Secrets (BxB) ✅

20: momentary hope

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR'S EVE 🎉
if you're lucky they will kiss soon...as a 'welcome to 2021' present... 😙😌
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Zedd

The week passed rather fast, surprisingly enough. I spent my classes at the back, undisturbed, my teachers leaving me be once they realised that I was doing my schoolwork and not slacking off. I skipped soccer training every afternoon to complete my detention, which was basically just sitting in a supervised room and doing my homework. It meant I actually got a lot of work done. I avoided my friends, or at least, the people who used to be my friends, and barely saw them the entire week. I was surprised actually that it was possible to see so little of them, until I realised they had most likely given up on trying to find me and see how I was going. I spent most of my time alone, talking to no one. My lip was healing, faster than expected since I had no reason to smile and only spoke the bare minimum. A scar had formed, which I would likely retain, a thin white line that disappeared over my bottom lip and dipped just a couple of millimetres below it into the skin. The flesh around it was still pink and inflamed, but it had pretty much healed over.

And now it was another Monday, and this time I no longer had detention as an excuse to skip soccer training. In fact, there was no way I was getting out of it. I had walked past the coach in the corridor, and after a concerned look over me, he made me promise to come to training that afternoon. I was scared to face the others. Scared to face Mitch. But I knew that if I didn't go there myself then my coach would drag my ass onto the field himself.

I knew I couldn't bear to face the others in the changing rooms so I waited until they were all walking out onto the field before dashing around the corner and into the room. I found a nice secluded corner and quickly changed into my training clothes. As I laced up my soccer boots I felt like it was just like the old times. Then I glanced up and remembered I was all alone. Not really a member of the team anymore, at least in terms of team spirit. Knowing that all I was doing was trying to put off the upcoming reunion, I zipped up my bag and walked out onto the field.

I felt naked and exposed as the boys turned to look at me, some more discreetly than others. It had been a week since my head had been bare of one of my hoodies, and I knew my lip injury was still fresh. And I had also been absent from training for a week. One week of playing and strategising and being a team. And let's not forget that the reason that I was not there for a week was because I threw punches at Mason. Who was part of the soccer team. A very talented part. Who was I kidding? I was pretty sure none of the guys knew what to do with me. They probably didn't even want me on their field, much less their team.

"Okay boys," the coach blew in his whistle and interrupted my pity party, "Five laps around the field for warm up please."

The group of boys headed off and I followed, albeit reluctantly. Hopefully I hadn't lost too much fitness in the past week. It's much easier to lose muscles than gain them. Training continued as usual. We did exercises and routines until the coach's voice began to grow hoarse. The only difference was that none of the others talked to me, unless they absolutely had to. It was like they had finally listened to my demands of being left alone. And it was depressing.

"Okay," the coach told us as we grouped around him, a sweaty bunch of teenage boys, "We'll play a quick game and then you can go home."

We nodded and began to split into two groups as he called out names. We'd be playing with less members on field and no reserves as our team was split in half, but it would be a quick game anyway. I flinched when I heard Mitch's name called as part of my team, but I hoped I wasn't too noticeable. Mason was on the opposite team, and when he saw me glancing at him, he winked. I looked away quickly. Mason had the knack of freaking me out.