COSMOS | Complete

CHAPTER 45: AARON

The liquid burns down my throat, searing my lungs. I lean my head back, emptying the bottle. Draining every single drop, lapping at it like a man thirsting for water.

With a groan, I throw the bottle aside, leaning back into my bed. My vision blurs, making me close my eyes, but I relish every second. This routine has become the best part of my life. I come home, I drink. I forget.

I am aware of the downwards spiral happening around me. I am aware of what I'm getting myself into, the fate that lies before me. However, if this is the only way to let go, I welcome it with open arms.

I was already destroyed before I met her ... Asher Thomas just made the final kill.

Football practice, 9 am.

Chris and I are team captains from last year, so we sit on the bleachers with Coach Higgins and watch. In front of us, the players are currently going through their stretches. They look pathetic, kicking up their shins and doing side lunges. Little bulky dominoes standing in rows. I want to knock over every single one of them.

Chris blows his whistle besides me after ten-minutes of this. He yells for them to get in line and get ready for drills. Much like me, he has his patience caught on a thin wire, noticeable in his clipped tone.

The boys begin running towards other ends of the field, footballs slung under their arms. However, one person strays from the others. He cuts his way up to the bleachers, barely recognizable in the distance.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" Chris hisses, gaze hardening. I snort beside him, responding: "That's an easy cut."

I let out a laugh, but it dies short as the person's features become recognizable. Curly brown hair, thick frame. Mark.

My vision goes red. My hands curl themselves into fists, and besides me, Chris slaps my shoulder. Warning me. I cannot act up with Coach Higgins a few inches away. I hope for myself not to act up. However, with each passing day, I recognize myself less and less.

"Hey, Aaron," Mark calls, grinning. He tips his head to one side, at ease. "How you doin'?"

"Splendid," I choke out, spitting the word. Mark notices the effect he has on me, which only seems to make him cockier. It takes every ounce of my strength not to spring on him, but with every passing second, my grip on my emotions lessens.

"Just wanted to say," Mark chides, "Asher says hello."

With those words, I let loose. My hold breaks. I snap.

I launch myself from the bleachers, shaking myself from Chris's grip. His yell is barely a whisper behind me as I pounce onto Mark, grabbing his head under my arm. The two of us roll down the bleachers, landing on the grass, tackling at each other. Everything is a blur, everything is mushing together, my hands a flurry and my vision bloody red. I can no longer see a human in front of me, I see a monster, stealing the one thing I had left. I cannot let him get away with it.

"You took everything!" I roar, throwing a punch at his puny face. I think of Asher, standing even a few feet away from him. Kissing him. Hugging him. Being with anyone else but me. I can't stand it.

Mark ducks away from my swing, my hand barely grazing his cheek. This infuriates me even more, and I raise my arm back up for a second round, but someone grabs my wrist. With a grunt, I'm thrown off from Mark, who scrambles away. Without looking, I know that it's Chris, gazing down at me disappointedly.

I hear Mark get to his feet with a grumble and spit at my feet. He walks away towards the school, heading for the nurse's office. Yes, leave, I think, the words screeching inside my head. Don't come back. Never come back.

Chris helps me up with a hand, giving me a once-over. My knees and elbows are bruised, but my face remains unscathed. Chris sighs, beginning to walk me in the direction of the school.

"You're right," he murmurs, grimacing. "This is an easy cut."

I don't have to ask to know that he's talking about me.