Different colored minds

The divide

STEVEN POV
There's a huddle of football jocks surrounding me.
"Steven, tonight's the first game!" One of them inserts an elbow into my rib cage.
"Got your eyes on any of the cheer leaders for tonight?" My eyes train on them.
"Not yet, I'm kind of just waiting to see where the night leads me," I shrug.
"What a romantic," he rolls his eyes. "Hey Adrian. You coming tonight?"
"I don't know man,"
"You owe me a beer pong match dude," his eyebrows are raised.
"Alright you got me. I do owe you that, but I'll have to leave early. I'm taking AP Calc this year and it's pushing down my grade average so I've had to study every night."

The statement makes me grin. Adrian is a smart and meticulous worker. He's the perfect candidate for helping me be captain.

"Well aren't you smart," his elbow is digging into adrian's ribs now. I bet Adrian would be a perfect substitute. And it makes my heart hurt. A substitute for Joe.
My eyes shift towards a bench a little ways away with joe. He hasn't even attempted to talk to me since the other day.
the fact that Joe won't take the time to work our issues out makes me feel forgotten, easily replaceable. I was the standin until something else came along. He wort open his soul to me the way he used to. He's not the same--

And now with the first game tonight, everyone has been begging me to persuade him to give me some tips on being captain. They all talk about him like he's dead and he won't be useful for anything else. It's like because he's missing a leg he's not who he was anymore. Although I feel bad for him, of course, everyone is going through a hard time right now, and at some point he has to start living again. He's being selfish, but if I actually said that to him, then I'm the one in the wrong. I've been trying to think if there's anything I want to apologize for, maybe find a way not to be as angry with him, but no matter how hard I try, I always come up with the same answer. I'm putting in too much, and he isn't investing. And I don't have the time to waste on someone who doesn't care about me or anyone else. It sucks because the more I see it in him, the more I see it around me. People just don't take the time to actually ask things about each other anymore. We're still reading the great gatsby in English and the more I read it the more I realize it's always been this way. We've always been alone at the end of the day. It's just me and God up there in my head. And I don't even know if he's real.

"Hey Steven, what are you thinking about?" One of the other team members is staring at me as I look over at Joe.

"Nothing. Let's go find a spot to sit down, we can talk game strats for the rest of lunch period," and as we're all leaving I can see the greasy haired kid from my gym class walk up to Joe. I want to watch longer, but before I feel the tug of a hand on my arm as the team leads me away.

There is no point holding on. I know that. He's already gone.

Lunch feels too long. The scrawny kid isn't leaving Joe. And it's stupid. He looks as emotionless as always. I shouldn't even care. I should be as cold as he is. I should be able to leave and not look back. I have to. There's nothing left for me. So why does it have to hurt like this? I have to give this an end. Maybe it's the closure that I wish I had. He abandoned me first. I know because he didn't come after me when I left. He didn't fight for me. He lets my dreams go. He lets me go. And I have to pick up the pieces. He wasn't here mentally so much longer than I haven't been there physically now. The only difference Is that our bodies are further away. The static station of complacency.

Why I left.

And maybe that's why this is hard. I'm the one that has to have the maturity to say we have different goals. I can't give up my life and he can't give up his. He just wants to ignore it until it gets better. Ignore me until all the things he doesn't want go away. And I'm left behind. The me he used to encourage he is tearing apart.

Why do I let it define me? Why do I let all of this bullshit fill me? Why can't I just make it out alive alone.

"Steven, did you hear a word I just said," it's the irritated voice of Adrian. I blink.
The short answer is no.
Which makes me
Feel something else.
Am I doing football for me or because I wanted to keep joe alive? Keep the memory of Joe alive? The way I knew him.

"So no," Adrian rolls his eyes.
There's a snicker that rolls around the table.
"Why did cap give it to you if you don't even want this?" Timothy snaps.
I blink.
"I don't know," I mutter.
Eyes turn on me.
"Let's go over the strat for this Friday again," I interrupt the conversation.
"What do you think we've been doing?!" Adrian stands up. "God Steven," he adds.
And they wonder why I don't give a shit.
"Sorry I asked," I snap back. There's a pause.
"Why did cap give it to you?" Adrian spits.
"Because when push comes to shove I don't give up on football!" I say. He said no such thing. He threw it at me with no context. And I said yes like a stupid idiot.
"Yeah, you love football, but you don't care about your team!" Timothy stands up.
I stand up too and look around. Heads turn around the cafeteria.
"Wow, chill," I say.
"Chill? Chill? The first game is against our rivals. We have to crush them! How can anyone crush someone if they're chilling?" It's another kid from the team.
"Okay, so I said the wrong thing. I'm sorry can we just look through the tapes of our previous matches and see if there's any patterns we pick up on," my heart is
Thudding loudly against my rib cage.
"Fine, but just because cap gave the position to you doesn't mean you don't have to earn it, we trust the old cap, but I speak for all of us when I say we don't trust you yet," Adrian continues. The words are cold.
"Then give me the time to prove myself! I didn't expect this position as much as the rest of you didn't!" I say it louder than I mean to. The words are angrier and somehow sadder out loud.
"When did you get picked?" Timothy spits.
"Day one of senior year," I spit at the ground. Just my luck. I don't want pity. But I don't want to look like I can't handle myself—even if it might be true.
There's a long silence.
"Good luck kid," Adrian says.

The words aren't pitying. No one could have expected what happened to Joe. No one. Especially me.