Chapter 3

OLIVER

Judah Adams. This was perhaps among the names I dislike the most.

The owner of the name was smirking at us, amused by the fact that he had just given us a fright. His eyes sparkled with malicious humor.

If it were not for his eyes, you never would have guessed he was Rick’s brother. The two looked vastly different.
Rick had a broader stature and a bulkier physique. His facial features were rugged and sharp, sporting a v-like chin. Not to mention he was the taller brother standing at around 6ft3.

Jude on the other hand…if you can picture a pretty boy, you have an idea how he looked like. His piercing hazel brown eyes danced with a good mixture of amusement and solemnity.

Unlike his brother, he had a leaner athletic build – ironically enough because he was a professional athlete and track – and his face was more even shaped like a slightly disfigured rectangle with a buzzcut and full lips.

He was maybe a inch shorter than Rick which figures since he’s the younger brother.

And his skin was way darker than Rick’s; a dark chocolate shade that looked extremely shiny and marvellous when applied lotion or moisturiser that…

Wait a minute…

The way I’m describing him you’d think I had a crush on him. Ew. Never in a lifetime.

I disliked Jude with a passion. When we met we didn’t click at all. He kept encroaching on my personal space like a needy dog until he got the memo and stopped it. I guess it bothered him that I didn’t suck up to him like other gay dudes because he was good-looking even though he knew he was straight. His ego is so outrageously high that it turned me off. A petty reason to dislike someone but I don’t care.

Ever since then, he’d made it a mission to make fun of me in any way possible.

“What were you doing outside?” Rick demanded, “At this hour?”

Jude laughed, his deep baritone voice reverberating through the air. It was his most peculiar feature-so cool and deep and at odds with his soft face that you could not imagine it coming from his mouth. “Relax. I was out jogging.” He pointed at his track shoes. “I’m in the school Athletes team remember?”

He glanced at me, his mouth curling into a mocking smile.” Hey Shorty. You look more scared than my grandma’s chicken. Did I spook the nerd out of you?”

Rick smacked his arm. “Hey, be nice.”

My cheeks burned. I was barely 5’6 but standing next to him I looked like a child. Jude smiled like he could read my thoughts. He knew I hated being called short.

Looking at him smirking at me right now, a flash of images ran through my head: Jude and a few of his friends making fun of me wearing lip gloss and moisturiser at school, Jude mocking me for being so weak after tripping on my shoelaces, Jude criticising my pink socks….

I took a deep breath and pushed past him and Rick with huge steps, determined not to look back.

“Can’t he take a joke?” I heard Jude say faintly.