fair/unfair

01.

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       Reid couldn't concentrate on practice. 

       Not when he saw Mason lounging across the bleachers, his head propped up in the lap of a pretty blonde girl, smoke blowing from his mouth as he laughed out loud at something she said. To make matters worse, he knew that girl didn't go to this school. He would've remembered her. How could he not when she was running her fingers through Mason's hair like he used to do? The boy in question blew out rings of smoke and then they're both laughing again. 

       It felt like a knife in his gut.

       He hadn't even realized he'd stopped on the field to stare until someone slammed into him, jostling him forward a few feet. The whistle blew, shaking him out of his thoughts, and Wilson glared at him from the sidelines.

      "Get your fucking shit together, Patton!" he yelled, like he wasn't swearing at a bunch of underage students. "Or find the goddamn bench! Everyone else – ah, fuck it. Take fifteen."

      Reid shot the coach a thumbs-up, and then scanned the field for the ball. Jax had it again, showing off as usual, bouncing the ball on his knees. As Reid jogged up towards him, the older boy grinned. "What's the matter, Patton? Your ass of the month finally realize he wasn't a queer like you?"

      The slur slid off Reid's back; he was used to being heckled for being gay from his teammates. With Jax's shaved head and tattooed knuckles, swearing and insults just came with the territory. The team always joked it was his shitty way of being endearing. It didn't help that Jax was laying it on thick because he had been dating the guy's best friend, though.

       "Fuck you," Reid said easily. He shot a glance towards Mason and the girl, who were now sucking each other's faces off. He jerked his chin towards him. "You know her?"

       Jax let the ball fall, glancing over in their direction. "Nah. You don't think—"

      "That Mason's traitorous scum?" Reid shrugged. "It's happened before."

      "Yeah, but Zuckoff couldn't keep his pants zipped up for nothin'. Fraternizing with the enemy was basically him marking his territory like a goddamn pup. Mason wouldn't do that. Not casually, and not to us."

       Before Reid could reply, a quick figure darted past them, stealing the soccer ball right out from under Jax's foot, sending him stumbling backwards.

       "Motherfucker—"

       "Whew, boy. You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Grace grinned from where she stood slightly behind Reid, half-hidden and out of reach from an angry Jax, the soccer ball tucked underneath her arm. "Or, is it your sister?" Her eyebrows waggled. "Brother?"

       Jax flipped her off. "I regret telling you I'm from West Virginia."

       "Don't hate the playa." Grace braced the ball between her knees so she could tug her wild curls up into a bun, sweat causing strands to stick to her face. "Speaking of the game, what the hell are you guys doing out here, anyway? I thought the field was free."

       "Coach has us practicing for the summer." Reid kicked up a tuft of grass, half-annoyed at the prospect of having his summer plans automatically obliterated, but he understood the reasoning behind it. Sports were a very big deal at Hollis. "Apparently, we fucking suck and that either we get our shit together or we're not going to be able to beat the Foxes next year."

       "You call this practicing?" Grace glanced around the field where the rest of the team was either sprawled out on the grass or lazily kicking practice balls back and forth between each other.