Truthbreaker (2) -Charlie Conway

Under Pressure

Charlie Conway's POV

We were putting our gear on, getting hyped up for our game against Iceland soon. I would be lying to say that I wasn't absolutely terrified, for my team and me, but also for Lyla.

I still haven't told her about what I over heard regarding the Iceland player and coach, and every second that goes by with my mouth shut was excruciatingly painful.

My eyes kept stealing glances at the girl, and she looked positively devastated. It must've been from the news about her dad, but she seemed just fine in the dorms last night. Her mouth held a permanent frown as her eyes were red and bloodshot. I saw Adam trying to talk to her, but she just brushed him off, sitting on the bench staring at the ground intensely.

Part of me wanted to tell her what I heard last night. Part of me wanted to just walk over there, comfort her, and help her.

That Part of me wondered deeply why I didn't do it.

Deep down, Maybe, I was scared. Scared of myself. Scared of my feelings towards the girl. She's already made me feel absolutely disoriented and confused. Years ago, I never would of thought I would feel anything other than pure hatred and resentment against Lyla Mitchell, and I feel like a failed myself.

My mind was storming with thoughts on thoughts on thoughts about everything in my life, that I didn't even realize that Averman was calling my name.

"Earth to Charlie!" He said loudly, waving his hand in my face. I squinted annoyingly and swatted it away, giving him a glare. He seemed slightly on edge, and I could imagine it was about the game. He didn't do well under pressure.

"What Averman?" I say, slightly unhinged too. All the confusion about Lyla on top of this important game today was doing numbers on my head and i felt a headache churning. I stole another glance at the girl.

"Dude, maybe instead of dazing off, drooling over Lyla, get ready instead! We start in 10 minutes!" He said hastily, bouncing his leg up and down rapidly. I scoffed at his foolish words.

I mean, sure, deep down, I was a bit worried for the girl, and I literally heard the plot for her downfall last night, but I wasn't interested in her. I definitely wasn't drooling over her.

God, I hated her. I hated how she made me feel. How she made me feel bad for her. I wasn't involved in her problems, but I felt the same pain she was feeling. I felt weak, alone, tired.

The more I stared at her pain stricken face, the more I felt my body rise. I hadn't even realized I was standing up, before feeling my body be taken over by my feelings. I felt myself walk over to the other side of the locker room, to where lyla was sitting in sorrow. I stopped right in front of her, letting her slowly raise her head to meet my eyes.

It hit me hard, seeing her swollen eyes so red with sadness. I wanted so desperately to wipe the tears that threatens to come out of her sad face, but I knew I couldn't. She stared at me with confusion, before standing up, making us eye level with each other.

I grabbed her hand gently, leading her a side. She seemed a little confused, and I felt the sweat of her on my hands. I dropped her hand and faced her, feeling that same feeling in my stomach again. I took a big breath of air before meeting her eyes. They were full of confusion, but they're wasn't any resent or annoyance found on the girls face. I was so used to it, and it felt, relieving.

"Lyla, are you ok? I manage to say, making her stare back with confusion.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you care?" She said rather coldly, looking away from my gaze uncomfortably. I hope she didn't feel uncomfortable. I hope I didn't make her uncomfortable.