The Fallen |BxB| ✓

04 | Two Sides

↞[Ken]↠

Through the glass panes, screening one full side of the cafeteria, I saw rusty and gold leaves barely covering the baren branches of trees, the soft glow of sunlight, occasionally hindered with floating clouds, seeped through the spaces.

The area being open to the ground outside made the place look spacious even with the lunch-hour rush. I had shared my full timetable with Emily while Luke and Isabella left after attending English with us. Those forty-five-minutes, I could hardly breathe with the boy beside me, though he had been adrift from the class. Except for the few times, he got lost between the words being read by the teacher and poked my arm for help. Otherwise, asleep with his head drooped, brunette locks casting soft streaks of shadow over his sharp features.

Needless to mention, I did not attend the English class. I'm sure I'll fail the language exam if this happened every day.

"You gotta talk to Brandon about joining the team." Emily pointed with her chin towards a table, filled with a bunch of dudes wearing the same colored jersey with their number tags, and a single girl sitting amongst them—same attire. "They know when the practices happen, and if they need any members," Emily continued, balancing her food tray with both her hands. "I have to eat with my band-mates. Join us after you're done!" She smiled before leaving me alone.

"See ya 'round," I mumbled when her back turned to me.

Maneuvering past the crowd of girls, I assumed cheerleaders, talking in obnoxiously loud volume, some of them sitting on the table with skirts pulled way above their thighs. Reverting my gaze, I walked to the bench with guys engaged in a heated conversation.

Unable to find an opening, I tried clearing my throat and mumbled out a "hey," but they ignored me and continued talking.

"Convince the coach to increase practice hours. We're going nowhere!" complained the guy with the military haircut, a clear accent wrapping anger.

"I'm failing algebra, so the old-ass won't listen to me," the guy with ineptly bleached hair responded, looking extremely bored. Brandon. The team captain. Emily had told me how short-tempered the guy was, and infamous for starting fights.

"What about the short forward? Calum broke his freaking leg," said the only girl in the group.

"Um, guys?" I began again, but they overlapped me quickly.

"And we talked already. I will be the short forward." Brandon fumed at them.

"Who the hell said that?" There was a sharp hostility in the other guy's voice.

"You're the point guard. You can't have two positions at once," the girl argued back, a hand resting her forehead, but Brandon ignored her and continued to argue with the other guy.

"What options do we have, huh? Why don't you come up with something, Michael." Brandon stood up and prodded a finger at Michael's chest.

"You—" Michael's voice dropping to a snarl, but I cut him off.