Alleyway BxB

XIV (Go For It)

FRIDAY, 5 OCTOBER
NATHAN COVINGTON

The very moment we set foot into the main building, the eyes of every student in the immediate area snapped to our direction.

"This is so embarrassing," I muttered as I crossed my arms tighter against myself. The black eye and split lip hadn't quite faded yet, so I kept my head down. Why doesn't this damn jacket have a hood?

I had broken orders. Matt and I had practically been put on house arrest, but I would have hated to miss the Stockton game, especially with Cameron at the head of the pack. It wasn't all too bad; at least I had a bodyguard.

His arm casually draped itself around my shoulders and pulled me into the solid body that walked so confidently alongside me. "It isn't that bad. It's a game night and their prize player looks like he got thrown off a building. I'm sure it's a big deal."

The crowd split as if I was the modern age Moses, whispers instead of crashing waves--everyone stepped aside when we came close enough. It was the most power I ever felt I had. The swelling around my eye had calmed down significantly but the deep shades of red and purple stuck right out of my light complexion. I never had or attained the appeal of being the centre of attention. Too many eyes, too many people. They judged me, tried to read me. But I always wondered; I wasn't out to the public, not yet anyway. Did anyone know? Other than the group at the house, did the boys other than Ryder and Cameron know?

The team was sat around in the end zone--coach sternly stood in front them and I guessed that it was another one of his lectures. Their attention was quick to divide. Instead, everyone looked at me. I moved as quickly as my contusions allowed me to--probably half my usual walking speed.

The coach threw his water bottle to the floor and squeezed the bridge of his nose, made a hand motion that waved us over like he wanted me to get there quicker. And I sped up, ignored the rising pain and the concerned Marcello that tailed behind me. "Christ, Covington. What happened to you? Another black eye?"

Too much to even say.

I regained my balance on my feet, kept as little pressure as I could on my left leg. "I can't play the game tonight."

"Tell me something I don't know." The coach sighed, moved closer to analyze me. "How long are we talking here? Run me through everything."

I took in a sharp breath and stripped off my jacket to reveal the bruises on my forearms. A quick pull at the bottom of my shirt and everything was on display, except for the bruising on my left thigh.

There was a collective grimace from the boys on the grass. That was my reaction on the first day, but I had healed a fair bit since then. I actually thought I looked really good for the short amount of time I'd been gone. "It actually isn't as bad as it looks. Doctors said it would take a minimum of two weeks. No matter what, I'll be back for at least the Beaumont game. Cam can take over for me in the meantime."

"You're not going to say how you got all of that?"

I shook my head. "I'd rather not, no." I glanced over at the boys, and four of them stared back in disappointment. I had been on a schedule with Ryder, Jaxon, and Carter's families and could only sleep over for so long before they started questioned why I never went home, and I had to tell them the truth. Ryder's mother was so concerned in the beginning, she thought I was homeless. After about a month, I had told them about my parental situation and immediately, I was a part of all their families.

~~~

I cheered as I watched on. I would run over onto the field if I I wasn't clamped to the bench by Marcello's discreet hand.