Rebound, But Newfound [boyxboy]

Rebound, But Newfound {14}

                Davey chuckled and let me go. “Just messing with you Tommy. I wouldn’t do that. It’s bad enough Zeke hurt your ankle on purpose,” he said, shaking his head.

                I froze as Phil moved away and let Sammy out of the supply shed. “Zeke…what?” I asked in confusion.

                Davey nodded, motioning Phil over as Sammy grumbled out curse words and disappeared back into the supply shed to find a soccer ball.

                “Phil, didn’t Zeke knock Tommy down on purpose?” Davey asked and Phil nodded.

                “He did it so that you couldn’t try out. He was afraid you would get hurt this season if you played. I think that’s just messed up,” Phil said, frowning deeply. “He didn’t have to go and nearly break your ankle like that.”

                I stared at Phil, searching for any sign of a lie as Greg and Davey nodded. Phil wouldn’t lie to me. He didn’t have a reason to; he and I had always gotten along on really good terms. Phil wasn’t the lying type.

                Had…Had Zeke hurt me on purpose?

                “He wouldn’t do that,” I said flatly.

                “He did,” Phil said, giving me sympathetic look.

                “Zeke wouldn’t,” I said confidently. But had he? Would he do that, thinking he was going to protect me? Or even worse…

                Had he done it so that Kory wouldn’t have any competition?

                I tried to fight these thoughts out of my head as Phil gave me another sympathetic look and tried to assure me that Zeke had done it on purpose.

                Sammy came over to us with a soccer ball tucked under his arm. He shoved Phil playfully and they fell to the ground, wrestling each other. I just stared at the spot Zeke had knocked me down at the other day.

                “Tommy? What’s wrong?” Sammy asked as he and Phil stood up.

                “Nothing,” I said casually, snapping out of my thoughts.

                Sammy shrugged and motioned me to follow him. We walked away from Davey, Greg, and Phil and Sammy carefully passed the ball to me so I could practice trapping and passing with my left foot.

                Sammy picked the ball up after a while and sighed. “We better head home before mom gets in. She’ll have a cow if she finds out you came down to the soccer field,” he said.

                He put the soccer ball in the supply shed and we got in the car together. He drove us home and pulled into the driveway. He shut the car off before turning to me and searching my eyes.

                “Tommy, what’s wrong? And don’t give me any bull shit,” he said flatly.

                “Nothing is wrong Sammy. I’m just tired,” I lied smoothly.

                “Is it your ankle?”

                “No, my ankle’s fine.”

                “Your wrist?”

                “Is fine.”

                “Zeke?”