties too hard, doesn’t care if he does well in school, and fights far too much. But it’s who he is, and no one can change that. But God does he want to be good enough for Rosie.
He’s the only boy she’s ever loved.
They call him Rebel, and the nickname suits him well. Rosie’s known him nearly her entire life, and they are the total opposite. She’s a bookworm, studies hard, and wants to get into a good college. Rebel could care less about any of that. But he’s always been there for her, no matter what, and they are as close as two people can get, but just as friends … or can there be more?
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“Chug. Chug. Chug.”
“Suck it down.”
“Rebel is a fucking maniac.”
Everyone chanted, and Rebel wasn’t going to disappoint, not because he cared about the people around him, but because he needed the liquor to help numb the shit he had inside of him, the emotions he’d prefer to keep buried down. He wanted to be numb, wanted to feel only that pleasurable rush of intoxication claim him.
Rebel held the beer can over his head, had his mouth around the hole he’d made at the bottom of it, and popped the tab on top. He sucked down the alcohol as it rushed into his mouth, not even breathing as he swallowed. Once the last drop slid down his throat he pulled the can away and tossed it aside. Everyone cheered and chanted for him to do another one.
Hell, he did another one because he wanted to, because he wanted to not think about anything that mattered.
The party that was currently being held was in a field behind an abandoned piece of property. The cops either didn’t come out this way, or they didn’t give a shit about some high school seniors fucking around and getting shitfaced in the middle of nowhere. This was usually where the parties were held—well, the badass and chaos filled ones at least.
The feeling of someone running their hand down his arm had Rebel looking behind him and seeing Rebecca, one of the girls from school, grinning up at him. He’d never fucked her, but he knew she wanted to pretty damn badly. She was too desperate, maybe thinking she could “change” him, or make him “settle down”. Or maybe she just wanted the bad boy in school on her arm. Whatever her reasoning was, he’d never stick his dick in her.
The thing was there was only one girl that did it for Rebel, and she was the girl he’d never get to have. That was also the reasoning behind him wanting to feel numb. It was hard as fuck being around the person he loved every single fucking day, and knowing he couldn’t have her.
“Hey, Rebel,” Rebecca all but purred.
He moved out of her grasp and turned around to face her. She wore a low-cut crop top, her belly on display and her tits all but hanging out of the shirt.
“Here, man,” someone said and handed Rebel a fresh beer.
He didn’t look at the guy, just took the can, popped the top, and started drinking as he stared down at Rebecca.
“Maybe you want to go somewhere so we can be alone?” She smoothed her hands over his chest and started making her way down to the crotch of his pants. He could have told her to stop, told her she didn’t do anything for him, again, but she’d find out soon enough he didn’t want her.
She reached his crotch, and the sultry smile on her face faded as she came in contact with his flaccid cock.
“Whiskey dick?” she said with a smirk in her voice.
He finished the beer and tossed the can away.
He grinned. “Girl, I could be hard as fuck while I’m throwing up from being piss ass drunk. You just don’t do it for me.”
Anger covered her face, but she smoothed her expression pretty fucking fast, acting like she didn’t care
Rebel wasn’t a virgin, had slept with girls in the past, but the truth was he hadn’t fucked anyone in years. Fucking. Years. Losing his virginity at a young age wasn’t something he cared about. It wasn’t like he was saving himself for marriage. But it was when he realized exactly how much he cared about Rosie—the girl he could never really have—that he knew no other girl would do it for him.
He wanted Rosie so damn badly, more than he’d ever wanted anyone else. This wasn’t just about him wanting between her thighs. Rosie was special. He was even in love with her, so fucking in love with her that just thinking about Rosie had his chest aching. But being with the girl he wanted was never going to happen.
Her being my stepsister kind of puts that shit on hold.
What no one knew, because he’d sure as hell never say anything, was Rebel was lonely. He partied hard, was an asshole on the best of days, and had no ambitions that went past how numb he could get, and how much he could suppress his emotions. He didn’t strive to do well in school, and as long as he passed that’s all he cared about.
He’d have dropped out of school altogether, because he didn’t really give a shit, but he didn’t want to be one of those loser guys that would rather smoke weed and get drunk for the rest of their lives than at least have a high school diploma.
And you also don’t want Rosie to think you’re an idiot that has no desire to get out of this fucking small town one day.