Leave Me Alone, Big Brothers! [BL] Chapter 59: Playing with Fire

Nathan clicked his tongue, grabbed his bag, and hurried after the boy.

"Hey! Your lunch box!" Nathan shouted, walking faster until he caught up with Zane.

Zane stopped, turned around with a lazy look, and stared at the lunch box in Nathan’s hand. "Just throw it away. I don’t need it."

Nathan fell silent, feeling awkward now. He should have thanked him, but he found it difficult to say the words.

"I didn’t know you why gave a lunch box, but thank you," Nathan said.

Zane looked at Nathan with the sa expressionless gaze, which Nathan thought was pretentious. "It’s yesterday’s leftovers. I wanted to throw it away, but I thought you might want to eat it."

Nathan’s eyes widened instantly. "What? You gave stale food? You deliberately poisoned ?"

He regretted thinking that this boy could change for the better and that they could be friends. In fact, he couldn’t. He took back the small praise he had almost given him.

Zane smirked slightly. "It’s not stale. You’re fine, right?"

Nathan clenched his fists. "Damn it! You gave stale food because you knew I would eat it? Do you think I’m that pathetic?"

Zane, who had only wanted to tease Nathan because of his pride, fell silent this ti. He looked at Nathan, who was staring at him as if he had been hurt and betrayed. He hadn’t expected that reaction.

What happened to this kid? he thought.

But Nathan was sensitive about anything related to humiliation. His life had been hard enough to make him feel inferior. He had experienced all kinds of humiliation. He didn’t want to feel that again.

Zane froze, feeling a little guilty, but his mouth was sealed. He couldn’t even explain that he was just joking.

He held his breath when Nathan threw the lunch box onto the floor in front of him, the sound echoing down the hallway.

Nathan snorted in irritation. He held his stomach, wishing it would be fine. He had often eaten food that was almost stale, and his stomach always rebelled. It was uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to have a stomachache when he had so much to do.

"Bastard," he muttered angrily. He walked toward Nael’s classroom. He wasn’t in the mood, and he hoped the kid was ready to go ho.

***

Twenty minutes later, in the parking lot.

The matte-black sports car was still parked neatly among the others. Zane sat in the driver’s seat, the engine running just enough to keep the heater on.

He wasn’t going anywhere. He just sat there, one hand on the steering wheel, staring at the dashboard.

He looked dazed. The mory of Nathan’s anger made him uneasy. Why was that kid so easily offended? It made people uncomfortable. It was like playing with fire.

He shook his head, running a hand through his ssy dark hair. Why was he the one feeling frustrated?

"Damn it."

In the first place, why had he given his lunch box to that boy? What had he been thinking?

Zane cursed himself. He clicked his tongue and tossed the lunch box onto the seat beside him.

He hated the cafeteria. He hated the noise, the fake smiles, the hierarchy he stood atop but despised. He hated the classrooms, where everyone treated him like a ticking bomb.

He hated everything, and he didn’t know why he was still attending school.

This car was his sanctuary. It was his dining room, his storage unit, his safe house.

Zane glanced at the passenger seat. It was cluttered with things he refused to leave in his locker: a bag, a spare jacket, a bottle of water, and his lunch box.

His eyes drifted to the bag. He reached over and opened it. Inside was his ergency kit, a pack of cigarettes, anxiety dication, and a blue L-shaped inhaler.

Zane’s hand hovered over the plastic device. He picked it up. His mind flashed back to a few days earlier, in the parking lot.

He rembered the panic. The way his lungs had felt like they were filled with wet concrete. The terrifying, high-pitched whistle of his throat closing up. He had been so stressed that day.

In the middle of the attack, he had felt like he was dying. Every movent was agony. He hadn’t even made it to the car before collapsing.

If Nathan hadn’t co...

Zane turned the inhaler over in his fingers.

He rembered Nathan’s face. Nathan hadn’t looked at him with disgust or pity. He hadn’t panicked. He had just acted, efficiently. He rembered the firm voice guiding his breathing. On three. One, two, three.

Zane tightened his grip on the inhaler.

He had been too proud to say thank you. He was a Leinster, admitting weakness to a Salazar was like bleeding in shark-infested waters. So he had driven away, leaving the boy on the pavent.

"He’s different," Zane murmured to the empty car.

At first, he had thought Nathan was just another spoiled Salazar clone. But... Nathan gave him goosebumps. That unsettled him. That made him curious.

When he heard the softness in Nathan’s voice while talking to Elijah, the boy everyone looked down on, it left him speechless. Sohow, it made him respect Nathan. The first Salazar he had ever spoken to.

A Salazar wouldn’t help a nobody like Elijah. A Salazar wouldn’t dump a tray of food on his brother, David Leinster to protect a servant.

Nathan was reckless. He didn’t think before acting or speaking. He didn’t hesitate to pick fights. But he was annoyingly attractive.

And Zane had just pushed a button that made him look like trash.

Why did he even care?

Zane tossed the inhaler back into the bag and slamd it shut. He picked up a protein bar and tore the wrapper open with his teeth.

***

anwhile, Nathan was irritated to find Nael’s classroom empty. He called Louis to check if Nael was already in the car, but he wasn’t.

Nael rejected the call and instead sent a ssage saying he was in a group assignnt. Again?