"Boyfrenemies" Vol. 2

eight

CRAIG'S POV

i cannot pinpoint what exactly my emotions are at this very moment in time, but all i could feel was this dark cloud hovering over my head and waiting for it to just pour down all over me. maybe even some lightning to electrocute me.

i wanted to disappear from the field.

i have never, ever missed a field goal at a game in my life. and of course, when i do it's at a very important game and failed to give us a chance at possibly taking the lead.

i felt jittery even walking on the field so i knew it wasn't going to be a great kick — but i did not think i would actually miss it.

before i knew it, my legs gave out and i completely fell onto the ground.

"CRAIG," i hear stan's voice running up to me, "are you alright?"

i tried to open my mouth and answer but nothing came out, i was in complete shock.

next thing i knew everyone on the team were crowding around me, asking if i were alright and i felt awful.

we lost the game because of me and yet they were still concerned about my well-being.

after a few seconds, i felt like i could finally speak, "yeah....i'm...i'm good."

token's hand reached out for me to help me on my feet and i happily took it.

"thanks, man." i tell him leaning on him because my legs were still trying to stabilize. i felt like bambi.

"no problem. we all have our off days," token comforts patting my shoulder.

we both then walk back to coach cummings who looks.....pissed.

"locker rooms — NOW!" he says.

i just sigh, i already knew what was coming. just needed to brace myself for it.

"i wonder what words of encouragement he'll give us," kyle whispers sarcastically.

as we walked towards the locker rooms, i couldn't even bring myself to look at the stands of the parents, who are alumni of our high school and have never witnessed a loss to north park, and also people i cared about who are also in the stands...like tweek.

i just walked, staring down at my worn out cleets that were covered in mud and fake grass until we finally reached the locker rooms.

we all just sat down on the benches in silence, waiting on coach cummings to say whatever the fuck he has to say.

"well," he finally breaks the silence, "you all did great."

everyone's heads pop up in mere confusion.

what.

"you all did great. we have to take into account that north park has a brand new coach with an entirety of a new line up. i didn't prepare enough for it using plays we have done previously against their old coach which is partially my fault. we now know what we're up against next year."

it was so silent that all you could hear was the water dripping from the showers.

what.

it was too good to be true, coach cummings not screaming at us, calling us losers, and that we need to be better? what is this?

"you all did great," he scans the crowd until his condensing eyes landed on me, "....except one of you made a little oopsy."

my face immediately gets hot as everyone turns to look at me.

here we go.

coach cummings clears his throat, "anything to say, twinkle toes?"

"i..i—"

"there he goes sounding like his little boyfriend," he scoffs in disgust, "you cost us the game you know? HUMILIATED us. i'm trying to cut you some slack but it was one field goal. you could have made it but you didn't."

my fists were clutched so hard it legitimately started to hurt, i was so pissed.

"you were just saying how it was your fault and now all of a sudden it's mine?" i ask angrily.

token tries to hit my leg, telling me to stop but i'm not going to — he pissed me off.

"for the plays but not for a lousy field goal, c'mon twinkle toes," he laughs. no one is laughing with him.

"don't call me that," i grit my teeth.

"i can call you whatever the hell i want, twinkle toes. i can't believe you have the nerve to talk back to me after costing us this game! you're definitely going to have extra bleacher miles to run monday so i hope you're prepared for that because i'm going to work you like a horse."

god i wanted to sack the shit out of this old man.

coach cummings walks towards the door and turns back one more time, "let's use this game as a learning experience, shall we?"

no one answers for a bit, "shall we?" he repeats.

"yes sir," everyone says except for me.

coach cummings notices i don't answer and narrows his eyes at me, smiles menacingly, and leaves.

i finally breathed out once that man is nowhere in sight and put my back towards the locker as i slid down onto the ground.

"you good?" kenny asks and i nod.

"how long are you gonna stay in here?" he questions as he gets changed into his orange parka.

"just like a couple of minutes, need to collect my thoughts," i answer.

he nods pulling the strings on the parka, and then leaves like everyone else does.

i truly should get going, i have people waiting on me.

after what felt like forever i finally got up, changed, got my shit, and left out the locker rooms. i was the last one to leave.

as i exit and walk towards the field, parents were greeting their sons telling them they did great and it made me sad, because i knew i was not going to get that sort of response.

i was mentally preparing for all sorts of homophobic and degrading comments that were going to be sent my way by my father, just for losing a game.

i shouldn't even have to put myself through that, and yet i continue to do it. it's just every day life for me at this point.

but before i could see those horrible human beings, i spot the boy who makes my darkest and most miserable days suddenly turn into days of joy and peace.

i smile spotting the blonde haired boy, ready to embrace him. my smile slowly fades as i see him talking animatedly to some guy i don't recognize.

who is that?

i walk over there and tweek seems to spot me before i can make it, he smiles sympathetically and waves at me. at that point i start walking faster until—

"CRAIG," my dad's voice rang in my ears and i sigh.

i don't even move but i could feel both my parent's presence behind me. they knew i was going to tweek and stopped me from going.

i look at tweek and he already understands, he nods his head and gestures a phone call, insinuating for us calling later and i nod.

he walks away with that guy by his side. once again, who is he?

my mom clears her throat and i slowly turn around to see the faces of disappointment staring down at me.

"it's late," my mom smiles tightly, "let's go home."