Playing For Keeps

11| Chapter 8-Tayo

The message dings in my inbox. And all I want is to turn back time. Unfortunately, that invention is still a long way into the future. And since my future self hasn't turned back time to fix any of the issues I wrote in my old textbook, it hasn't happened in my timeline. But that's not the focus point. Lola's inviting me for dinner and I don't want to go.

Do I owe her?

Definitely. But...I had hoped it wouldn't happen.

At least anytime soon.

Our agreement was school for her and my Nana for me. Going to her home and pretending in front of her parents...just the thought of it makes me queasy to my stomach and I run to the toilet stalls.

Luckily, practice hasn't started yet and I have time to work myself into a sweat in the bathroom stall.

The bathroom's dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the lone light bulb dangling to the side. Water droplets hitting the sink one after another couples with the smell of soap and cleaning products in the air.

I slide down the wall closest to the door, holding my head in my hands and shoving my feet into my chest.

Dinner...hockey...Nana...disappointment. Every scenario runs through my mind, each one worse than the other, adding to the growing fear lodged in my throat. My fingers shake, breathing shallow and rapid the longer I stay there lost in my mind.

I scratch against my throat, feeling something wrapped around it but there wasn't. I knew that at the back of my mind, I'd worn a round neck and left my jacket with Ian.

There was nothing there but the knowledge didn't stop me from scratching.

The door opens as I lean against the wall, a blurry figure standing there before falling on their feet hands stretched towars me.

I flinch.

''Hey buddy...it's me. Ian. What's wrong?''

The words are nothing but a jumbled mess in my head, and I croon, tears falling from my eyes the longer I stay there, jeans lightly soaked from the water on the floor.

This isn't me. Crying and unable to breathe on the floor.

But I can't stop.

I groan, the lack of air causing black dots to appear on the edges of my vision.

''I'm going to touch you. Just your hands, okay.''

A touch, and my hand's lifted from where it was fisting my clothes. Whoever's touching it, runs their fingers across my palm, the soothing touch bringing me a bit out of the fog.

''That's it, Tayo. Now, I'm going to place your palm against my chest. I want you to do as I'm doing. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Can you do that for me?''

I might have nodded, I can't remember.

But after some time passes, I take a deep breath in and let it out without the fog clogging my sight.

Ian...he's here.

''Feeling better?'' he asks.

I nod, my throat's a bit scratchy, eyes probably red and there's no doubt in my mind there's snot on my shirt. Still I'm much better than I was before.

''Thanks man.'' My voice trembles, but the appreciation shines through.

Ian nods, reaching for the paper towels and shoving them at me. Laughter bubbles in my chest, the small act returning us back to the way we were. He'd not ask too many questions and he'd definitely keep what happened to himself.