Day .02-1 (cont.)

"You have got to be kidding me."

It's Kyle who turns and gives me a confused grin, wiping sweat from his forehead

with a basketball jersey on. Stupid number 10 stares at me with dissipation, my

matching black, white, and orange jersey feeling too smug on my cool skin. I've

always used the number 33, so the only thing to not surprise me was that I'm wearing the number 33 on my uniform, and that I'm team captain.

And point guard.

"Blood hell-." I mutter, ready to throw a basketball at my own face.

"You seem out of it," Kyle nudges my shoulder, his green eyes shining under the

court's bright lights, "everything good?"

"I haven't picked up a basketball ball since elementary," I shake my head, "how

the hell did I end here?"

"That's not true," Kyle shakes his head. "you're playing it now, aren't you?"

"Yea…but-but I -I wanted to play on a team when I was like 7…and then soccer was another short-lived dream, but them football stuck after that-."

I cut myself off, suddenly interested in my hands, calloused and wrinkled, rough

from sports and labor, and I suddenly saw the connections. The sports, the

things I 'wanted' to do, I was somehow living them out.

"Hey man, you spaced out again…" Kyle looks to me, worried this time. "Are you

really good?"

"No," I said in a honest mindset and calm tone, I shakily let a breath out, "I mean…I'm not sure."

"Do you need to sit this one out?" A large hand meets my shoulder, and then

Sebastian—alive Sebastian—peers down at me, sharing the same worried look

Kyles' wearing, but this time Kyle isn't looking worried anymore, but very, very anger.

"Oh…sorry." Sebastian shrugs, sheepishly backs away, "you looked kind of lost…wanted to make sure your good, Captain."

"Captain?" And then I notice he's looking at me, and that his jersey, the same matching colors with the number 12 on it. "Guess you moved up in rank this time."

"Pardon?" He asked.

I shake my head, but my eyes don't leave the large numbers on Sebastian's jersey.

"Nothing don't mind it. What's on the menu today?" I turn my head, giving Kyle my

attention.

"Just the usual sprints, lay ups, scrimmages, defense coverage." Kyle doesn't take

his eyes off Sebastian, and Sebastian doesn't take his eyes off me. "Usual

bullshit since coach's busy flirting with the schools nurse-."

"He's doing what?" I asked. Kyle shrugs, Sebastian shuffles his feet.

"Maybe you haven't heard-," I haven't. "But some guys saw coach talking up the nurse.

You know, the guy just got divorce and he's already trying to get another lady hitched. The nerve. You know, I waited for the nurse for

like 40 minutes today? Now it makes sense why she wasn't there. She was chasing

dic-."

"The nurse? Is everything okay?" Kyle nods, waving me off.

"Jessi hurt her hands—must have been at gym or something—but I was waiting for the

nurse to look at her." He said.

"Is she okay?" I asked, "I should text her-."

"I advise you to give her a minute," Kyle laughs, patting my shoulder, "she seems

to be in a pissy mood lately. Probably that time, you know?"

I nod, skeptical, "Alright…I guess we should get started, then."

Kyle grins, holding and shaking his empty water bottle. "I should fill this baby up

before we start running, huh?" I asked.

"It would be smart," Sebastian nods in agreement, which makes me let out a small

chuckle, "never much of a talker huh?" I asked.

"Sorry," Sebastian starts.

"No,"I zip open my book bag, "it's nod at bad thing…it's you, you know? But definitely

not a bad thing."

"Oh," Sebastian rubs his neck, two little roses die his cheek pink, "right. Yea.

Thanks."

I don't really notice the severity of Sebastian's reaction, or Kyle's angry

glare. I don't notice the other boys shooting basketballs behind us, completely

enthralled with foolery and games. I'm too focused on looking for my water

bottle, absent from my bag.

"Something wrong?" Kyle looks me up and down, curious.

"I think I forgot my water bottle…" Flashbacks of yesterday; taking it out, talking

to Not-so-Sebastian; fill my memory--for a moment—then, I flush it down.

"Where?" Kyle asked. "Classroom?"

"Nah," I shake my head, "home."

"Ah shit, that sucks man." Kyle shrugs. "Guess who's gotta stick with the paper

cups today."

"Thanks Kyle," I snort, but Sebastian raises his hand, like he's asking for permission

to speak.

"I usually leave an extra water bottle in my locker. I don't mind…lending it to

you." He said.

I turn my head to catch Sebastian eyes—memorizing and grey—and he looks into

me—not at me—into me--my soul--leaving me bare, open, vulnerable for him

to do as he pleases with me, to me.

"I don't want to make you…" I start, but Sebastian raises his hand again, this

time to cut me off.

"It's not a problem," Sebastian reassures me, "plus…I kind of have to pee, so it's

more like a pit stop."

"I…okay, thanks man." I said. "I appreciate it."

"There's no need…" Sebastian looks down at me, shy and submissive again, "for the thanks, so…"

"Absolutely not," Kyle interrupts, "No way am I letting you guys go alone. I'm going

too."

"Kyle,"I said, "it doesn't take three people to get a water bottle."

Kyle grabs my arm and tugs me a few paces away. He turns to me, sneaking glares at

Sebastian from over my shoulder.

"You are way too casual around that guy." He whispers loudly.

I raise an eyebrow, turning from Sebastian to Kyle.

"He's lending me his water bottle, Kyle." I said.

"Yea, but…" Kyle hesitates, like he's fighting with himself, to speak "what if he

does something to you? Like, I don't know. He's a big guy. And he has all those

weird rumors about him -."

"He's lending me his-what rumors?" I asked.

Kyke rolls his eyes. "Andy, he's weird," Kyle said, "he's always alone, and no one's ever seen him within centimeters of a girl-."

"Oh my god," I rip my arm from his hand, disgusted, "stop that. You shouldn't be

spreading stuff like that around-."

"I'm not-." Kyle starts, but I cut him off.

"But you believe it, right?" Kyle stays silent, "Give him a break, will you? He's a

good guy and he…he wouldn't do what-God, how can you even-?"

"I'm just looking out for you man," Kyle isn't looking at me, but past me, "I heard

he—you know—does a 'Coach H'-probably sleeps around and-."

"He can probably hear you!" I turn my head, my heart aching when Sebastian looks

from me to the ground, fiddling harshly with his uniform.

"That's not mine or your business," I turn my head, giving Kyle a look of

disappointment, "and he wouldn't land a hand on me. How could you even think

that man?"

"Andy-." Kyke starts, but I grab Sebastian's arm, refusing to look back, "Let's go," I said to Sebastian, "Kyle's gonna start practice without us."

"Andy," Kyle yells, "come on-!"

 But I'm leaving through the gym doors and

flights of stairs, hoping I'm going the right direction. One, two, three, four,

five; by the time we hit the sixth floor, Sebastian grabs my wrist and pulls me

backwards, bumping me into his hard chest, his muscles tightening when we

collide.

"Sorry, it looked like you were…uh…going to keep going up," Sebastian stares down at

me, but doesn't let go. I say silent, my body tense and rigid, until suddenly I

relax, my body turned to jelly, reflexively huddling in his embrace. Sebastian

gives me a scandalous look, eyeing me like he too, is surprised by my reaction.

I would be too, but maybe it's because I've gotten too comfortable with him.

"I'm sorry for what Kyle said." I stare at the ground, feeling regretful, "He's a nice guy,

but he can be brutal…sometimes."

Sebastian shrugs, cradling my wrist more delicately.

"It's-."

"Please don't say its fine," I turn to look at him, my wrist and his hand still intertwined,

"because it's not."

Sebastian stays silently, but my words refuse to stop, the barrier of my lips exceeding

its limit.

"You're not like that. You're a good guy so…it sucks." I said. "It sucks when people

think those-those awful, gross things about you-."

"You don't think it's true," Sebastian asked, "what they say—the rumors? You don't

think I would-?"

"I don't-." I said.

"But it could be, you know. True-."

"It could," I agree, "but I wouldn't know. I'm not you."

Sebastian grips my hand tight.

"Most of it isn't true." He said.

 "Most?"

Sebastian suddenly looks uncomfortable, ready to hide.

"The 'within centimeters' thing. It's half true." Sebastian said, with his

voice a little shaky, like he has a reason to be afraid of what I may think, "That

I'm…not completely on that…team."

I don't look away until my mind registers what he says, gears turning and

spinning, relaying the new information and pinning it to memory: a place I

wouldn't forget it.

"Oh." I said.

Sebastian nods, quickly, and turns.

"I gotta go pee." Sebastian said and he bolts to the closes' bathroom, swinging the door

shut.

"Sebastian-!" I know it's already futile, him long gone and hiding in the bathroom, scared to come out.

At first, I was just going to wait until he came out, but my feet take me to the

men's bathroom door, the wood thin and easy to hear what's on the other side.

"Take-." I breathe in, "take as long as you need buddy. I'll…I'll wait."

I mean I have to wait, because he's giving me a water bottle, but I also want to wait, until he's settles down, until he can look me in the

eye, not with fear-- but with a little more comfort--like he's not afraid to be a little bare around me. He doesn't remember what he's done for me, but I want to help him—somehow—so even if it is just temporarily, I want him to remember

something good about me.

I walk to a pair of lockers and lean on them, staring out the window. It's dark out; stars already beginning to surface. The moon, still hidden by the clouds, begins to peak from its hiding spot, ready to be captured.

"It's a view, huh?" I was expecting Sebastian to walk out of the bathroom and say

something to me, not Masked Face standing feet away from me, hands to their

sides, but one clutching their whip fiercely. "I hear the higher the floor is, the better the view of the world."

"Where," I gulp, eyeing the men's bathroom, "did you hear that from?"

"By someone you keep fucking with," Masked Face takes a step forward, a nasty snarl

on their face, "and I'm tired of seeing you still breathing."

"Why do…why do you keep trying to kill me?" I back away, but they take a step

forehead, haunting, trying to capture me like I'm some wild species.  "Haven't you realized that achieves nothing-?"

"I'm supposed to bring you back in one piece," Masked Face raises their whip and bangs the tip on the ground. Spikes cover the thin leather, poking each part of the

weapon until the heavy navy handle. "But I haven't found the heart to do that

yet."

"Bring me?" I hug the lockers, my sneakers squeaking with another step back, "what are

you talking about?"

"You're fucking dumb," they're static voice says, "you don't realize everyone around

you doesn't like you, right? There's a reason I'm here-."

"So, tell me, why are you here?" I asked.

"To make sure that power of yours is useful for me and everyone else missing

someone they want back."

"Power-?" Perplexed, I pause. "You know about the hands?"

Masked Face laughs. "Hands? I'm not talking about that, necromancer."

"Necro…who? Me?" I asked.

"Who else could I be possible talking to?" Masked Face asked, annoyed.

"I don't know," I said, but than I pause, suddenly asking "Why do you hate me so

much?"

Masked Face quietly grips their whip, their mask wrinkling with their facial

expression.

"How do you know I hate you?" They asked.

"You have to," I take another step back, my sneaker squeaking, echoing between the

hollow walls of the school's hallway. "No one does all this to someone they don't hate."

Masked Face follows my foot work, stepping forward, whip ready to reload and release.

"People do what they need to do because they have to." Masked Face said. "It's

not all about hate."

Masked Face lifts their whip "but yeah, I do hate you. I hate you a lot."

Like a gun, they load and release.

I turn and run.