From The Other Side

19. stand

NINETEEN
stand

Wednesday, April 2nd

Isaiah had no idea where he and August stood.

He hadn't even been able to talk to August since Monday. He barely answered his texts, and Isaiah never saw him during school. Especially at lunch; it was like he just disappeared. He asked Morgan, but she told him that it was nothing personal (Isaiah couldn't quite tell if she knew or not).

Isaiah found that hard to believe.

He was stressed and very much concerned, which wasn't a good combination when it came to playing a sport. He ended up dropping the ball Steve threw his way one too many times, and he wanted to slap himself. Stop thinking. Focus.

When the ball slipped from his glove once again, Steve sighed and made his way over, a deep frown settled on his lips. "What's up with you?" he asked quietly, placing the back of his hand flat against Isaiah's forehead. "You're not sick. Sorry for being blunt, but you're shit today. And we have a game."

Isaiah lightly shoved at his hand and shrugged. "Guess today isn't my day."

Steve scowled. "That is such a fucking understatement that I can't even believe you. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Steve grabbed his arm and pulled on it gently, just enough to tell him that he wasn't getting out of this. "Just tell me," he whispered, and Isaiah blinked, momentarily stunned. "Dude, you've been acting weird for weeks. And at first I thought it was because of Marcus, but now I'm not so sure. We're worried about you."

"I can't."

"Do you not trust me?" Steve asked, brows furrowing. He looked genuinely hurt.

"No, no, I do," Isaiah quickly said, shaking his head. "I do. I just... I can't say it. Okay? It's hard. If anything, I don't trust myself."

                   Steve nodded slowly and took a step back. "Okay," he said. He ran a hand through his short hair, huffing, looking around at the other players on the field before his eyes landed back on Isaiah. He dropped his hand to his side. "Okay. Just... whenever you're ready, I'm here, alright?"

                   Isaiah cracked a small smile. "Alright."

                    Steve shoved his shoulder and hit him in the chest with his glove. "Now get your head in the game, loser."

                      "This isn't basketball. Or High School Musical."

                        "Fuck off. What I said still stands."

                        "Alright, Troy Bolton."

                        Steve rolled his eyes.

___

Isaiah couldn't get his head in the game.

                      It was nearly impossible to when all he could think about was August. If he was okay, why it felt like he was ignoring him, and so much more. He zoned out at bat and missed a perfect pitch that he could've sent flying, but instead he got his second strike. One more and he was out.