This follows on from the previous chapter as I have decided to try and give this story a proper shot. Sorry that it's such a short chapter, but I hope future chapters will be a bit longer - I'm just getting back into my stride with this one and just wanted to get something out there!

WARNING: Slash

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Randy Orton. But all the OCs are mine.

No beta. Just me :-)

Hope you like x


Chapter 2

I lean back in my seat, fumble with the handle and recline backwards, so that my head is only just visible behind the steering wheel. Raising my hips slightly, I tug the half empty, half crushed pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I pull one out with my mouth as I toy with the lighter.

From here, I have the perfect vantage point. I glance at the clock on the dashboard. My stomach tightens. My eyes flick back to school entrance. I scan the street, my whole being anticipating the first glimpse. I have to take several deep drags to steady myself.

And then, just as the big clock hand shifts level with the nine, he appears in the far corner of my vision. His long legs cover twice as much distance in one stride than anyone else around him, making him easy to spot. That and his height: despite his low-slung head and hunched over shoulders, he still towers over everyone by at least a head. Yet his efforts to make himself invisible seem to work. He slips into the background, un-noticed by everyone. Except me.

I watch as he follows the crowd into the gates, shifts his backpack from one shoulder to the other, stuffs a hand into the back pocket of his pants and makes his way uneasily towards the double doors.

It's the same every morning, but for me, it never gets old. I think I could watch him forever. I imprint every moment on my mind, ready to use when I'm alone. When I close my eyes, the sight of him leaning against a wall is enough to send my mind into over-drive. But these few moments in the morning are the most precious. These are moments where I don't have to look through my facade. It's just me and him. I have to savour it before I put up the barricade and pretend to be the jock with the hot girlfriend and hide way my sick thoughts until I'm alone once again.

I wind down the window and flick the cigarette butt out. I glance in the wing mirror and with a jolt realise that today I have to put together the facade quicker than usual; Bea is sauntering towards me, a finger twisting around a thick lock of hair, her lips slicked in red and skirt riding slowly up her thighs. I quickly readjust my seat, grab my bag and open the door before she can reach me.

"Hey baby," she breathes in my ear, her arms encircling me before she goes in for the kill. Her lipstick somehow makes it way into my mouth and I resist the urge to spit the taste out.

"Hey." I sling a courteous arm around her shoulders as we walk towards school.

"So, my mom is out tonight... Y'wanna come over?"

I shrug. "I dunno."

"Why not?"

I wrack my brain for a half-decent excuse. My silence doesn't do anything to defuse the situation. I can see her pouting with every passing second. Very occasionally, I do feel slightly bad about how I act with her. So I turn and wrap my arms around her just before we reach the double doors.

"I'll see okay? I mean, I've got football practice later and then I said I would meet the guys at The Cavern. But I could drop by after that?"

She smiles. "Sure." She leans towards me and kisses me, mercifully, on the cheek. She wipes away the red stain with a giggle and then heads off in the direction of her fellow red lipped, short skirted friends.

I head inside, the taste of lipstick still on my tongue as I push my way through the masses towards first period.

Leaning against the lockers a few metres away from the classroom are Jay and Rich. I suppress thoughts of Randy even deeper into my subconscious and greet them with extra macho gusto.

But as Jay begins to tell me about what happened after me and Bea left last night's debauchery at the Cavern, mostly involving his latest conquest, someone shoves into me from behind. I wheel around and come face to face with...

"Dude, what's your problem?" scowls Rich, stepping up shoulder to shoulder with me. "You think just 'cause you're a fucking giant it gives you the right to walk around like you own the fucking place?"

Randy blinks, his shoulders hunched forward even more, lowering his eyes.

Jay steps forward, attempting to shove Randy with his own shoulder. He fails miserably and results in shoving Randy in the armpit. Yet Randy stumbles back slightly.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"You fucking better be," growls Jay. "You touch him again and he ends up with something broken and we know who to hunt down. You really wanna cost this school that football championship by injuring our star player huh?"

"Sorry," Randy mumbles again, taking a step back, almost bumping into Mr Scott, who gives him a similar look of distain.

Rich steps towards Randy, but I reach out and grab his shoulder. "Leave it."

He turns and gives me a strange look but lets Randy shrink away into the classroom. The rest of the class, oblivious to the past few minutes, follow inside and we tag on the end, taking our usual places at the back of the room.

As Mr Scott asks us to turn to page 47, I chance a glance over at Randy. He sits on his own, one row from the back, leaning against the wall, the large bookcase that lines the far side of the room, almost sheltering him from view. His legs stretch out under the desk, his feet almost pressing against the chair in front of him. And then suddenly, he retracts, hunches over the textbook, his pen tapping away incessantly on his notepad. He stares up at Mr Scott for a second and then his gaze starts to wander around the room.

I know I should look away. But I can't.

His eyes slowly meet mine. He stares wide-eyed for a moment and then he seems to relax. I swallow.

I want to look away. I have to look away. Without giving anything away.

So I shoot him a scowl and before I can look away, he quickly averts his gaze back to the text book and I almost sigh with relief.

And then Jay passes me a scrap of paper:

I heard Bea went commando last night. True or false?

I give him a curt nod and duly respond to the silent high five.

But all the time, I swear I can feel someone watching me. When I chance another glance over at Randy, he is still hunched over, eyes down, with only a slight shade of pink creeping up his neck.