Teddy Bear Love

Chapter VIII - Haunted

Theodore  

I was peeling off my gloves when I saw them – Tom leaning against the ancient oak tree as he owned it and Lucy's golden hair catching the late afternoon sun. There were other guys gathered around, and I could see them chatting with her. Mustering their best 'fuck boy smiles,' My pulse quickened when I saw her hand him something.  

"Hey, Tom," I called out, my voice casual as I approached, masking the tightness in my chest. I tossed my lacrosse stick from one hand to the other, feigning indifference. "What's up?"

"Beckington!" Tom greeted with a wide grin that didn't reach his eyes. "We were just talking about the upcoming rally. You coming?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," I replied, leaning on my stick. The principal will be honoring me and..." Vivianne. I coughed, then continued, "I won't be missing it. It'll be lit."

"Absolutely. They're saying it's going to be bigger than last year." Tom looked at Lucy, including her in the conversation. "She here was just saying she's never been to one."

"Really?" I turned to Lucy, trying to ignore the way her presence softened my edges. "Well, you're in for an experience."

"Sports isn't really my scene," She admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I'm curious."

"So, how's the team shaping up to you, Tom? Think we've got a shot this season?"

"Hell yeah," he said, puffing up a bit. "Coach has us on a new training regimen—brutal, but effective."

"I agree," I nodded, feeling the familiar thrill of competition. "And how about you, Sister? Joining any clubs or teams?"

"Um, there's a lot to consider. I'm not really sure yet." Lucy answered, her cheeks coloring slightly. "I'm not sure what I'd be good at."

"Well, let me think... You're pretty and a girl. So, cheerleading." Tom joked while biting his lip at her.

"Oh, that's definitely not me." she countered lightly.

"Be real," Tom said while smirking. "You'd rival Vivianne as top shit at Beckington Academy if you tried out."

"Exactly," I agreed faster than I should have. I cleared my throat while stretching my arms over my head.

She shifted uncomfortably, "You guys are just being nice."

"I swear," Tom pledged with a hand over his heart. He then said, "Hey Lucy, you'll be at the next game, right? It's going to be epic," Tom said with an easy confidence that grated on me.

"Um, I'm not sure," She hesitated, her melodic voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

"Come on, I could really use your support," Tom pressed, his smile widening in a way that was meant to be charming. I could almost see the invisible hook he was casting, trying to reel her in.

"Maybe," she replied, still noncommittal, and I found my jaw clenching involuntarily.

"Our star player here always steals all the cheers," Tom added, nudging me with his elbow conspiratorially. "Right, Theodore?"

"I can't help it," I managed to say through gritted teeth, feigning disinterest. But inside, my gut twisted at the thought of Lucy cheering for anyone but me. Stupid, I chided myself silently. "Someone cheering for you, that would be a sight indeed," I quipped, throwing in a playful wink despite the tightness in my chest.

"See? I need someone on my side." Tom exclaimed, his gaze fixed on her in what I assumed was his best attempt at being endearing.

"I suppose I could come for a little while," She conceded, her cheeks coloring slightly, and I felt a peculiar sense of relief mixed with annoyance. Why should it matter to me?

"Brilliant, it's settled then! Beckington Academy's finest brains and brawn united under one banner," Tom declared triumphantly.

"Brains and beauty for Lucy," I added smoothly, regaining my composure. "But let's not forget who the real stars are." I flashed a grin, locking eyes with her for a moment before breaking away.

"Hey Theo, you reckon we'll smash the regionals this year?" One of the guys asked, tossing a lacrosse ball from hand to hand.

"Without a doubt," I replied, my tone dripping with the usual confidence expected of Theodore Beckington—the name that carried a legacy. But as my eyes flitted to Lucy, who was laughing at something someone else said, I struggled to swallow down the jealousy that threatened to bubble up like bile. It wasn't supposed to affect me this way. She was just a girl—a new girl at that.

"Lucy's got her bets on us too, right?" another chimed in, nudging her playfully.

"Of course," she answered, her honey-colored eyes lighting up with a sportsmanship I hadn't known she possessed. "You all seem very dedicated."

Her words should have been simple praise, but they felt intimate and personal. I forced my lips into a half-smile and turned away, pretending to be interested in a non-existent spot on my shoe.

"Theodore, here is our secret weapon, though. Right, mate?" Tom threw an arm around my shoulders, his camaraderie grating on me for reasons I didn't want to examine.

"Secret weapon? Please, I'm as subtle as a sledgehammer," I quipped back cockily. 

"Subtle enough to charm the birds from the trees, more like," Tom laughed, unaware of the irony in his statement.

"What can I say?" I conceded, glancing back at Lucille, only to find her looking away quickly. What was that about?

The others dabbed me and Tom up before heading to the locker room to wash up. Something I needed to do also. They flashed flirtatious smiles and gave Lucy waves goodbye. I rolled my eyes.

Suddenly, Tom's phone erupted with a sharp ringtone, shattering the casual banter like glass. He fished the device from his pocket and glanced at the screen, a grimace forming on his face. "Sorry, gotta take this," he mumbled before jogging off, leaving me alone with Lucy.

"Um, Theodore," Lucy began hesitantly, her eyes avoiding mine. " I'm sorry about not showing up today, but I think we shouldn't continue the study sessions together. I know it was just an obligation in the first place. So, there's no need to worry about it anymore."

"Lucy," I said, my voice softer than I intended. "It wasn't—"

"Please," she interrupted, holding up a hand to stop me. "I don't want to make things more difficult for you and Vivianne." Despite the warmth in her tone, there was a hint of sadness lingering beneath her words. My heart skipped a beat when Vivianne's name left her lips.

"Lucy—" I tried again, but she was walking away. "Goodbye, Theodore," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her figure retreated, and as the distance grew between us, so did the realization of how much I didn't want her to leave. Why was I Theodore to her again?

I knew Vivianne had said something to her. "Damn it," I muttered to myself, clenching my fists. What was happening to me? Since when did Theodore Beckington care about missed study sessions or shy, sandy-blonde-haired girls with voices that haunted him?

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