Run

Yale Matthews (BEFORE)

He despised his birth name and refused to answer it. His parents eventually complied, seeing as how Yale did ignore them, and settled to just calling him by Matthew. Everyone else called him Mattie.

These thoughts continued to race through his mind as he tugged harshly at his dark locks before dropping his hand to grasp the basketball and shooting. Shooting. Shooting. Each time the ball left his palms, it landed through the hoops with ease. He should be calm by now.

Instead, frustration still coursed through his veins and all he wanted was it gone. All he wanted was to just be at peace. So he took a few more steps back and tossed a few more and they all landed into the basket. With a growl that ripped through his throat, Mattie flexed his arm back and just threw it and the orange ball hit the wall with a resounding thud.

"Maybe you should join another sports team like boxing if you're gonna throw that hard."

The sudden voice caused Mattie's muscles to tense before he relaxed then let out a breathy laugh, dropping the basketball. For awhile, the sound of the ball bouncing against the hardwood floors was all they heard for awhile before James fully entered the Matthews' personal basketball court.

It was Mattie's seventh birthday present from his uncle, a brand new court with his initials decorating the center. Every month, his parents would have the floors newly waxed.

"Just needed to release some tension," Mattie sighed and pushed back his dark hair but it fell onto his forehead anyway.

James dribbled the basketball that the other boy dropped before attempting a free throw. It bounced off the rim. "Class ended only half an hour ago. Usually, you come here an hour after attempting homework," he commented and tried again for a lay up. The ball landed after it bounced from the headboard.

"How about you just focus on boxing and leave the basketball to me, alright? And I don't know, man, I've been needing to be here more. Jesus Christ, if this is me as a junior, how the hell am I gonna survive senior year?" Mattie stole the ball from the taller boy with ease and with one hand, he made one simple shot, nothing but net.

James rolled his eyes, already hating where the subject was ending. Out of all the seven boys, he didn't do too well academically and the only pride he had was boxing and even some type of street dancing when the confines of his home became too much. He fell back and tugged at the tie he had on, loosening it.

The school uniform was something Mattie and James despised; it was complete with navy blue slacks, white collared shirt, tie, and a blazer with the academy symbol emblazoned on the front pocket of their left hand side. Girls wore something similar although the ties were shorter and the slacks were exchanged with a navy blue pleated skirt. However, there wasn't a requirement for the type of shoes and the entire group wore converse with their uniform. It was the only freedom they could acquire.

The only sound that echoed through the court was the swish of each ball landing through the baskets and strangely enough, James found it calming and he removed his blazer before laying down on the cool floor with his arm resting across his eyes. Mattie glanced over, wondering why his friend wasn't speaking, and dropped the basketball then jogged over. He nudged the other with his foot.

"Come on, get up. You gonna take a nap, then don't have it here." Mattie offered his hand and James took it, allowing him to pull him up to his feet. "I gotta get ready for that gala my mom had been pressing me to do. I'll see you later."

"I'll see you tonight. My parents making me go too."

In that moment, Mattie had clearly forgotten that the entire gala was made for his parents to mingle with other investors or any sponsors that would help with their company and James's parents were one of the most successful corporations out there. "Right. Then I'll see you later."

Mockingly, James saluted the other and Mattie couldn't help but notice the red scratches upon the other's knuckles, as if he was boxing again without gloves.

--

The world of uniforms and important, formal parties were so long gone that it seemed like a dream to Mattie. His comfy bed was replaced with a tattered mattress and instead of the extravagant watch on his nightstand, there was an ashtray placed upon the rickety table and smoke still wafted up.