Frequencies of Us Chapter 65: Cracks and a Cry

Mateo POV

Walking in my room, heart pounding loud, fists clenched tight. My head’s a mess, spinning with what I saw last night—Noah kissing Jamie, lips on lips, right outside his house. My chest burns, hot and heavy, and I feel sick, mad, hurt all at once. He’s supposed to be mine, only mine, and now I don’t know. I hear the front door creak, Noah’s sneakers squeaking in, and my stomach twists, ready to explode.

I storm out, fast, and find him in the hall, looking small, scared. “What the fuck, Noah?” I yell, voice shaking, loud enough to bounce off the walls. He flinches, steps back, and says, “Mateo, it’s not—” but I cut him off, stepping closer. “I saw you! Jamie kissing you!” My hands shake, mad as hell, and he opens his mouth, eyes wide. “He kissed me, I didn’t—” he starts, but I yell again, “Bullshit!”

My chest hurts, jealousy ripping me up, and I grab his shirt, pulling him close. His breath hits my face, fast, warm, and I can’t hold it in—I kiss him, hard, desperate, shoving my tongue in deep. He moans, soft, hands grabbing my arms, and my dick gets hard, pressing my shorts. “You’re mine,” I growl, kissing him again, rough and needy, tears stinging my eyes. He kisses back, hungry, and I drag him to my room, slamming the door.

I push him on the bed, fast, climbing on top, ripping his shirt off. My hands run over his chest, feeling his heartbeat racing, and I yank his jeans down, quick. His dick pops out, thick and hard, and I stroke it, tight, loving how he gasps, loud. I shove my shorts off, naked now, and pin him down, spitting in my hand, slicking up. I slide in, hard, deep, and he groans, legs wrapping around me, nails clawing my back.

I fuck him, possessive, thrusting fast, slamming into him. “Mine,” I say again, voice hoarse, tears mixing with sweat on my face. He’s tight, gripping me, and I groan, low, feeling him shake under me. I grab his dick, pump it quick, and he moans, loud, head tipping back. My hips snap, hard and wild, and I fuck him deeper, heat building fast in my gut. Tears drip, hot, and he grabs my face, kissing me messy, wet, desperate.

I’m panting, sweating, and he tenses, dick jerking in my hand. He cums, hot and thick, spilling over my fingers, and I feel it—I cum too, deep inside him, groaning loud, body shaking. Tears roll down my cheeks, mixing with sweat, and I collapse on him, chest heaving, holding him tight. He kisses my neck, soft, shaky, and whispers, “I’m yours,” but my heart’s still breaking, mad, scared, torn up.

I pull out, roll off, and sit up, wiping my face, chest tight. He reaches for me, hand soft, but I stand, fast, pulling my shorts on. “I can’t trust you,” I say, voice low, cracking, and his face falls, eyes wet. “Mateo, please,” he says, quiet, but I shake my head, jealousy burning me alive. “We’re done,” I mutter, loud, and grab my shirt, turning away. He says, “No, wait,” voice breaking, but I walk out, slamming the door, heart hurting bad.

I’m in the kitchen, fists clenched, breathing hard, when Mom comes in, fast. She’s holding my bag, face mad, and says, “What’s this?” She pulls out a note—“I saw you”—and my stomach drops, cold hitting quick. “You on drugs, Mateo?” she yells, voice sharp, and my hands sweat, panic clawing up. “No,” I say, quick, shaking my head, but she steps closer, eyes narrow. “Then what? You’re grounded!” she snaps, and I feel trapped, chest heavy.

“Mom, it’s not—” I start, but she cuts me off, yelling, “No more sneaking out! You’re staying here!” My heart sinks, isolated, stuck, and I kick the chair, loud, mad at her, mad at Noah, mad at me. She glares, walks out, and I’m alone, head spinning, feeling him gone, feeling everything crash. My hands shake, fear mixing with hurt, and I sit, staring at nothing, chest aching deep.

Then my phone buzzes, loud on the table, snapping me out of it. I grab it, hands trembling, and see a text from an unknown number. My breath catches, fast, and I open it. My heart stops, ice hitting hard. It says, “Check your window. Now.” My hands shake, phone slipping, and I stumble to my room, pulling the curtain back. My chest locks up, panic slamming in, and I see it—Jamie, outside, waving up, smirking wide.

I freeze, heart pounding wild, and hear Noah’s voice in my head, begging me to stay. Jamie taps the glass, loud, and says, “Mateo, let me in!” My legs shake, stuck, and I feel the note in Mom’s hand, the breakup burning me, and now this—Jamie, here, ready to push me over the edge. My fists clench, mad, scared, and I don’t know what he wants, but it’s bad, real bad, and it’s coming fast.