Complications

6|doodling

Walker Prince

I watch her walk away and find myself glancing to James. He seems to know Tyla Bradley better than I do. So maybe he'll know why she's walking away with Ty Phillips.

He's not looking at me though. He's catching up with a couple guys on the baseball team, and I decide to let him. My eyes trail back to Tyla and watch her climb in his car. I'd wanted to talk to her, find out how much she saw but that Zoe girl was next to her since I'd caught sight of her and than she'd been with Ty and his weird geek friend and Andrea, the only girl I know by name off student council. I guess Tyla's another one now.

Hmmm... how am I going to explain myself to her? Right now I can't even explain to myself how I punched a hole in that locker, much less anyone else.

Ugh! This is bad!

I glance down at my fists and flex them. My right hand is bruised at the knuckles from punching Silver but it's not any worse than it was after punching through that locker.

I covered it up with some flyer from another random spot on the wall but if it gets discovered and is somehow traced back to me; my dad will kill me.

I'll probably get expelled.

I can feel my breathing laboring as a wheeze starts up. I cough a couple times, smack James on the back and nod him goodbye before taking off. I rush around the side of the school and pull out my inhaler. After a couple deep inhales I slip it back in my pocket and fall back against the wall.

After so long between my last attack to this, attacks everyday basically I'm getting anxious. The chances of me having an attack at practice seems to be getting higher. Something I can't deal with.

Maybe it's the stressing I'm doing about the idea of having an attack. I'm so paranoid about them happening that that's what seems to be triggering them.

I thought about this but than discard it, I can't just stop stressing about things, that's impossible. I just gotta manage this, distract myself.

My feet start moving before I fully decide but than my hands move to grab my phone and I text Alex to tell him to meet me at the fields early.

Practice isn't for a couple more hours, school gets out at 1ish on Mondays and practice doesn't start tell three. I usually go catch a nap or spend more time in the weight room. Though the idea of a distraction means enlisting Alex, our QB, to come throw me passes.

Before I switched positions back in middle school Alex and I hadn't gotten along. We're crazy alike, it's almost frightening. Our love and dedication for football is similar and he struggles with his dad like I do. His dad helps out on the coaching staff as well, my dad gave him the job. James may understand my difficulties—or he sure acts like he does—with my dad but Alex relates.

Now that I've switched to receiver we can both be starters and play with each other, rather than competing against one another.

I never was QB material. I like attention but not being the center of it, and I don't like the pressure. I remember the first moment I tried receiver. I was in my element. I ran my route and glanced back right as the ball peaked in the air before spiraling down towards me. I'm going to remember that catch forever, and I've never gone back.

Alex keeps to himself a lot. Odd for the star QB but he's a nerd outside of the game. A lot of the other guys don't get him. He reads a ton. Always has a book with him and than he fights on the side. His dads coaching job doesn't bring in enough to support Alex's five sibling family. He does what he has to, no questions asked, and I've been covering for him all through school. The bruises and black eyes, not even his dad knows anything really. He might have suspensions but he never asks questions, money keeps peoples mouths shut, especially people like Alex's dad.