Training Camp Compromise

Chapter 2

Julian loved coffee. He made it strong, black and drank it steaming hot. He would miss his coffee maker after he found it broken from the moving truck. He would miss that coffee maker dearly.

He would miss his home dearly as well. This place, he looked around as he stepped out of the car, was the last place he wanted to be. He wanted to be in his apartment, in his room, with his friends and in his town. He took his sunglasses off to get the full look at his new building, face immediately scrunching in disgust. The heat was brutal, the sun beaming overhead making him feel sticky and nauseous. 

"Don't make that face dear, try and think positively..." His Mother's kind voice came from behind him.

Soon her hand rubbed across his back and rested on his shoulder, her head leaning against the other. His Mother was way too kind for her own good. She was too kind to her neighbors, leading to their own loss of sugar packets, ketchup, or any other item one of them would ask to 'borrow' but never return. She was too kind to the dog that ended up biting her, she was too kind to her husband--Julian's dad-- which he took for granted. He also happened to take all of their money as well. Lastly, her last act of kindness that came back shorthanded was she was too nice to the landlord, even as he kicked them out from their apartment. He was sure that after everything, after all these years, his Mother would never be nice again. She had a good reason not to be, yet still, her thumb rubbed circles on his shoulders and she looked at him with such concern he thought she might cry. His gaze softened.

"Im trying Ma. I really am." 

She gave him a soft smile and stood on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

"And you're doing well. I know this is hard but I am proud of you for handling it how you are."

She pinched his shoulder and smiled more, blinking back tears. 

"Now, help me unload the truck."

Julian felt himself blinking back his own watering eyes, casting one more look at the building before turning to grab boxes from the truck, swallowing his displeasure. Soon after he found his coffee maker broken and found it a lot harder to blink away the tears that filled his eyes. This wasn't right. None of it. He didn't deserve this, his Angel of a mother didn't deserve this, hell his poor coffee maker didn't deserve this. The apartment smelt old, the walls looked crusty and the rug was stained. He sat on the floor of his new room, back against the wall, chin on his knees, his arms protectively around his legs. He was doing well with keeping the thoughts away until he heard his mother praying in their native language, her words muffled by the walls but squeezing his heart and pulling the tears from his eyes. This was life now. 

He cried thinking about his Mom. He cried thinking about his old friends and school, he cried for his old apartment and bed. He cried out of pure sadness until it was tinted with frustration and before he knew it he was crying over his new life instead of his old. In a few days he would report to his soon to be new school. He would shake the hand of his soon-to-be coach and his feet would touch his soon-to-be field. But, his fists clenched around each other, worst of all he would be face to face with him. The blond-haired jerk who spent years taunting Julian with his stupid money and his stupid, fancy clothes and his stupid ability to be better than him at everything. Julian was a good football player--great even, but no matter how good or great he was, he was always better. After every little league game they played, when his Mother would shower him in kisses and praise him her compliments always circled back to, 

"But oh did you see that blond boy?" 

That was the beginning of Julian's hatred for him, Nathan Baker, the slightly chubby blond haired boy who would always get picked up in a limo after a game. Nathan Baker, God even his name was stupid.