CARNIVORE [MxM+]

Chapter 27 [Revised]

Tycho Black.

I DON'T KNOW HOW THEY KNEW, BUT THE NEXT MORNING, a new copy of every textbook that was ruined was sitting on the room's- no, my, desk. It hurt my chest to think of the amount of money they've spent on me already, and now I had to add a few hundred dollars' worth of books to the mix, because I was too fucking stupid to hide my things. I'm pathetic.

The thought of paying them back for everything they've done made me nauseous. I didn't want to know how much I actually owed them. 

There was something else; a new backpack sat on the chair next to me. Like the books, it had a sleek, new feel. For once, I just wish they'd buy something used, so I wouldn't feel so damn guilty. I felt myself falling into the cycle I always did, getting stuck in my mind and blaming myself for everything. I felt so overwhelmed that I wanted to cry. It was terrifying.

But then I looked at the bottom of the backpack. 

A single sticky note sat at the bottom. The lack of light made the writing blurry, so I pulled it out and turned on the desk lamp to get a better view. 

The handwriting was Alexei's. 

Fuck those guys. :)

And suddenly, my issues didn't exist. I could breathe. 

... 

Saturday night. A little after seven p.m. I'm on the field. My heart is beating so hard it's making my shoulder pads vibrate. I'm so fucking anxious-- but I'm in my element.

Hut, hut, BOOM

The scene in front of me erupts into movement, and the students in the bleachers scream. It's practice all over again, but the fans are real. This entire week, we've been preparing for this game, going over play after play and watching film for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

Due to recent events, I didn't think I'd be playing this early on, but thanks to Louis's leadership and Jayden's stupidity, I'm where I belong. I owe a lot of people a lot these days, but I don't care because before I know it, the ball's in my hands and there's a gap in the colliding bodies-- and I shoot straight for it. 

I make it six yards before I'm yanked to the ground by a linebacker. But for some reason, I don't fucking feel it. 

My head is in this state, like I'm watching some hype movie and I'm the main character. Something important is happening, and I'm so passionate and happy, and I can't believe it. I needed something to live for. I need to win. 

Later in the drive, we end up seven-ish yards away from the end zone, and I'm bleeding and sore but numb at the same time. We're back in the huddle, and I hear my job called out in the play: I'm running the ball again, and I couldn't feel more useful. Everything is going correctly, and I'm chasing this high where everything is okay, and I can't help but feel a bit scared because it's just so fucking exciting. For once in my fucking life, I feel okay existing, and I couldn't be more thrilled. 

Every single play I'm sitting, hunched over, ready to pounce. My hands and legs twitch because I want to do something so badly, but something calms me down. That something has dark brown eyes and loosely curled hair that always takes the shape of his helmet and I can never help but laugh at him every time I see it-- and he laughs too. 

I start to notice that every time Louis looks at me, it grows more and more meaningful every time. He always looks at me with something in his eyes that I can't identify, but I can't help but like it. There's something inside me that enjoys his attention. For a split second, that fleeting voice worms its way into my mind, but it's been getting quieter and quieter as life has gotten better and better. I look at Louis for reassurance every time I hear it. It doesn't even fucking affect me tonight.