cliché (phan)

eighteen

Run.

That was the first thought that must've come to his mind, because in just a few seconds Phil had snapped back to reality and was sprinting across the field as fast as he could.

I turned back around to see his dad beginning to chase after him and my lips formed in a tight line.

"Tyler," I looked at my best friend. "You and Troye go wait in the car. We'll be there in a second."

"Are you sure-" Troye began.

"I'm sure," I told the curly-haired boy. He shot me a sad smile before him and Tyler hurried off, and I rushed to follow Phil.

"Phil, wait up!"

"I don't want to fucking see him!" Phil screamed, stopping and turning around to reveal his face. His cheeks were tear-stained and his body was trembling- half from the cold and half from fear. I wobbled over and took his face in my hands, to which he placed his hands over mine and sighed.

"You can't run from your problems," I murmured.

"I can try," he chuckled sadly. I flashed him a halfhearted smile, and I heard his dad's pants getting louder. I turned and stepped in front of Phil, waiting until his father caught up.

"God, you run a lot faster than I remember," Mr. Lester laughed breathlessly, hunching over to catch his breath.

"That's because I didn't hate you when you were still here," Phil spat. I tensed.

"Phil, please, we need to talk-"

"He doesn't want to talk to you, leave him alone," I glared. He blinked at me.

"And who might you be?"

"I'm Dan, his-" I cut myself off. What were we considered at this point? Dating? Fuck buddies? "His friend." Phil cleared his throat behind me. "And I believe he said he doesn't want to speak to you."

Mr. Lester simply shook his head. "I want my boy to look me in the eyes and tell me that."

Phil stepped in front of me and I got in the middle, watching Phil's eyes flicker up to his face, opening his mouth but no sound coming out. He shut his mouth, looking down. "What do you want?" He finally growled out.

"I want to speak to you. It's been years, you know. I've changed, and so have you. Don't I deserve another chance?"

"Does mom know you're here?" Phil asked, ignoring his previous reply.

Mr. Lester shook his head. "I'm moving back. Apartments. Debra decided she doesn't want me anymore."

"I don't blame her," he muttered under his breath, ignoring the hurt that flashed over his father's face. "What do you want to talk to me about? How worthless I am? How dumb I am? How I'm not the son you wanted, and that Nick is better than me?"

"I've changed, Phil. I've stopped drinking. I promise. I won't hurt you again."

Phil let out a grunt. "You've been saying that for over ten years of your life, yet you're still a shit excuse for a father. I don't want to speak to you, and don't you dare get near my mother or I swear to god I'll murder you with my bare hands."

I gulped at the tone of Phil's words, actually quite intimidated myself.

"What about Nick? Where is he? Are you still in soccer?"

Phil furrowed his eyebrows. "Sort of."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"We got kicked off," Phil answered, gesturing to himself and I. "But we'll be back on soon enough. Either way that's none of your business."

"Can I come to one of your games?"

"No," responded Phil without even the slightest hesitation in his words. Mr. Lester tensed.

"Please just let me try and fix our relationship."

"You can't fix what's not there."

Ouch.

"Please-"

"Mr. Lester, with all due respect, it's obvious you're not wanted here. So, no offense intended -okay yes offense intended-, could you please fuck off?"

"You-"

Without warning the sprinklers set on and the three of us yelped out, and I spotted Tyler at the end of the field, waving and gesturing for us to run.

I nodded towards Phil and while Mr. Lester was distracted, the two of us began sprinting across the damp grass, smiling to ourselves from the adrenaline rush. We caught up to Troye and Tyler, who began running with us.

We jumped in Phil's car and Troye was in the driver's seat, pausing. "Wait, what am I doing? I can't drive."

The three of us groaned as Tyler and Troye quickly swapped places, the engine starting up while Phil's dad was still jogging towards the vehicle.

"Go, go, go!" I commanded. Tyler braked out then sped off, and Phil rolled down the window to holler out to his deadbeat father.

"Fuck you!" He screamed, and we all began laughing breathlessly. Phil held up his middle finger and I watched his dad slow down to a stop, kneeling over and sighing, a sad expression on his face.

"Some people don't deserve second chances," I whispered, more to myself than the three boys in the car. I intertwined hands with the boy next to me, leaning my head on his shoulder tiredly. I looked over to see Troye's hand locked with Tyler's free one and smiled.

"You turned them on?" Phil spoke out to Tyler.

Tyler snorted. "Honey, I turn everything on."

"I can't argue with that," Troye giggled. I stifled a chuckle.

"Wait," Tyler stopped at a stop sign, eyes widening.

"What now?" I moaned.

"We left the to-go box."

"We are not-" Troye began to protest.

"We are going back to get it."

"Tyler, if you turn this car around I'll turn your face around with-"

"That had perfectly good chicken in it! Now shut up and listen to the nice radio!" Tyler argued, cutting Phil off.

And so Tyler cranked the radio up, and we turned the car, and we turned back around. And nobody argued.

Then I looked at Phil, and he looked at me, and even though he didn't speak his mind, the action of him leaning forward and pressing him lips to mine was enough.

"I love you, too."

Maybe we weren't the perfect bunch, but we had each other, and that was the best it was gonna get.