The Little Things [Book 1]

Chapter Fifty-Four: Final Whistle

"I'm fine," Mark pressed, throwing a punch at the punching mitt that Reese was holding up.

"Uh-huh..." Reese hummed, raising the other mitt. "It's been five weeks. You don't have to be okay yet," he said when the next punch came.

"But I am," Mark started with a grunt. "I still think it was stupid... but..."

"There's no –" Reese's sentence was cut short by a hard punch. "Wanting to break up is not stupid". Mark glared at him.

"Yes, it's not. Wanting to break up because you think the person you love is a distraction is," he said.

"That's not why he broke up with you".

"Oh really?" Mark said and threw another punch. "Then why did he break up with me?"

"He didn't want to drag you into that mess," Reese said with a raised eyebrow.

"What mess?"

"The mess of the fucking soccer universe. The fans there... they are crazy. There was no way you two could have been dating without someone finding out. Thomas chose to follow his career and keep you away from that clusterfuck," Reese replied.

"I didn't ask him to keep me away from it..."

"Of course, you didn't. Of course, you wouldn't. Mark, if he hadn't broken up with you, you would have convinced him that you could make it," Reese said.

"We could have made it," Mark muttered.

"No. It would have come to you two keeping so many secrets that it would have ruined you. Or someone would eventually find out about you and the media and the fans would have ruined it for you".

Mark shook his head, disagreeing with his friend, but he decided not to say anything. Instead, he kept on practicing his punches. Their relationship didn't have to be doomed. Thomas didn't have to break up with him.

"I kinda get it," Reese said at some point, causing Mark to look up at him with a frown. "If you told me that I could either keep on dating Angela or keep on fighting... I would choose the fighting".

"But you –" Mark started, but Reese cut him off while putting down both punching mitts.

"Don't get me wrong. I love her. I love Angela. I would do anything, give up everything for her... but there's nothing else in the world that gives me the satisfaction I feel when I'm in the ring. And whether I like saying it or not, she's a high school girlfriend..." he shrugged and shook his head –"and most times these relationships don't last. I wouldn't risk ruining my future for her either".

"Yeah, but it's not the same. The only reason why you'd have to choose between her and fighting would be because she made you choose. The reason why Thomas chose soccer over me is homophobia," Mark said. He nudged one punching mitt with his foot ready to start training again.

Reese picked them up again and put them on. They stayed quiet for the rest of the "session", only stopping for Reese to put the mitts down and take a punching shield. About two hours later, the back door to Mark's house opened and Marigold poked her head out.

"You boys still training?" she asked.

"We were about to stop..." Mark told her. "Why?"

There was regret in her features and she opened the door a little bit more. Behind her stood Thomas looking reluctant. Mark took half a step back and noticing this, Reese straightened up and tossed the shield down. Without a word, Marigold decided to leave them and Thomas walked outside to the back yard.

While he had been to Mark's house many times, so far he hadn't been to the back yard. Mark had said that his mother didn't allow them to go out until she was done with it. Now Thomas could only look in awe. Thick grass covered the whole area and rose bushes decorated the edges of it. There were a few small citrus trees planted around and in the middle stood a white wooden pavilion with wisterias covering half of it.

"What do you want?" Reese snapped at him, seeing as neither Mark nor Thomas was about to say anything. Thomas's attention was pulled to him and he cleared his throat.

"I took the offer. And I'm moving away..." he started and reached for something from his back. Before Reese or Mark could say anything to him, he pulled out from his back pocket a folded piece of paper and a pen. "And I need you to sign this," he went on and handed Mark the paper.

He took it reluctantly and after unfolding it he read it over.

"What is this?" he finally asked a few moments later.

"It's a confidentiality agreement. It basically says that you cannot claim that I'm gay or that we were in a relationship..."

"Claim," Mark muttered.

"If you do, I can sue you for slander," Thomas finished. Mark's head snapped up and his eyes met Thomas's for the first time.

"Slander?" Mark scoffed. "Oh, yes, right because being gay is a bad thing".

"If it can ruin your career, yes it is," Thomas replied.

Mark shed him a pointed look, but instead of saying anything, he took the pen from Thomas's hand. He signed the piece of paper and handed both things back to Thomas.

"Is that all?" he asked with a sharp tone.

"Actually..." Thomas started, "I need any photographic evidence of us that you might have... any pictures of me," he paused and then quickly added, "and you can't use any of my pictures in your portfolio."

"Are you being serious?" Mark snapped, but when Thomas remained silent he sighed and walked past him. "Come on".

Thomas followed Mark up to his room, Reese being a few steps behind them. It had only been a few weeks but everything felt so different. The whole house felt unwelcoming. It felt wrong being here. He hadn't wanted to actually do this. He hadn't wanted to actually ask this of Mark.

But Thomas said nothing. He waited for Mark to move a few files from his hard drive to a flash drive and when he was done he coldly handed it to Thomas. They stared at each other for a moment and Thomas was the first one to look away. His eyes fell on the empty space on Mark's picture-covered walls.

"What happened to those?" he asked, seeing how all of the photos of his that Mark had put up there were gone.

"They are where they belong," Mark said, drawing Thomas's attention to himself. His amber eyes slowly moved and stopped on Mark's clouded gray ones. "In the trash".

Thomas bit his lip and lowered his gaze. He had to leave. Clearly, there was nothing else for him here. He nodded and turned around. On the way out, he glanced at Reese who was shooting daggers at him the whole time. He's just being a good friend.

After Mark heard the front door shut close he let out a heavy breath and went to sit on his bed. He covered his eyes with his palms and gave out a twisted laugh.

"I lied..."

"About what?" Reese softly asked him.

Mark moved and opened the drawer to his bedside table. Without looking up at him, he pulled out a photograph and showed it to Reese. It was a picture of Thomas in the garage on the bed of the truck with a huge grin. The photograph emanated happiness. Reese looked at his friend and clicked his tongue.

"At least, it's over now. That was the end of your story..."

Mark shook his head and he looked up at Reese with tears in his eyes.

"I don't want this to be the end."