A Bleacher Boy's Perspective (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 6

 "Have you lost all your sanity?" Robin says incredulously, slamming his lunch tray against the table, plopping forcefully into the seat beside me.

"I am perfectly sane." I pause, chewing my nachos slowly, contemplating. "Well, by any medical facility standards anyways." I finish, eyeing the space between us suspiciously.

"Well maybe they ought to lower the bar then." He mutters, glaring at his sandwich distastefully.

"What the hell did that sandwich ever do to you?" I ask, knitting my brows together.

"It's not the sandwich you dumbass. It's Derek." Robin scoffed, rolling eyes, taking a questionably large bite. His chewing is slow and stiff, his mouth clamped shut in annoyance.

"Am I...Missing something?" I ask uncertainly, nudging my plate away, eyeing him with a mixture of bewilderment and confusion.

Robins sighs, repeatedly banging his head against the table, groaning. His olive hands are now pale from its firm grasp wrapped around the plastic tray.

"Did I do something? Why are you acting so weird? Is it about the bet? Because I'll have you know--" I start in a pathetic effort to provide comfort.

"It's not about the damn bet!" He snaps, banging a fist against the table. My eyes widen. He sighs, rubbing his hands against his face. "It's about the fact that you made it. I mean what does this even mean? Is he going to start sitting with us? Are you going to start hanging out with him now? What about me--?"

"Wait..."I halt in my tracks, unsure how to continue or if it was even safe to. "Do you think Derek Williams is replacing you?" I say, the uncertainty filling the two foot gap between us. The very idea that Robin would be envious of Derek Williams is preposterous. If there was a single person who resented the 'star' quarterback as much as I did, though a little less, it would be Robin. He had to know I'd never leave him. Much less for someone as despicable as Derek Williams.

"He may as well. I mean the guy is all you talk about. Derek this...Derek that...I swear for a guy who claims he dislikes the guy, you sure can't shut up about him. And then you agree with this." He explains in distraught, his voice slowly simmering down from its loud and enraged tone, to little more than a pathetic murmur.

I exhale, rubbing my knuckles anxiously. I know I did this bet to get rid of Derek. That was the deal. And yet, my best friend, who knows me probably better than I know myself is questioning my intentions. "If you hate him so much, why did you even let me talk to him?" I inquire.

"I-I don't know. I thought I was doing you a favor." He admits, his words stumbling.

"And you don't think that anymore?"

Robin looks away. Averting his attention to opening his College Algebra textbook and flipping through its pages.

"Robin. I don't get it. This is stupid. It's just a dumb bet. It's like you said earlier, you're either with them or against them. I'm just making my stance clear."

At this Robin's eyes perk up, his brown ones meeting my hazel ones, with what's that? Anger? Distrust? "Are you?" The question is genuine. Like he really can't wrap his head around what this bet means. What winning means. He stands to his feet and picks up his tray.

"Wait, where are you going?" I question worriedly, the fear leaking through the manly sheen that I've carefully manufactured and perfected over the years. "You can't seriously be upset with me right now? I'm going to win it. He won't convince me otherwise. I haven't failed you before, this time is no different."

Robin shakes his head, his jaw clenched tightly, and the muscle in his neck pulsing as he restrains himself from using a few carefully selected words that he knew he'd regret later on. "There's a first time for everything Mikey. You know what? Just leave it. I'm going to the sports medicine room to patch this up." He lifts his right hand, exposing the slightly bloodied fist from earlier when he couldn't contain his explosive temper.