The Little Things [Book 1]

Chapter Twenty-Three: Captain

"Heissmann!" Coach's voice echoed throughout the field and Thomas stopped dead in his tracks. "The Hell is going on?!"

Thomas cursed himself, not needing Coach's note to realize the way he played was shit. For once he had no control over the ball; he had not even gotten a chance to shoot. He chased after Beck, for the fourth time during this practice, but Christian managed to outsmart him and went to shoot.

The ball flew to the left corner and Dean jumped, but he couldn't stop it. Thomas stopped running and looked at Dean in question. How had Christian...? That question went unanswered because as soon as Christian stopped celebrating his own goal, he turned and smiled at Thomas with all the pride in the world. At this point, Thomas was furious.

He didn't even know who he was angry with. He was definitely pissed at Christian and his superiority act. He was pissed at Dean, for not catching that ball. And he was angry with Coach for always berating him about not being concentrated enough. And he was sure he was pissed at himself for getting so caught up with Mark that he couldn't even focus on his own goddamn life.

Maybe he didn't care about teamwork for the rest of the match. Maybe he was just being unfair. He didn't care. It had turned into a one-man show. He was there for almost every pass, stealing the ball from even his own teammates. He slipped through his opponent with every chance he got. All just so he could put in the equalizer. He would be damned if this "game" ended up with Beck scoring once and winning. Christian would never beat him.

The whole ordeal didn't last for more than five minutes. That's how long it took him to be able to make a clear shot. Bob didn't even have a chance to block the fiery ball, it hitting the net and bouncing out immediately. After a quick celebration, the two teams were about to start playing again, when they all heard Coach's whistle blow.

"Boys, you seem tired. Let's call it a day and we'll resume training tomorrow, okay?" he told them, but as they all started to head toward the changing room, Coach stopped Thomas. "What was that today?" Thomas found it weird that Coach didn't sound angry, but the disappointment in the older man's voice crushed him.

"I'm sorry, I don't know..."

"Bullshit Thomas, you know that something is up. You've been out of it this whole season, and while we are still scoring in each match, having your last year in high school not be your best won't look good for your future. Look I won't pressure you into telling me what is up. But you need to talk to somebody, even if it's just another friend," Coach said. "Do if for your own wellbeing".

"I will Coach," Thomas muttered and walked off.

As Coach talked to him he had calmed down a bit, but his sour mood came back with vengeance as soon as he entered the changing room. Beck was bragging about his accomplishment. Scoring against Williamson. Very few had managed to own that title, most only being able to do it once or twice. Thomas scoffed at Christian. Big deal, I do it all the time, he wanted to say, but he didn't.

"Hey, Heissmann!" Beck yelled out and approached Thomas at his locker. He was forced to muffle a grunt, and without turning to Christian he opened his locker and started getting ready to shower. "Did you see how I scored?"

"Yes, Christian I saw how you fucking scored. Fucking congrats," Thomas snapped and started heading toward the showers.

"Wow! Hey, you don't have to get aggressive! I was only trying to see if you liked it," Christian immediately replied, raising his hands in a sign of surrender.

"Why do you even fucking care?"

"You're Thomas Heissmann". The way he pronounced his name made it sound as if he was speaking of a deity. It brought chills down Thomas's spine. He didn't like it. "You're a goddamn legend. And next season I'm going to have to fill your shoes. I just wanted to know what you thought of it".

"You're doing okay," Thomas muttered, too much in shock to say anything else.

After he was done with his shower and he got out of the changing room, he saw that Dean hadn't left just yet. He was resting against his car and nodded at Thomas once he got out.

"Wanna ride?" he asked him, and silently Thomas accepted the offer. Once they were both inside, Dean took a moment in thought, but without saying whatever he was actually thinking, he started driving. "Are you going to come to Rachel's tomorrow?"

"For Valentine's Day? She's going to do it again?"

Rachel had an annual Valentine's celebration. Her parents always went out to fancy dinners and operas and theatres, so they were gone till late in the night. And because Rachel hadn't had anyone to celebrate the day with, she invited her friends over to her enormous house to have some fun. They put on some music, maybe a movie or two, lit a few candles, danced and partied it up. It was always pretty nice and cozy.

"Yeah, I'm going but I figured you wouldn't... since now you're with Julie..."

"I wasn't going to. But the party is still on and Julie wanted to come. Besides, it's not as if one day to ourselves cannot be shared with our friends," Dean explained. "So, what do you think about Julie?"

What did he think about Julie? That was an excellent question Thomas hadn't asked himself yet. He guessed he liked her. She was really nice and kind. And she had a warm smile that begged you for your secrets. But at the same time, she was smart and cunning.

"She's really nice. I like her," Thomas simply said.

Thankfully, the rest of the ride was quiet. Dean hadn't tried to initiate another conversation, probably because he could tell Thomas was tired. He had not even looked at Dean. He just sat there, looking out the window with a skeptical expression and baggy eyes. When Dean parked, Thomas got ready to get out, but Dean stopped him.

"I can't stop thinking about it," Dean muttered, not eyeing Thomas.

"What-"

"It has been on repeat ever since yesterday. I keep hearing him cry and sob and yell. I know I keep saying that Mark is not our friend just yet, but seeing him go through a panic attack. It has filled me up with shock". The rawness of his tone made Thomas tremble.

He hadn't realized he wasn't the only one affected. Since he had grown closer to Mark -closer than the rest of his friends at least-, he had figured that only he had been affected. The fact that Mark had gone radio silent for more than just the next twenty four hours had also filled Thomas with worry. How was he doing?

"I think I caused it," Thomas revealed.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, pulling back just an inch.

"He got that expression when I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him down. That look of fear. And when I mentioned it to Sam she seemed to make some sort of link. I don't know, she told me it wasn't my fault... but-"

"But you still think it is..." Dean finished for him.

"Yeah... yeah, I still think it is".