The Pages Within [BxB]

Consequences

I knew this moment was coming. The fallout. The consequences. Everything I'd been avoiding, every mess I'd tried to bury under the surface, was finally about to blow up in my face. There was no running from it now.

It started small—side-eye glances in the hallways, people pausing their conversations when I walked by, whispers that followed me like a shadow. The rumors were spreading fast, growing like a storm I couldn't outrun. My fight with Elijah wasn't just a private matter anymore; it had become campus news. And in a place as small and tight-knit as this, it wouldn't be long before everyone knew every last detail—whether it was true or not.

The first real sign that things were spiraling out of control came at football practice. I'd skipped a few sessions after the fight, avoiding the team and unable to face anyone. But when I finally showed up, the tension was unbearable. It felt like everyone was watching me, waiting for me to fall apart. Elijah, who hadn't pressed charges but had completely cut me off, kept his distance. The rest of the team had put up an invisible wall around me, and suddenly, I was an outsider.

Coach didn't even bother with a greeting when I showed up late to practice again. He was waiting for me at the entrance to the locker room, arms crossed, his face tight with frustration. Without a word, he jerked his head toward his office, signaling me to follow.

I could feel every player's eyes on me as I trailed behind Coach into his office, the weight of their judgment pressing down on my chest. I already knew what was coming, but that didn't make it any easier to face.

"Close the door," Coach said in a low, even voice that signaled I was in for it.

I shut the door quietly and sat down across from him, trying to control the pounding in my chest. The silence in the room was thick, stretching between us like a suffocating fog.

"What the hell is going on with you, Castillo?" His tone wasn't angry—it was worse. He was disappointed. "You've been off for weeks. You're late to practice, your head's not in the game, and now I'm hearing about fights and rumors. This isn't you."

I swallowed, my throat dry. "Coach, I—"

He cut me off, leaning forward, his eyes drilling into mine. "I don't want excuses. You've been one of the best players on this team, but right now? I don't recognize the guy sitting in front of me. What the hell happened to you?"

The words hit hard, but he was right. This wasn't me. At least, not the version of me that everyone thought they knew. The problem was, I didn't even know who I was anymore.

"I'm benching you," Coach said, each word like a punch. "Until you figure out whatever's going on in your life, you're not stepping back on the field."

His words took a second to register, but when they did, it felt like the ground had dropped out from under me. Being benched wasn't just about missing a few games—football was everything to me. It was the one thing that kept me grounded when everything else was falling apart. Now, even that was being taken away.

"Coach, please," I said, my voice cracking. "I can fix this. I just need time."

He shook his head, the frustration in his eyes softening a little. "You're a good player, Castillo, but you're not in the right headspace. I'm not doing this to punish you. I'm doing this because you need to get your head straight before you make things worse for yourself and the team. You're benched. End of story."

There was no point in arguing. I had screwed up, and now I had to live with the consequences.

When I left Coach's office, the entire team knew. I could feel their eyes on me as I walked across the field—pity mixed with disappointment. Some of them didn't even bother to look at me, like I was already a lost cause. The silent judgment hurt the most. No one said anything, but they didn't have to. The message was clear: You're the guy who fell apart. You let us down.