Complications

24|okay

Walker Prince

I've never minded the looks. Usually they're from girls, but occasionally guys—they were always 'I want you' looks, or 'I'm jealous of you' looks. It's never bothered me, I've almost become blind to them, but these looks I'm getting today are something different.

I'd had a two week suspension, rumors are sure to be circling. I'm trying to steer clear of the gossip train. I don't want to know nothing! And yet then I decided to skip a couple more days, I'd heard whispers at practice. The way my suspension happened has been exaggerated and altogether falsified.

I want to set the record straight. I should set the record straight.

But instead, I find myself ducking my head, dodging people, avoiding looks, and attempting to blend in.

It is not an easy thing, especially today. James had tried to corner me at practice the last couple of days but I successfully avoided any cornering. He's getting worse though. I'm not ready to deal with his questions and curiosity, and I know from how Alex acted over the last couple weeks that James is going to be almost impossible to handle. Alex keeps to himself. Even living under the same roof and facing my drama face first he tried to avoid it. So when he started asking what's up with me I got worried.

So many people asking questions: him, my parents, Tyla, James. All the looks, the raised eyebrows the hushed whispers. None of it is helping. I finally snapped. I finally let my emotions out in a way I hadn't thought of: crying. I can't even remember the last time I cried, and now, now I'm embarrassed because not only did I bawl my eyes out, but I did so in front of Tyla.

She played it off so well but after we parted ways last night it was almost all I've thought about, aside from that kiss. How did that happen? How did yesterday end the way it did?

"Walker?!"

My head shoots up, I've been walking down the hallway pretty aimlessly—lost in thought I guess—head ducked, hands in pockets, hood up. How did he recognize me?

Frick.

James pushes through a couple people to get to me and shoves my shoulder, "dude what is up with you?"

Oh you know, stuff I can't talk about with anyone, problems I can't solve, and expectations I can't meet.

"Don't want to talk about it." Is all I say.

I could tell him about the last couple months, the asthma attacks, my inhuman strength. He wouldn't believe me, and why would he? It sounds insane. The only reason Tyla believes is cause she's seen it first hand. I'd show him if I could control it, summon it up on demand, turn it off on demand, but I can't. That's the problem.

He wouldn't get it if I tried to explain that I'm afraid of myself. I'm afraid of what's happening to me, what it means? What does it mean for football? What's the connections with my asthma? Is it going to get worse? Will I ever be able to control it? And the worst of all: will I hurt someone?

James wouldn't get it, nobody would, and I can't show them, because again, I can't control it! Tyla had so much faith that control is possible, all because I didn't hulk out—her words not mine—when we kissed.

But that's a load of crap! I didn't get stronger or have an asthma attack or whatever, because I was distracted, but I can't always be distracted. It's more complicated than that.

But I can't tell her that. I can't explain this to her, to anyone. Because it doesn't make sense to me. And the more I try the worse it gets.

I know avoiding it won't help, that's all I've been doing and it's only getting worse. These last two weeks were distractions and lies. I'm in the worst place with my parents. We're barely talking. I'm surprised dads even talking to me at practice, that he's letting me go to practice at all. We were so bad Alex picked his chaotic home over ours. I shouldn't avoid it anymore and I know Tyla helping me out would probably be good, but I want to push it down and forget about it. I want to ignore it. I want normal back!