chapter 17

331 16 47
                                    

CW// angst

(Karl POV)

"...or the fact that you have a boyfriend."

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit, what the FUCK did I do?

I lift my hands to sign something, but all my thoughts are too jumbled and I can't choose just one thing to say. 

Alex gives me a look like well? 

I'm so so so sorry, I sign. I was going to tell you, I swear-

"For fuck's sake, cut the bullshit, Karl," he snaps. I flinch away, tears pricking my eyes. "News is out; I've heard your voice. You can stop with the ASL."

"I'm sorry," I whisper-shout -- we're still in a library after all. "Okay? I know it won't do shit, I know you probably hate me, but I'd say sorry until the day I die if I thought it would do anything. I'm so sorry."

He turns away, pulling off his beanie to grab a fistful of his hair. This might be the first time I've seen him without it on. I run my hands over my eyes, desperately willing myself to wake up, wishing this was a dream. But he's still here, and I'm still the liar. 

A minute later, he whips around. "I kissed you!" he exclaims, throwing his hat to the ground. "And you said nothing! I took you out on two dates -- two! And I didn't get a word about this boyfriend." He turns to the side, covering his eyes with his hand. "For fuck's sake."

"I know," I whisper, knowing if my voice gets any louder, it will crack. Badly. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that," he hisses, facing me again. "It's not going to fix anything! It's not going to make anything better!"

A tear runs down my cheek, but either he doesn't notice or he doesn't care. 

He runs both of his hands through his hair, pulling it away from his face. I've never actually noticed how long it is before; it's nearly at his shoulders. 

He laughs, but there's no humor in it. His smile is big, but there's not a trace of happiness. It's terrifying. "It's like fucking Wilbur all over again," he says, still laughing. "Holy shit, I did it again!"

I decide against questioning who Wilbur is. It's definitely not the time.

"I swear to god, Alex, every time you trust a guy, every time you fall for a guy, he fucks you over," he mutters to himself, pacing back and forth. "What is wrong with you? Why do you do this to yourself?"

He pauses, takes a deep breath, and turns to glare at me. He holds eye contact for a minute. Then he bends to scoop up his beanie. He grips it tightly in both hands, frowning hard at it. "Go home, Karl," he says, still glaring at the hat. "Tell your boyfriend. He deserves to know. Either way-" now he looks at me, eyes brimming with tears "- I'm switching rooms. I can't... I just can't. This," he says, motioning between us, "whatever this is... it's over."

He pulls his hat on back over his head as he turns away. It feels like a kick to the ribs.

"Goodbye, Karl," he whispers. 

And as he walks away, as he walks from everything we could have been, if given the chance, all the tears I was desperatley trying to hold back spill over my waterline, and run over my cheeks, falling to my shoes. I sink to the floor, gasping. 

It's all my fault, it's all my fault, it's all my fault, it's all my fault.

~~

Me: i need a favour.

(No POV)

Nick bounces back and forth, from foot to foot, shaking his arms. He has nothing to worry about; this team is actual trash. But still, pregame time is the worst.

Ranboo walks up, smiling. "Hey, you'll do great," they say, giving a thumbs up. "We'll win easily, and the college scouts will see how much of an awesome captain you are. No worries." He pats Nick's shoulder. 

Nick smiles gratefully. "Thanks," he says. "You too."

Meanwhile, Karl slinks into an unfamiliar building with a large group of people, hood pulled over his head. He's his old self, quiet and closed off. Not that it matters -- he doesn't know anyone here, and no one here knows him. They won't talk to him. 

He ducks into a corner where shadows engulf him in darkness. He gets a few polite smiles and a few rude looks, but otherwise goes unnoticed. 

Minutes tick by before finally, people start to spill out of the room. He waits another few minutes before following, and takes a seat near the back, hands stuffed into his pockets. 

Ranboo holds out a fist for Nick as they wait to enter the court. Nick smiles and bumps it with his. "We got this," Ranboo whispers as the team begins to move. 

Nick nods. "We got this."

He says it more to himself than anybody.

As he runs out on to the court, a sharp whistle rings in his ears, and his eyes are immediately drawn to a small group sitting away from everyone else -- which isn't far, considering the crowd is much larger than should be appropriate for a high school game. Dream's arms swing in high arhces, waving, as Skeppy whistles again. George gives Nick a thumbs up while Bad tries to imitate Skeppy's whistle. Tommy and Tubbo sit next to them, screaming Ranboo's name. Nick waves back as he follows his team.

At the same time, Karl smiles.

(Nick POV)

A whistle blows. Another foul. 

I groan and stop running. I twist on my heel and jog over to our bench. I take a swig of water before hurrying back over to the game. 

With 10 minutes left, there's no way we'll loose. After all, it's 13-4 right now. But still, there's a chance I suppose. I've seen it done. 

I crouch down, ready for the jump ball. The ref tosses it, a high arch towards the ceiling. At it's crest, I extend my legs, leaping into the air. The opposing player is already landing as I scoop it out of the air, pushing it towards Tony, who immediately runs down the court. I land, and take off after him. 

He shoots for a two-pointer, and it goes in. 15-4. 8 and a half minutes left. 

Ranboo's turn for the jump. The boy who goes up against him gives him one look and scoffs. A taller player pushes him away and goes instead. Not that it matters; Ranboo gets it. 

Unfortuantely, an opposing player snatches it up before we can -- stupid -- and charges toward our net. Knox tries to slap it out of his hands, and we get another foul. 

Oh my fucking god.

Coach Luke calls for a team meeting, but doesn't really tell us anything we don't already know. 

Whatever. 

As we're released again, Tony gives a short laugh and elbows me. "Hey Nicky, isn't that your boyfriend?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "Tony, I swear to god-"

He shakes his head and points towards the bleachers. 

And I stop dead in my tracks. 

Word Count 1176

~A/N~

quirky

get some rest <3

actions speak louder than words {karlnap}Where stories live. Discover now