Brooklyn vs. Manhattan *Spot Conlon Modern AU*

35. The Great War (pt. 1)

"My knuckles were bruised like violets"

***April's POV***

Brooklyn vs. Manhattan Game Day

I'm up by five AM. I could barely sleep all night. It's been like this for the past few days. Really, since the coffee shop with Spot. And Jace. I haven't really talked to him recently. I couldn't bring myself too, knowing that he was the reason I hurt Spot. It was my fault. All of it.

Even when I'm cursing Spot out in the dreams I had when I could sleep, I knew that's not how it went. I tore his banners down, and now the battle is only in my mind. Spot resolved it. And now tonight, it's the rival game. My life is a mess.

Of course, we've been training hard, and we're undefeated whereas Brooklyn's Varsity Girls team has a losing record. There's no chance we're letting them beat us. But it's different for the boys' teams. Brooklyn has a better record and has beat us multiple times. Even if Manhattan trains super hard, Brooklyn is training hard. It's a hard truth to admit; knowing Spot wants to beat Manhattan and he'll do anything to get it done.

I don't head downstairs until seven, after getting ready and then reading two chapters of my book. Crutchy's in the kitchen already, and I hear him talking to someone. I walk towards the fridge to get breakfast and realize that it's Mush that's here.

"Good morning boys," I say, opening the fridge.

"Morning April," Mush says, reaching out and ruffling my hair. "Ready for the games tonight?"

I sigh. "Honestly, no not really. It's too much."

Mush nods slowly. "I heard about you and Spot. I'm sorry. But no worries, I'm ready to beat him today."

I give him a smile I don't mean. Mush must see it, because he looks sad. I grab a smoothie from the fridge and then head to the living room, collapsing on the couch. I close my eyes, exhausted, and flashes of last year's game come back to me in a blur. Last year, Brooklyn won both games, while Manhattan's JV teams won both of their games. I was on JV then, so it was great. But I remember sitting in the bleachers and watching the Varsity play and seeing the amount of energy and anger both teams were playing with. Knowing I was going to be on Varsity the next year while watching that game made me realize it wasn't all just a sweet dream.

The only thing that distracted me from the upcoming dread of the most intense game I'm ever going to play was Spot. My hand was the one he reached for all throughout this great war. Even though I thought I did a good job at distracting myself, the week where he and I didn't see each other was rough, and some nights I would find myself crying. On those nights, I vowed I wouldn't cry if we survived these games. But I guess we didn't.

My mind flashes back to the first time Spot and I hung out. I remember that around all our attraction towards each other, that there was awkwardness. In my head at the time, Spot was still a sort of fantasy. I hadn't really talked to him, I had only heard stories from the guys, so my brain just made him an evil sort of guy from a fantasy book.

"We keep it a secret and we don't get attached. No drama."

"No drama."

We said no drama. We said we wouldn't get attached. That was the original agreement. How did we end up at this point then? We dragged it onto long. We knew we were playing with fire, and if you play for fire too long, the entire thing will blow up. Which we did. Spot taught me to trust easier, but that was my mistake.

Not that this break up is my fault, right? I shake my head. Of course I'm partly to blame. This is not the same as the past, where Spot broke up with me when I needed him the most. I can't punish him for leaving me when I left him first this time.