" That's not fair and you know it," He gritted, " You're not the only one who blames themselves for his death."
" He's dead because of me, Exodus!" I yelled before I could even stop myself, " It should've been me laying in the fucking casket, not...
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Now playing... Amari, by J.Cole ... HARLEM, NEW YORK
" WELL, WELL, WELL. LOOK WHO finallydecided to show up to practice. 'Teo, you seein dis shit?" Jonathan clowns, looking over his shoulder at Mateo.
He laughs, putting the ball underneath his arm. " Shit it must be Christmas or sum cus ain't no way this nigga actually showed up on time!"
I haven't been showing up to practice in a while because I've been spending more time boxing; tryna wrap my head around my own emotions and how I feel about everything. I thought I had everything figured out, but I don't, and it pisses me the fuck off.
I sat down my duffel bag, rolling my eyes at the both of em. " Aigh, hop off my dick. It's not that deep, "
Mateo snorts, gesturing behind me. " Mm, that's not what coach been sayin."
" No forreal, old man been talkin hella shit," Jonathan agreed, nodding his head soon after.
" I'll deal with it," I mumble, taking a seat on the benches and lacing up my shoes. I've been running low on sleep, and that's only because of one person: Selah.
Lately, the thought of reaching out to her has been consuming my mind, creating a tumultuous conflict within me. The desire to reconnect clashes with an undeniable uncertainty, leaving me torn between the urge to bridge the gap and the fear of reopening old wounds.
The memories of our shared past, both beautiful and painful, resurface with each contemplation, making the decision to contact her a profound inner struggle.
Questions linger, echoing in my thoughts: Am I truly ready to delve into conversations that may unravel emotions buried deep within? The complexity of emotions and the weight of unresolved issues create a hesitancy that keeps me suspended in a delicate state of indecision.
" .. And he said that-"
"KANE!" The sharp call cuts through the air, jolting me from my thoughts. I raise my eyes, meeting Coach Jones's gaze, and a wave of tension washes over me as I observe the lines of frustration etched onto his face, his eyes narrowing with a hint of disappointment.
The air around us thickens, and I can sense that something has caught his attention, something that demands an immediate conversation. The weight of his stern expression conveys more than mere annoyance; it signals a deeper concern that beckons me to step into a dialogue about my recent behavioral shifts.
" Ah shit," Jonathan mumbled , looking between me and coach.
Mateo whistles lowly, scratching the back of his head, " yeah... I'm bout to just-"
"Yeah cus we thinkin the same thing," Jonathan nodded, both of scurrying off to avoid coach and his anger.
I sigh,taking off my hoodie and throwing it to the side, watching as my other teammates passed each other the ball. Coach takes a seat beside me, slamming his clipboard down on the ground with his gaze burning holes into the side of my head.
