Scott and Scamp

By Kayci Morgan

When a young man is rescued by a delinquent, he falls in love, risking everything to walk in this bad boy's world.

Justin Smith was small for his age and constantly bullied. But as difficult as life was, he was surviving it. Then one day a new guy comes to his school and flips his world upside down.

Francis Scott is trying to start over. New school. New house. New life. But when he sees a student being bullied, his past comes back to haunt him and for once, he gets to do what's right.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kayci Morgan
• Release date: Apr 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386325031

Kayci Morgan

Kayci Morgan has had a passion for romance and fantasy for as long as she can remember. She lives in Chicago with her family. In her cozy apartment, she spends endless nights tapping away at her keyboard and playing computer games unheard of by normal people. Her English Literature degree serves as a superb coaster for her 20oz mug of coffee. Follow her sleep deprived ramblings at her website: http://www.kaycimorgan.com Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kcmwriter Twitter: @kaycimorgan

Book preview

1

Inever thought my story was worth telling, but then again, I am not really telling my story. I’m telling his. Let me introduce myself, my name is Justin Smith. I would say I am just an average kid, but that is not true. I am the kid that the average kid can’t remember. If you are an average kid then we probably share about three classes and even though my name sounds vaguely familiar you can’t connect a face to it. And if you ever saw a picture of me, I would be the kid you had seen around school whose name you never learned. That was my existence and I was quite content with it. I wasn’t happy, but things could have always been worse.

I had just started my senior year when I met him. I had just turned 18, yet I was still very small. I am 5’3 and I weigh 110 pounds soaking wet. I have medium blond hair that stops at my cheeks and bluish grey eyes. Both my size and lack of friends got the attention of one group at school. They called themselves the High Rollers, a group of popular kids that took amusement in torturing me. Like I said, I am small and I fit into lockers well. I never took their actions to heart. I guess I felt like I deserved it and at least they noticed I was alive. There is an intimacy with being beaten up that forever connects you to those that bullied you.

I didn’t hate the High Rollers, but I did fear them. I feared that one day their games would cause me actual pain. But honestly their bullying was the only thing left that let me know I was still alive. My parents are good people, but we aren’t close. We don’t talk, we never have. I know why I never talked, I am gay and I was afraid if I ever got close to anyone that they might know. I wondered what secrets my mom and dad were hiding, because they were as quiet and shy as I was. The bullies at school called me a fag and a pansy when they beat me up, which happened about twice a week, but the name calling didn’t bother me because I knew that they didn’t really know. If they ever knew how right they were then it would hurt.

But like I said this is not my sad pathetic story. This is his story. His name, which I will only say once, as promised, is Francis Scott II, but anyone who valued their life called him by his last name, Scott. The first time I saw him was when he moved in next door. He and his father were carrying in the furniture. They are both big men. Well everything is big compared to me so let me elaborate. Scott was of normal size, maybe 6’0, and 175 pounds? I’m not quite sure, but he was built. Not bulky, but it was obvious he worked out. He had short dark brown hair and tanned skin. Looking at him and his father I guessed they were Italian. His father was huge, bulky and scary in my opinion. He didn’t look mean, but he did look like someone you did not want to mess with.

I peeked out of the front window all day watching the two of them move in bed frames, mattresses, dressers, a fridge and finally boxes. By nightfall they were done and my show was over. It was quite a show because Scott had taken off his wifebeater hours ago and had been moving stuff sweaty and topless. The next morning when I went out to get the mail I saw him working on his bike, he had a motorcycle. He saw me and nodded hello, I nodded back