Cruel Me

Chapter 25 |Part 2|: Byegone

It was the last one.

I stared down each and everyone of my competitions. They were eyeing me, too. One small move and we all knew we were going for it. Just one tiny movement to break the ice.

Neither of us moved.

It was the waiting game.

But then a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed the only piece in the box.

"Nooooo!"

Our war cries attracted the attention of the rest of the people in the parking lot. But our focus was solely on the thief who was currently munching on our precious last piece of pizza. Insensitive prick.

"Dude!" snapped Kurt.

"How could you?" sobbed Alfie, with a hand on his chest.

Frisco shook his head sadly. "You should've just left it alone."

"Didn't see any one of you reaching for it," shrugged Parker, the fullback on the team. I might've already mentioned him before.

He was about my size, with his chocolate skin darker than Kurt's. Well, maybe just a little. See, Kurt was a mulatto so he was more of a mocha mixed with a whole bunch of milk kinda guy, with gray eyes and all. Or was it green? Maybe even blue.

Hell, sometimes I swear it changes color.

Anyway, Parker Smith was more on the side of a rich chocolate, with an almost shaved head. Guess he didn't have the guts to go all the way bald. Wuss.

There was a rumor that he was Will Smith's hidden son, you know. Some people were convinced because Parker got that Mike Lowrey swagger. Well, I couldn't deny that.

"I asked for pizza," Kurt told him. "Not your onion."

I pressed my lips together, leaned over him, and said, "I think you mean 'opinion.'"

"Same thing," he snorted.

I chuckled.

My eyes wandered to Connie, who I noticed didn't say anything. I caught her locked in a staring contest with Parker, the corner of her lips turned up. It was kinda icky and intense. I didn't know how to feel about the possibility of them hooking up.

Oh, wait. Yes, I do. I mean, sure. Parker's cool and all. But he ain't part of the crew for a reason. There was something about him I couldn't quite trust.

I switched my focus to Frisco. He was animatedly chatting with Alfie, oblivious to the eye fucking going on not a couple of feet away. Poor guy.

When a familiar face passed by, I saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone because I was awesome like that.

"Hey, Trent."

The lanky kid stiffened and immediately halted in his tracks. Cautiously, he glanced at me. Huh, looked like he still hadn't moved on from the beer incident. Gotta change that.

I waved him over, and he obeyed. As he neared, I turned to Parker.

"Yo, Parker."

He turned to me. "What's up?"

"From now on, I want you to train with this kid," I told him, nodding to Trent.

All heads whipped to the sophomore's direction. Trent's eyes widened with surprise, obviously not expecting me to say that.

"What are you doing?" asked Alfie, from the corner of his mouth.

"Acknowledging his potential," I answered, as if it wasn't a biggie. And it wasn't. With the proper guidance, that kid could play first string. In a louder voice, I added, "How 'bout it, Parker? Show him the ropes and all that shit."