Chase & Adrienne

18

ADRIENNE

SATURDAY NIGHT

I hear the dull roar of the fans permeating through the walls of the gymnasium as I search for a parking spot. At first, I had opted out of the Homecoming basketball game tonight in light of recent events, namely the little fiasco that took place at Mike's yesterday. Cramming myself in a space with Luke and Chase is a recipe for disaster, and I told myself this over and over. I had drawn out a map for the rest of my life, detailed paths on how I could avoid at least one of them for the rest of my high school career. Unfortunately, this would be a little more difficult than you would think. The only reason I changed my mind about coming was because Luke of the sweet text Luke had sent me just hours earlier, presumably in the locker room before they started warming up. It was the longest message I've ever gotten from him, and he apologized for yesterday, and he asked me to come support him at the game tonight. It may not have been much, but it was a heck of a lot more effort than my other so-called "friends" had put in to try and patch things up. They're already trying to distance themselves from me. Not a single person answered my calls, and Chase literally ignored it. I should've known better. Hint received, Chase. Loud and clear. 

As I park my car in an extremely distant parking spot, I have the long walk to a gym to think. Yay. I reflect on me and Chase's ongoing fight. I hurt him, he hurts me, I hurt him, and so on. I can't help but notice the cyclical nature of it, wondering with dread if this cycle will ever end. I don't try to imagine how much worse it can get at this point. 

Because of my last-minute decision, the game is already in the fourth quarter by the time I walk in. The flourescent lights shine with such an intensity, lighting up the court. The bleachers are packed, home and visitor sides, and I crane my neck to find a seat. Unsurprisingly, Danny, Renee, and Carmen are the first people I spot. The four of us always sit in the very front row--or stand, rather--so we can be a central piece of the student section. If Chase or Andre have to inbound the ball right in front of us, Carmen or Danny will always spank them. I look at my friends now, at the people I've so closely intertwined my soul with, and my chest tightens. They are having the time of their lives, hands raised in the air, chanting with the rest of the roaring student body. I don't want to ruin their night with unnecessary drama. I'm not sure they'd want me to sit with them either. I stay where I am, near the safety of the exit and far enough away from the student section to give Danny, Carmen, and Renee the space that they want. I stay on the edge of the bleachers, sitting next to an elderly couple who remind me of one of the guards on the team. 

With two minutes left in the game, tensions begin to rise. The score is close, too close. We're playing our rival school in our Homecoming game, and there will be hell to pay if we don't win this game. Chase, Luke, and Andre are all on the court--three of the teams best players. I can tell instantly that Chase and Luke really don't want to be working together. I can't imagine how they've been able to play together for this long. 

Chase throws Luke a back-door pass, threading it seamlessly through two defenders, and the crowd gasps excitedly. The ball slips out of Luke's hands, going out of bounds. It is a crucial play, and the sounds of the crowd depresses while the opposing fans scream excitedly. 

"Try to catch the ball next time, Butterfingers," Chase spits. Luke tenses immediately. 

"Why don't you learn how to pass a basketball?" Luke shoots back, his voice beginning to rise. 

"Why don't you learn how to treat a girl?"

As the two of them jog back on defense, Luke shoves Chase with his shoulder. This is when everything seems to go in slow-motion. Chase runs at Luke, knocking him to the floor. He lands two solid punches before Andre peels a kicking Chase off of Luke. They're still trying to go at each other, but thankfully, the rest of the team intervenes. Jackson, the power forward, seizes Luke, holding him back. As the crowd stands to its feet in shock, the referee comes barreling into the mix, blowing his whistle frantically and trying desperately to quiet down the two guys as they scream at each other. They're words are pretty indiscernible, but I pick out my name twice. The ref promptly throws both of them out of the game. At this, Coach Z. completely loses his mind, slamming his clipboard against the gym floor. It clangs agains the floor loudly, causing me to jump  little. Chase and Luke push their way to the door, both fuming. Several of their teammates stand between them, making sure no more attacks can take place. The crowd murmurs in their absence, and I pray that they don't figure out that I'm to blame. After Chase and Luke are gone, the game continues. 

Carmen walks past me in a rush, following after them. My stomach clenches with jealousy. I know she's gonna go talk to Chase. It stings a little, remembering how that used to be my job. Still, if I try to talk to him now, it'll just make the situation a heck of a lot worse than it already is. As Carmen passes me, she shoots me a dirty look.