Breaking The Bad Boy (Completed)

Chapter 53: Put Me Down Or I'll Crush Your Balls

[A/N: Song for the chapter:
- One Republic // What You Wanted]

"Come on Blake. Please say yes."

"No way."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please Blake? I'll buy you a DVD to add to your collection."

"As tempting as that sounds, I'll pass. Thanks though."

"Blake," I said in a flat voice.

"Ashley," He used the same tone and rolled his eyes.

We stared at each other, both unyielding as I narrowed my eyes.

"It's not like I'm asking you to jump off the moon and plummet to your death. It's a simple request."

"First of all, if I jump off the moon, I won't fall, I'll just float because I'd be in space stupid. And second of all, this is Tyler we're talking about. Simple doesn't even cover your ridiculous request Ash."

Frustrated, I buried my head into my Physic's textbook and suppressed the urge to scream. I had three choices: to scream, to bite my lip or to strangle my friend's scrawny neck. So to avoid Mr Davies' attention, I bit my lip - hard.

"Blake, you know just how much the soccer team needs him," I pleaded him, sick of how desperate I was beginning to sound. "All I'm asking is for you to talk to Coach Webber. Just get him a try-out and I'll make sure he's there."

One week ago in Tyler's bedroom, I asked him to join the team just as a suggestion and he shot me down. No thought, no consideration, nothing. He straight out gave me a deathly look and his tone was icy enough to chill my bones. But all I could remember was the day of his first appointment with Dr Jillian and his desire to be on the team again. He said so himself: 'It was my escape from reality. Some people like to read, write, play music, dance, y'know...whatever helps them forget about their shitstorm problems. All I had to do was pick up a soccer ball and all my problems would go away.'

I just want Tyler's life to be like it was before Taylor's death, blissful, stress-free and enjoyable.

Blake's green eyes darkened a fraction.

"Sounds like another set up to me."

I turned my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at him.

"This is nothing like the janitor closet shit!"

Blake arched an eyebrow. "Isn't it? Sure sounds similar to me. I mean, you're going to lie to him, lure him to the soccer pitch and then leave him stranded in a place where he'd rather drink acid than be."

Sitting up again, I stretched my arms over my head and sighed deeply. Why wasn't he on the same page as me? I wasn't doing this to spite Tyler. I was doing this to help get his old life back, and the soccer team was part of that equation.

"Seriously Blake, stop acting like I'm orchestrating a freaking assassin. Getting Tyler to try-out for the team won't kill him. As much as you refuse to believe me, he needs the team. He needs his old life back."

I watched his lips straighten into a frown. He raked a hand through his black hair, feathering the locks before they fell back onto his forehead.

"I'm the second captain for the team after Dylan," Blake scowled at me. "Don't you think I'd do anything to get someone like Tyler on our team. He could single-handedly flip our luck around and win us the games we've been losing. I would do anything to get him on our team except–"

"Except risk your newly rekindled friendship," I interjected and pursed my lips.

With a curt nod, he sighed. "Yeah, except that. Tyler means more to me than the damn team. I don't care if we lose our next two games. I don't care if that means we're out for the season. I don't care if I miss out on a damn soccer scholarship. It aint that deep, it really isn't, because I just got my best friend back, and shit like that isn't worth putting on the line. I need him more than two stupid wins. I can make do without a full ride scholarship."