In the shadows, under the bleachers

Chapter 5

"Hey, mom." My voice dragged out. I glanced over at Mark and he gave me a somewhat pleading look. "How are you? How long are you guys in town for?" She brushed off my questions and pulled me into a hug. I didn't like it. I just don't like hugs in general and she knows this. Everyone does, yet she refuses to listen. I pushed her away which got me a look from both my mom and dad.

"This is how you greet us?" My dad asked, I fought back the urge to roll my eyes.

"You mean her," I pointed to Mom "because you haven't greeted me." I looked past my dad to Mark, who was shaking his head.

"Have you been taking your medication?" My mom asked. Of course, that's the first thing she asks.

"Yes, yes I have." I lied, my lips pulling into the best fake smile I could muster. If they knew I weren't taking them they would start giving Mark crap about him needing to do more. I want to call Will

"Good, the last thing we need is you going off the rails." My mom commented. My eye twitched and my smile grew wider. What the hell would you know? You never even check in.

"How long did you say you guys were in town for?" My eyes twitched again as I spoke in a calm steady tone.

"Two weeks for your birthday." Mom exclaimed. My birthday? Oh yeah, I totally forget. "Don't tell me you forget about your special day?" Yeah I did, frankly. I mean after all it's just a day so there is really no need to get that excited.

"No of course not." I waved her off, my dad was busy on the phone.

"We need to go." He suddenly said.

"Shouldn't we stay a bit longer?" My mom counter. He shook his head,

"Now."

My mom nodded, following behind him.

"So," Mark started as soon as the door closed. He looked somewhat apologetic.

"So." I repeated.

"They're back."

"Yeah, they are." I replied.

"Are you excited?" We both winced at the attempt.

"You want me to be honest?" Meaning: I'm very much not excited for what my parents have planned.

"Yeah, I thought so." He replied walking past me into his room.

Will: So everything went well I assume?

Me: Define 'well'

Will: That bad?

Me: Not bad, but no good either, they're back in town for my birthday. And they want me to be all excited about it.

Will: Leave it up to my reckless artist to be all mopey and pessimistic on his birthday. BTW what do you want?

When I first told Will that I didn't like my birthday and that he didn't need to get me a present he didn't like that. So he vowed that every year he would get me a gift whether I liked it or not.

Me: Nothing, I'm fine

Will: No no no, bad reckless artist. What do you want?

What am I? A dog?

Me: Whatever you want I don't care

Will: good job 'insert thumbs up emoji'

Me: I'm not a dog Will

Will: Didn't say you were

"Who are you texting?" Mark suddenly asked, I jumped, dropping my phone on my face. Ow

"No one, why?" I hid my phone.

"Because you're smiling like an idiot at your phone." He pointed out.

"Am not." I shot back.

"You are. Are you texting a boy?"

"Why are you so interested?"

"I just want to know if my baby bro has a boyfriend yet."

"Baby bro?"

"Yeah you're my baby bro."

"Don't call me that."

He raised his hands up in surrender, "Okay okay, but are you texting a boy?"

"No."

"So then who?"

"No one." There is no way I'm going to tell him I have his best friends number. He's going to assume things. Yes he doesn't know I have Will's number

The weekend went by in a blink and I hated it, absolutely hated it. Mondays were just the worst weekdays in general, in my opinion, so draining. Luckily I had my art class next and of course I'm going to stay awake and engage. The art room was decorated in all kinds of paintings and just colors in general. It was my sanctuary.

I was currently trying to think of something to sketch got our 'sketchbook grade' when I suddenly remembered I still had the picture I took of Will. Luckily I was in the back of the class so no one could come up behind me. I put in my headphones and got lost in the sketch, making sure that the sketch was identical to the photo, shading and all. I took a picture of the sketch before walking up to my teacher to get my grade.

"Wonderful, wonderful." My teacher, Mrs. Reynolds muttered nodding her head. She is a middle age woman with a nice warm smile, a symmetrical face, long brown hair that's currently in a messy bun, and finally, beautiful deep blue eyes like the ocean. "Wonderful work as always Mr. Clark." She smiled, handing me back my sketch. I nodded walking back to my desk. She always thought my work was good just like Will.

But that was probably just because no one took the class seriously and just half-assed all of their assignments. When I got back to my desk I sent the photo to Will, before remembering that he had practice. Or so I thought because not even a minute later I got a reply.

Will: So you take pictures of me and sketch them?

Me: Yeah, I know shocking, aren't you supposed to be practicing?

Will: ...Maybe

Me: Go practice Will

Will: So bossy, but what else can I expect from my reckless artist?

My reckless artist? My?

I brushed it off before I read too much into it and started reading. The distraction only worked for about ten minutes before I started thinking about what he meant. No, stop I'm reading to much into it. Besides there's no way right?

I decided that they definitely were in fact no way.

Half an hour later I was on my way to Mark and Will's football practice. Since I wasn't able to drive, even though I had my learner's permit, they just didn't trust me. I had to sit on the bleachers for two whole hours watching the football team run up and down a field with a ball.

Will: Meet me under the bleachers after practice.

I don't know why, but it didn't sound like a question or an offer. More like a demand.

Me: At the spot?

Will: Yes

So I did.