Game, Set, Match

{10}

Warning: sensitive topics raised in this chapter

Nate

"Come on Chase. The sooner we go to your house the sooner this shit with Coach Ray is over with."

"You can't come to my house." Chase says for about the 11th time. It's our free period and I'm trying to convince Chase to do the one last thing that Coach demands of us.

"Why?"

"Because."

"That's not a good enough excuse." I say sternly. "Coach said we need to get to know each other. Once we do this we're done. We can actually play during practice and not have to throw bloody water balloons at each other. Come on man don't you want that?"

"Alright, alright you can come to mine after school. Just quit whining and meet me at the gates at the end of last period." I smile at my little triumph but a look of worry is plastered on Chase's face.

"Don't worry I'm not going to trash your house or anything." I say.

"It's not that." He states and walks away to his friends sitting at the bench.

*

Chase is hesitant to open his front door. He pushes it very slowly, almost like he's trying not to trip an alarm.

Wait a minute. Is this not his house? Are we breaking into someone else's house?!

"Oi, this is your house right?" I whisper.

"Yes it is." He replies, rolling his eyes and finally walking in. Immediately, I get hit with the smell.

Yeah some of my friends smoke but I've never smelt weed this strong. It's almost like it has fused into the furniture and into the walls, like the air is permanently stained with the stench.

I try my hardest not to scrunch my face in disgust. I don't want to seem rude. As I look around I see a man sitting on the sofa in the living room with a full glass in his hands.

Chase

He isn't supposed to be here. It's Wednesday, he's usually out with his mates. He isn't supposed to be here.

Nate

"Hey Chasey." He says with a smirk on his dry lips. "You didn't tell me your mate was coming over. I've never met one of your mates before." He stands and staggers towards us.

"I'm Nate." I would offer a handshake but it seems as though his hands are preoccupied.

"I'm Derek. Chase's older brother." He wraps his arm around the shoulders of an angry looking Chase.

"Get the fuck off me Derek." He harshly nudges his brother's arm off of his shoulder and as Derek is taken off guard, he drops the glass of alcohol.

"Oi watch it you little runt." Derek retorts. "What have I said about you watching your fucking mouth when you talk to me?! Huh! What have I fucking said?!" I take in the scene shocked that one broken glass can cause such an aggressive reaction from the older guy. His speech is slurred due to the alcohol but he's able to grab Chase's shirt with too much force. He raises his fist and I fear he's going to hit him. Then I look at Chase and see he's got his eyes screwed up, anticipating the punch. He's not stopping him. He's not fighting back. He's letting him do it.

As Derek drives his fist closer to Chase's face, I am suddenly so filled with anger and panic that I push Derek away before he can land a punch, perhaps with a little too much force as well. He falls to the floor.