Chasing You

10

BRADEN

TRIGGER WARNING: Talk of drug abuse and overdosing.

I bounce the basketball against the aluminum floor of the gym ready to shoot a free throw. We don't need to be in the gym but the boys and I thought we should be. I release the ball from my hands and it lands in the net with a swish. Practice starts next month and our training sessions are getting even more intense. Julie is sitting on the sidelines watching us because she's heading home with us. Apparently for her kinesiology class she needs Trey for something, who knows with the two of them.

They were pretty close on Saturday night at the pregame. Then at the party. Pretty much the whole night if I'm being honest. I have to drive the two of them to the girls apartment and then back to our house.

It's like I'm their chauffeur.

"How long are you guys going to be shooting free throws," Julie groans from the floor. I glance back at her with a glare. "I was just asking because I'm taking a nap if we're staying here longer than thirty minutes. Touchy, Bobo."

"Fucks sake," I mutter under my breath grabbing the basketball from where it rolled. I turn around and shoot the ball into the hoop again. It is not as clean as my last shot but clean enough because it goes in. "Alright Princess Julie, we can leave."

I turn back around, Trey is already helping Julie off of the gym floor while Robbie, Asher, and Jeremy head towards them. I jog behind the group going for my bag and water bottle.

"Why does everyone keep calling you Bobo?" Jeremy asks grabbing his gym bag. I shoot him a glare because the whole group has been calling me Bobo all fucking week. 'Hey Bobo', 'Can you get me this, Bobo', I swear if I hear Bobo one more time I'm going to choke someone.

"Because Tori thinks he's a clown," Julie says sending a smile my way. I sigh and she is suppose to be the nice one of the group. Jeremy lets out a loud laugh as I offer up a fake laugh before punching him in the shoulder.

"Ow! Bobo is an aggressive clown," Jeremy mumbles rubbing his shoulder. I cup my hand around my ear and lean towards.

"Say it again Gregor and I'll lights out on your shit," I snap at him aggressively grabbing my gym bag. I'm not a clown. How many douchebag college students do exactly what I do? Probably thousands and none of them have fucking clown names.

"Oh relax, the girls are just pissed because you blocked Lacey," Asher says shrugging his shoulders. I give him a weird look as he sighs, "I got chewed out because of your ass, again. So, I am joining in on the clown bandwagon. You are in fact a clown."

"God, say clown again and I may lights out on someones shit," Robbie states rubbing his forehead. I slap a hand onto his shoulder because thank God one of my friends agrees this is stupid. I have also never heard of a clown named Bobo so HA.

"Thank you, Rob. I knew you would have my back," I say squeezing his shoulder. He gives me a 'no I'm not' look removing my hand from his shoulder. My jaw drops, offended.

"Oh, I am a hundred percent in agreement that your new nickname is and always will be Bobo," Robbie says. I groan feeling my phone vibrate in my gym bag. I grab it and freeze before declining the call. Now is not the time to be talking to my mom. I am having a good day I'd rather it wait a couple of hours to hear my brother relapsed because that's be real here, I saw it coming.

Last year, I was blissfully unaware of what was happening at home in New York. My mom kept it from me because she said I was doing so good with the team and everything, she didn't want me to worry. My younger brother, Tyler, was a sophomore in high school at the time, now a junior. He started with weed, then moved on to higher up shit. Coke, LSD, whatever he could get his hands on. Except the last time he used Coke it was laced and he was rushed to the hospital. That was during the summer, I wasn't home because I had training camp. I rushed back to New York and none of the boys know why. They know I will tell them when I am ready but who is ever ready to tell their friends, especially ones you see as family, that.