shine brighter

yksi

.•*•.tjs pov.•*•.
it was when i started vigorously sweating when i figure it was time to head home and wait until tomorrow to practice my free throws and lay ups. amber constantly nags me about how i overwork myself and informs me on the dangers of what that can do to a person. am i nervous i'm going to strain every muscle in my body? no, but amber is. and since amber is a year older - i can't complain. she always seems to have an "i am older therefore you can't tell me anything" card on her.
i walked on the side walk, dribbling my ball before picking it up to set it under my arm. in the distance, i heard sniffling and heavy breathing. generally, i wouldn't have paid much mind to it. however, nowadays im trying to be more kind and helpful. i walk over to the swingsets, and to my suprise, it isn't a middle schooler or some other kid i didn't know existed. it was cyrus. cyrus goodman.
to grasp how i felt in this moment, my former crush i let die down simply because i thought he was straight, just for him to come out in the next following weeks, is in front of me. crying, for all i know hurt, and possibly in need of some comfort.
"hey.", i said, shyly. i was kind of disappointed in how shy i came off, but i didn't want to intimidate him. i didn't want to be old tj. to him, or anyone else.
he looked up, his under eyes were slightly red and he looked visibly drained. my heart hurt seeing this, not just because there at one point was insanely strong feelings there, but because he looks so, so upset.
"hey.", he answered, before looking back at the woodchips he had been kicking at as he calmed down. the greeting felt unsure, as if he were still intimidated.
"are you okay?", i asked as i sat in the empty swing next to him, adjusting my basketball to be sitting on my thighs.
"quick answer? no.", he said lowly.
"could i get a long answer for 200?", i asked. i wanted to make him feel comfortable, so i attempted to be lighthearted in the way i phrased it so it didn't seem probative. i'll say i did a good job, as i saw the corners of his lips curl upward.
"i just...always like people who won't like me back,", he exhaled, "and no matter how much i know they will never like me back - i force myself to find the littlest reasons to hang on and dream of a world where they do like me."
"yeah, i get that.", i said looking at the basketball in my lap. he probably assumed i was just relating to the circumstances, but the whole situation was all too familiar. he always seemed to good for me. i never tried being his friend, simply because pining from afar was easier than letting him in and falling harder.
"sorry for spilling like that, you probably don't care about my obsession with falling for unattainable straight men.", he laughed as he looked out.
"it's completely fine.", i chuckled, "problems are problems."
"tell that to my parents.", he began, "my problems are their problems and i endlessly sit in a perpetual safe space that is only safe because they're therapists."
"that isn't that bad though, right?", i questioned. my parents always made me feel safe, and i liked it.
"i like how open they want me to be, but sometimes it just feels invasive and suffocating.", he replied truthfully.
"i can see how that could be.", i told him. when he puts it that way, i see where he's coming from.
"i have to go, but could i have your number?", he said holding out his phone. my former crush just opened up to me and wants my phone number. twist my wrist.
"sure.", i smiled. i grabbed the phone and added myself as a contact.
"text you later.", he said as he took the phone and stood up. "thanks for being here for me."
"no problem. i'll be waiting.", i laughed.
he laughed before we headed in different directions, so much for a former crush.
my face went pink as i thought about what had just happened, i then turned around and looked back as he continued walking home. cyrus goodman, you've done it again.

[this chapter was hella short but yall get the gist of whats goin on.]