Axel's Daisy

27 • Axel

  We had a fairly well-practiced session.

   Until Brady messed things up with his slow movements. He moved like a drunken elephant on the field, and we had to endure Coach Landon's piercing screams.

  "I had it right there!" Brady was a hot-headed guy who didn't handle criticism well. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his body trembled slightly as he shouted.

   "You move like a pregnant woman. You're failing your team!" Coach Landon was merciless, but his harshness came from a place of wanting us to be better because he believed in our potential.

  "He'll be better next time." I had to intervene or a fight would break out within our team. Coach Landon was right; Brady retreated with his helmet clutched between his hand and his hipbone.

  "Talk some sense into him, would you?" Coach Landon asked me, and I nodded.

  The practice was over for the day. The night was a special kind of darkness, one that seemed to want only to hold the stars and help them shine brighter. Plus, the weather was perfect. The cool wind played with the ends of my hair as I raced to catch up with the stubborn guy.

  "What's wrong?" I asked the moment we burst into the locker room.

   The rest of the team was in the showers, so we were alone. Brady slammed his locker open, grabbing his bag with a brutal force. He was on edge, and I didn't know why. Although I knew my best friend like the back of my hand, his mood swings today were on a whole different level.

  "I don't want to talk about it. Spare me the lecture," he grumbled, pulling out a change of clothes. "I'm going to hit the showers. Later." He stormed out as quickly as he had come in.

  I took a deep breath and let it out, deciding to give him the space he needed before we talked things out as we usually did. We never fought, but pissy Brady annoyed me to no end.

  •••

  The mirror reflected the paleness of my face, my styled quiff to the side, a linen black top, and dark denim jeans that made my amber eyes stand out boldly. I looked like a normal guy, but inside, I felt like shattered glass with a troubled family and a path to stardom that was meant to continue my dad's legacy.

  I didn't even know what I liked or where my talents lay because my whole life had been centered around football. I felt as if I were on a deviant stairway to nowhere.

  Amid my life crisis, Brady decided to make an appearance. He came up behind me with a sly smirk, "You cleaned up well, bro. Sorry for snapping at you earlier. I just had a lot on my mind." He sighed, his smirk turning into a grim line.

  I paused and turned to face him. He looked like a train wreck with heavy eyelids and a furrowed forehead. I needed to be there for my best friend, so I stood in front of him and hugged him firmly as his racked sobs came out.

  The realization of not being there for him hit me hard. We didn't spend enough time alone together, and regret was my second skin as he breathed out in relief after letting it all out.

  I felt awful for neglecting him and not knowing what he was going through. He wouldn't want to burden the girls with it, either.

  "Do you feel better?" I asked as I held him at arm's length.

  His eyes, rimmed with red, told me otherwise, but he tried to smile.

  "Kind of. I just don't know how to feel about my dad's death."

  The air seemed to vanish from my lungs as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. The palpable tension hung heavily between us, with only the ticking of the clock breaking the silence.

  "How did it happen?"

  I figured asking about it might ease his tense shoulders. He leaned against the back of the couch and gazed at the floor before he spoke with a slight cough.

  "Well, that's the thing—I don't know." He laughed dryly, "After we got back to classes, I received a message from Mom as if it were the most normal thing. 'Hey sweetheart, your dad died. Much love.'" He mocked with a tear-stained face.

  "Uh...that's rough." I miserably failed at offering comfort as I placed a hand on his shoulder and patted him.

  He snorted, "Don't even try to feel bad for me. You're terrible at it."

  "If you want, I can stay with you," I offered.

  "No, thanks. I'll drink my worries away, man. This messed-up mansion—well, the only good thing about it is the wine cabinet." He grinned, "Besides, you've been waiting forever for a date with your girl. Go have fun." He pushed me toward the door and closed it behind me.

  I stood on the front porch, torn between two choices: return to stay with Brady or go on the date with Destiny. My mind was clouded as I hesitated.

  "If you don't go, so help me God, I will scream bloody murder." Brady's voice came from behind the closed door, startling me.

  I knew he meant it.

  So, I chose the latter. I got into my car, started the engine, and sped along the highway to Destiny's house. I made sure to check on the bouquet of white lilacs and sunflowers I had brought. I hoped she would like them.

  When I arrived, I saw her dad outside. I debated whether to wait in the car or talk to him. It was too late to make a choice as he waved me over. I held the bouquet to my chest, my palms sweating as if it were my first time.

  "Hey, young man. How are you doing?" her dad asked casually.

  "Great, and how about you?"

  "It's been going well with my new job," he said, shoving his hand into the pocket of his brown pants.

  "Congratulations."

  "Thank you," he replied with a friendly smile. "I'm glad Destiny has someone like you. And please thank your friend for me; I didn't have the chance before. But I promise I'll pay him back." He said solemnly.

  "No problem at all. I'm lucky to have your daughter by my side." I mentally cringed at my words. They sounded too cheesy, but her dad didn't seem to mind. He slapped me on the back and told me I was a good man.

  The door creaked open, and I forgot how to breathe when she stepped out to meet me.