My mom always said I had problems like my dad. Even when I was younger she would comment on how it scared her. She was worried I'd end up doing something stupid. She always told me I was just like my dad the way I could be impulsive and was so quick to tears. I hated it, I still do. The way my emotions just seemed to build inside me until I exploded into panic attacks, tears and bad decisions. Or episodes were I didn't speak to mom or anyone for a week and couldn't get off the couch. I hated the way it made me feel empty like it had taken something from me; part of me I could never get back. But I hadn't felt like this in a long time, this powerless.
Lately I had just felt hollow, like nothing at all and maybe that was better because then at least I didn't have to feel like him. My dad left my mom when she got pregnant with me. But I knew enough from the story's and the pain mom had shown me in her eyes, her voice when talking about him to know just the type of person he was. I didn't want to be anything like that. I needed to try and clear my mind, just focus on drawing, the wind. Just focus on this moment. The feeling of the floor underneath me. The feeling of the pencil in my hand. The-
"Hey, who's the kid," the quiet didn't last long, a voice broke me out of my trance maybe half an hour later. Looking down I easily spot Drew with a group of kids, three guys our age and a girl with choppy short brown hair. They've all stopped and are looking staring back at me. I suddenly feel like an animal in a zoo enclosure, just being observed and picked apart. I could feel their judgment from here.
"My dad's mistresses kid, he just moved in," Drew spat his words with so much venom.
"Great, why doesn't he play?!" the girl spoke so nonchalantly like this was the simplest idea ever. Like she honestly didn't care who I was. Like this was nothing. It wasn't, and whatever they were up to I wanted no part. I just want to be alone.
"What, no way!" Thank god.
"Why not, if he plays we have even numbers for a game and we never have even numbers." This girl REALLY didn't seem to mind who I was or what I wanted. Her mind was on there game and I didn't like it.
"Come on dude, its not that big of a deal. It's not like he had anything to do with what happened and it's just one game." One of the other guys throws in. Oh, lovely.
"Ok fine whatever, but fuck you guys. Max, come play a round with us. Get down here!" Drew seems livid and like he wanted me to say no. Which was fine because I was going to.
"Um, don't I get a say because,"
"No, you don't." Another one of the boys shoots up at me also seeming irritated by the whole exchange but smirking widely. Why are you forcing me into this if you don't really want me there? "Where extending an olive branch to you now so I suggest you take it while it's here." Right, not a threat at all. Try to make friends Max, not enemies. Just one game, maybe.. no it just wouldn't work.
"I'm," then again, you need to be trying for mom, remember that? Things needed to be better here, for both of us. Standing up, I turn back around to head downstairs and meet them, placing my notebook on the bed I head down to the back yard.
"Great now that he's here, witch one of you wants him on your team because I'm not playing with him on mine," Drew points at me like I'm going to give him an infection and they all still continue to talk around me like I'm not really here. This was stupid, I should just go back up stairs where its safe from these people and there opinions of me.
"Do you know how to play?" One of the boy's I still don't know the name of says holding up a soccer ball. Was he serious right now?
"Are you seriously asking me if I know how to play soccer? OK I'm not on his team." I cross my arms over themselves looking at the rest of the group. The girl besides me snickers and I look over at her expecting her to say something. No one does. So I turn away from her and look over the whole group again just to see that I've gotten my point across. It took years of working at it but I had a pretty good hold on my emotions around rich assholes. Save face. Hold in your opinions. Be polite and agreeable. Then curse them out as soon as your shifts over with your coworkers. However part of me today was just done. Did I know how to play soccer, god what a dick. When still no one made a move to comment or invite me on there team, including the girl, I figured I could go and started to make my way back towards the glass doors. I didn't need this, even if it would be fun to kick some rich guys butt and watch his face fall.
"Wait!! New guy, you can be on my team." The girl from before calls out from behind me stopping me in my spot.
"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" Drew already seems like the type to tell you exactly what he's think no matter what it is or how you'll feel about it; and this girl already seemed like trouble because she didn't seem to care what he thought. Beautiful, she was beautiful trouble. Shit.
"Ok." Here I go getting myself into trouble already. I don't even know why, maybe because it would make Drew mad or maybe because she really did have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen and they were staring right back at me. But I guess I was going to play.
"Great, you better not suck then! Now who else wants to join the winners!" She says it with so much confidence turning to face them again with her back to me. I wasn't paying attention, I was still think about the way the green in her eyes lit up when she smiled and the freckles that painted her cheeks. I could feel mine starting to tint red and willed them to stop before someone noticed. Nope. This was not going to become a thing.
Eventually another guy agreed and the two of them started to make a game plan leaving me completely out of it as I tried to catch up with there words while they went back and forth like I didn't exist. Which was kind of fine for once because now I was honestly just excited to play, watch there faces fall, and get this all over with. I hadn't played soccer in years and when I'd played before it had been in the back ally behind the apartments with a bunch of kids and a beat up ball one of them had stolen from working the late shift at the strip mall. But if I knew one thing for sure it was that I had always been good at it. Like really good. I'll never forget some guy seeing us playing once and coming over to give me his card. Mom said it was just a scam. I was supposed to throw it out. Part of me knew she was right, but even though I never called I still kept it. I liked the idea of having some fancy guy think I was good at Something. Lucas used to tease me for caring it around in my wallet all the time. So even with me being a little rusty and not playing for years, I positive... well almost positive, I could be done with this and back in the house to my own space in no time.
YOU ARE READING
It Doesn't Even Matter
Teen FictionMax is struggling, plain and simple. After dropping out of school two years ago to help his mom with the bills and losing his best friend, he's just kind of shut things out. His life has been in pure survival mode. Work, pay bills, survive. But thin...