• Chapter One: Margaritaville
    Cisco


    I have a love-hate relationship with my best friend, Tyler Hanes.

    On one hand, I love him to pieces. He’s a sweet piece of eye candy, with short, dirty blonde hair and green-blue-gray eyes that make me want to take my pants off in front of everyone and ******** his brains out on the floor. Or a desk. Or something. I’ve been best friends with him since second grade, when he shoved me down a slide and broke my wrist.

    I know, I know, it’s stupid and I should probably hate him for that. But I don’t.

    However, there is still the other hand. And that hand says that Tyler Hanes is a weapon of mass destruction.

    Not like the offensive, war-starting kind.

    The kind where if he looks at you a certain way, he’s guaranteed to break your heart. It makes girls fall into bed with him and then breaks their hearts in the morning.

    And he doesn’t even realize it, the b***h.

    At the moment, he’s sitting on my bed, holding onto my deliciously clean body pillow and infecting it with his stupid sexy cologne smell… Okay, let’s get one thing straight before anyone comments on that.

    I’m gay.

    I’m not, however, gay for Tyler. Well, not in an emotional way.

    More in the ‘if I screwed his brains out once I’d be fine’ way.

    Anyway, he’s sitting on my bed, molesting my lovely pillow and watching me do Calculus homework with this blank look on his face.

    Thank God he’s pretty, because he’s super stupid.

    And then he talks in his sexy, husky voice, and I can tell he’s pouting on the inside right now. “Cisco?”

    Oh, and my name isn’t really Cisco. It’s Danny. But since I’m a computer geek and Cisco makes networking s**t for the internet people, everyone just calls me Cisco.

    I just ignore him and keep doing Calc because honestly, Ty doesn’t make sense half the time. “What?”

    “I think I got a girl pregnant.”

    What?

    I spin around in my chair, staring at Ty, who’s pouting. Like, you know, this isn’t a big deal. I hiss at him. “Who the hell did you get pregnant?”

    “Angelica. She said she missed her period.”

    I think that was when I slapped him across the face.

    I’m not particularly strong. Nor am I threatening.

    I’m five foot six, wiry, and unintimidating, with a mop of brown hair and uninspiring brown eyes.

    I am, however, a pretty damn hard hitter.

    Tyler just turns his head, blinking. His cheek is red and he speaks, his voice soft. “Did you just slap me?”

    Uh oh.

    He sounds pissed.

    But I cross my arms and nod bravely. “Yeah. I did.”

    He looks at me and punches me on the arm. Hard. Hard enough to make me whimper, which is embarrassing. “You’re so gay, Cisco.”

    I glare at him and speak, my voice vehement. “And you’re so damn straight!” Oh, yeah. Witty Comeback Hall of Fame, here I come.

    He glares back at me, the idiot. “At least I don’t suck c**k!”

    “Well, you’ve got the perfect cocksucker lips!”

    We’re both yelling by this point, and both of my parents are downstairs.
    They know I’m gay and they’re cool with it… But I like to push it sometimes.

    Tyler tosses my lovely, clean pillow on the ground (which is a crime in my room, I must say) and yanks me into his lap, screaming, “You want me to suck you off, Cisco!”

    I yell back just as loud, despite the fact that we’re like two inches apart, and grin at him. “You know what? I would like that!”

    He pushes me down on the bed and I start screaming louder as he kneels between my legs, smirking down at me. “Oh, Tyler! Oh, Tyler, yes! Ty, you’re such a dirty little b***h! Mmm… I told you that you had perfect lips!”

    My bedroom door opens all the way and my dad chucks a sandal at us, hitting Tyler squarely in the back of the head. He slumps over, acting unconscious, and I watch my dad roll his eyes. “Tyler James Hanes.”

    Oh, no. He used Ty’s full name. Dad’s going to kill us.

    Tyler hears his tone and musters what little common sense he has up (smart boy) and turns to look at my dad. “Yes, sir?”

    “You and Daniel”-here’s where I interrupt him with a little whimper. He glares at me and corrects himself anyway. Score.-“You and Cisco- happy, you little brat? Okay. You and Cisco have come over to this house after school every single day. Ever. And you have been pulling that stunt every single day since you found out what a c**k was when you were thirteen. That’s five years ago.”

    My and Tyler both snigger when he says ‘c**k’ like it’s the funniest thing we’ve ever heard. He glares at us and continues. “I have to admit, the first few times it was a shock. But now it’s just annoying.”

    Tyler looks at me and then looks at him. “Would it be more shocking if we were actually having sex?”

    My dad blinks, thrown for a loop. “Well, um, naturally, but…”

    Tyler nods and promptly begins peeling off his t-shirt while my hands go to the zipper of his pants, my hips grinding against him as I sing some filthy song as loud as I can.

    My dad takes off his other shoe and chucks it at Tyler’s head, thwacking him solidly and surprising him.

    For a forty year old, my dad has good aim. Two in a row. I’m tempted to throw a shoe back and see if he can do it three times.

    I peer around Tyler’s lean, sexy torso at my dad, who is the approximate colour of a tomato. He glares at me. “Please don’t have sex in front of me.”

    I heave a sigh and buck my hips, Tyler getting off obediently but still taking his shirt off. Hell, I’m not complaining.

    Having such a sexy best friend is a definite plus.

    I sit up and readjust my pants, looking at my dad. “Hey, dad?”

    He drags his hand over his face and gives me a look that clearly says he’s pissed off at me. “What, Daniel?”

    “If the condom breaks and you pull out, does the chick still get pregnant?”

    “Maybe. Why? You get a girl knocked up?”

    I make a face at him and shudder. “Ew, no. Don’t be gross. I was just wondering.”

    He looks at me like I’m crazy and leaves the room. Tyler looks at me and then falls on top of me so I can’t get up, sprawling his body across my stomach. I push at him feebly, not really struggling. “Get off, fat-a**.”

    “If I’m fat than you’re an elephant.”

    “Well, ********, if I’m an elephant, you’re a jumbo jet.”

    He turns his head slightly and focuses those pretty blue-green-gray eyes on me, resting his head against my bed and his chest on my abdomen.
    “How’d you know the condom broke?”

    I shrug, moving my hand and running it through his silky blonde hair on the pretenses of fixing it… when honestly I just want to feel him up.
    “Because you’re stupid, but you aren’t that stupid. I know you use protection.”

    His phone goes off and he sits up, sitting on my poor stomach. He pulls it out of his pocket and answers it, speaking jovially. “Hello?”

    I can clearly hear Angelica’s voice on the other end. “Baby? Where are you?”

    Angelica is Tyler’s b***h… um, girlfriend, rather, of seven months. He’s a football player, she’s a cheerleader, match made in heaven, yadda, yadda, yadda. I know they’re just doing it for popularity purposes, but she’s so goddamn clingy it makes me what to pummel her over-made-up
    face into the side of a building multiple times… but I swear, I’m not jealous.

    Tyler blinks and answers uncertainly. “I’m at Cisco’s… I’m here every day…”

    “Oh, that f*****t? I don’t know why you hang out with him, he’s such a little p***y.”

    I sit up, nearly knocking Tyler off my lap, and put my mouth next to the phone. “Aw, b***h, you’re so nice.”

    “Why are you on the phone with him? What are you two doing?”

    I whimper softly and half-moan, half-purr, “Oh, Ty, don’t you want to do it again? I don’t know, four times just isn’t enough for me.”

    Tyler pushes at my face, backing up off of my stomach. “Come on, man,
    I’m on the phone.”

    “But I want to…”

    Angelica speaks with that stupid, prudish voice of hers. “Tyler, can you go somewhere private? I don’t want to talk about this with Cisco right there.”

    Tyler looks at me apologetically and locks himself in, of all damn places in my house, my closet. I merely stare at the closed door for a few seconds and then get up, fixing my hair before heading down to the kitchen, grabbing an apple and leaning against the counter.

    My parents, who are watching TV, look at me, and my mom’s first to speak. “Where’s Tyler?”

    I look at her and shrug. “He pissed me off. So I killed him and stashed his body in my closet. Why?”

    She gives me that ‘mom look’ and I sigh. “His b***h girlfriend called and he locked himself in my closet to talk to her.” I look off in a completely different direction and I can tell she’s about to respond when Tyler comes thundering downstairs, looking pale and upset. I turn and look at him as he grabs his backpack from the front door. “You’re leaving?”

    Tyler tenses up and turns to look at me, slinging his backpack over one shoulder and locking me with that steady gaze of his. “Um… yeah.”
    “Why?”

    “I have to go somewhere.” He pauses and swallows hard. Normally I would insert some dirty joke, but there’s something wrong. “I… can’t come over after school anymore.”

    My jaw drops. “Why? Tyler, you’ve been coming over here every day forever!”

    He bites his lower lip and his eyes drop. “Look, I just can’t come over anymore, all right? And don’t talk to me at school.”

    My heart drops into my stomach and I walk forward a bit, reaching out to touch him. “Ty, you’re my best-“

    He smacks my hand away and turns his eyes back on me. They’re burning with this intensity, this… hatred, and I have no clue what it is that
    I did wrong. When he speaks, his voice is a bark, a growl, so ******** angry that I jerk back in surprise. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

    I want to cry. I don’t know what it is that I did… I speak, my voice choked with emotion and sounding weak. “Tyler… what did I do? Why can’t you come over anymore?”

    He just looks at me again and then murmurs, “Because you’re a f*****t, man,” before tearing out the front door, slamming it behind him. I hear his truck rev up a few seconds later and put my hand against the counter to steady myself. I have no ******** clue what I did that made him so mad at me…

    And I don’t know why it hurts so bad.