Twisted Connections

Fred

Fred knew that today was going to go bad. It started when his dad woke him by yelling and banging on his door, screaming curses at his son's laziness. Fred didn't care. Fred didn't care about much these days. His mom had mouthed an "I'm sorry" at him as she crept down the stairs to find her husband, but Fred didn't care about that either. He had heard it before. Fred's dad was to most of his friends, Coach Mason. Even to Fred himself, the word "dad" didn't really reflect their relationship at all, and his father was more his coach than anything. Six days a week Fred and his dad would go on runs together, his coach pushing him harder until he felt close to vomiting, and then kicking him in the stomach till he got up and ran further. After school each day, Coach Mason would take him through strategies, how to tackle, and if Fred slacked in practice...Grudgingly, Fred couldn't quit soccer. Not only because Fred couldn't come home if he did, but also because soccer was his only way at getting a scholarship. And a scholarship was his only way at leaving home. His legs were shaking after their run, but Fred still managed to go and tackle his little brother as he came down the stairs, watching his eyes light up with delight as he messed up his blond tufts of hair. Fred considered the fact that his closest friend was probably his brother, and let the guilt in his stomach harden as he knew that this was all his own fault.

Two years ago, Fred had a cool girlfriend, and a great best friend. Jase Rivera was his neighbor, and him and Fred had been inseparable. Jase knew about Fred's dad, he was even on the soccer team with Fred, but Fred had pushed Jase away. Why? Because his friend had been great at soccer, and Fred had been freaking jealous. To come home to his dad wishing Jase was his son, to losing his place as captain to Jase, to losing his life to Jase. They weren't reasons really, they were excuses. But Fred had cut Jase out of his life, and now...Fred let the hot water of the shower undo the knots in his back and wash over his aching muscles. Now, Fred had friends. He was captain of the soccer team, he had Roland, he smoked, he was in a good place. But did Roland get him? No. Did soccer make him happy? No. Was Fred gonna do anything about it? Definitely not.

Fred saw Jase in the back of some guy's car, the flash of paper that was exchanged. He knew he was naive to think that it was paper, and sure enough, he saw Mike's hands shift a small packet of pills into his varsity soccer jacket. Mike shouldn't be doing pills, Jase shouldn't be dealing. Fred was too tired to deal with either of those facts. He parked his motorbike and then strolled over to Roland, spinning the helmet between his fingers. "Hey man."

Roland looked up and cracked a smile, punching Fred's arm. "Dude! It's been time since we've seen each other man! How was summer?"

Fred thought, crap. He'd been doing workouts, taking shifts at his Dad's sports store, coaching other kids to be like him. Like they wanted his life. "It was fine. You?" Roland smile deepened and he leaned in to whisper in Fred's ear. "Fire, man. Literally fire."

Fred looked up into the eyes of his best friend. He was grinning, his eyes dancing with mischevious knowledge. "Three girls, one beach, a couple of shots of vodka..." Roland chuckled, leading his way the crowds of people to their lockers.

"I thought you were seeing Adley." His voice sounded accusatory, and Roland gave him the side eye. "Yeah, I am. But summer's just summer man. Better have some fun before your dad literally kills us at tryouts." Tryouts.

"Geez, I'd forgotten about that." Unlikely Fred thought even as he said the words. His dad had been preparing him for tryouts all summer. Roland chuckled and slapped Fred on the arm, as Adley came towards them. Immediately Roland was distracted, and Fred thought what the hell, it wasn't like he was going to tell Roland about his dad anyway.

He saw Tessa behind Adley. The guilt in his stomach dropped like a stone. She was slimmer than ever, her hair tied up so the nape of her neck was exposed. Fred thought about the times when he had kissed that neck. He smiled at her, letting his eyes sink deeper into her dark brown ones. Tess understood him, she had even loved him. Then she had broken up with him. And Fred could understand why.

Tessa's eyes locked with his and her smile stopped, sliding off her face. She stared for a second, twisting around almost mechanically as she walked off to her lockers. Fred deserved it. Fred deserved it all. He was almost about to follow her when a hard body crashed into his, pushing him into Roland's back. It was that Clara girl, or was it Cara? Head banger. She gave him the side eye, and then flipped him off. No, not him, Adley. That would make sense, Roland had been the guy after all to...

"Do you have a problem?" She was speaking to him. Crap, Fred was out of it. He guess he must have been staring. "No problem." He said, pushing past her into English Lit. He found his seat immediately, in front of Roland, and pretended not to watch as Tessa walked in late, her eyes darting across the room. Dino, their ancient teacher, sat her next to Jase, and Fred tried to smile at her again as she went to sit at the back, but she barely looked at him.

"Hey." He mouthed, watching as she gave a small smile back. That was Tessa, he thought, forgiving even him. She turned her head away from him, turning to face Jase. Jase and Tessa. Two of the people he probably needed the most. They ignored him. Dino started talking about some essay, and he caught Tessa's eye again, "wanna pair up?" She had always been good at English Lit; he remembered days in the summer where she had layn her head on his stomach and read to him, her voice sometimes switching to French to see if he was listening. He watched her turn instead to talk to Jase again.

Class dismissed, Roland left to get changed to tryouts. Fred started to follow him, but felt a firm hand on his arm. "Fred, stay back a second. And you Cara." The class shuffled out of the sun-drenched room, leaving behind the two remaining pupils.

"Fred, your work last year was below average, and to put it mildly, you need to pay more attention to your essay work in particular. I've arranged for you to have a tutor. Miss Turner," he gestured to Cara, "is excelling in her literature work, and could easily bring you up to where you should be." Fred felt the heat of humiliation rise to his cheeks. He didn't need head banger to help him. Sure, he had missed a couple of essays to do some soccer practice, but he wasn't failing. He'd be fine.

"Dino, I mean Mr Dianopolis," Fred started to protest. The teacher cut him off. "Fred, it's this or we cut your extra-curriculars." Cut soccer? No way. His scholarship, his dad! "Sure, fine."

Cara barely looked at him as they left the room. Startlingly fast she turned to face him, pushing her fingers against his chest. "I don't feel like doing this either okay? We meet Thursdays after school. Be there, because I can only do this for a couple of months alright." 

Fred pushed her fingers off his chest. "Fine," he sighed. It wasn't like he needed to extra pressure anyway.