Disowned
by Victor Thomas
Chapter 22
Javier
"Javier!" Coach Barrett boomed in his deepest voice.
Everyone on the team knew that meant trouble.
Running my hand through my hair, I stopped jogging toward the locker room. I bent forward, resting my hands on my thighs and let my breathing calm down. Or perhaps, it was more my mind that required calming down. Either way, I saw Coach's sneakers approaching me and heard his voice.
"What's going on with you? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I lied.
He laughed.
"I've known you long enough."
I glanced at him. Yeah, I have problems with my shitty boyfriend, but it's not your damn business.
Two days had passed and Kenny was still not talking to me. Actually, I had hardly seen him since the encounter at the lockers. If the boy excelled in something, it was definitely hiding in the shadows. I should have forgotten the coward already, but it wasn't easy.
"Nothing's wrong, Coach," I reassured him.
The look on his face didn't change.
"Is Chris or someone else bullying you again?" he asked.
"No," I blurted out.
Besides, if someone was, I would handle it myself and not run into his office.
"Fine. You know where to find me if you want to talk." He patted me on the shoulder. "And I want to see you trying more tomorrow. The team needs you, and you can do much better."
I sighed and watched him walk to his office. How was I supposed to focus on football when all I could think about was Kenny? The bastard had dumped me with no explanation. It was not like the Kenny I knew. There was something in the equation that didn't match, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't figure it out.
The rest of the guys were already changing their clothes in the locker room. Reluctant to go there yet, I stared at the football field. On the left there were the bleachers where Kenny had watched our practices and games now and then. Now it was as empty as the football field, and my heart.
It's been only two days.
I tried to tell myself that he needed more time to think about… things. It frustrated me that I didn't even know what had happened. Had I pressured him too much to come out? It felt unlikely, but he did have a tendency to overthink everything, and what else could it be. I couldn't recall doing anything so bad that it gave him a reason not to even reply to my message.
Vivid flashbacks had haunted me the whole day. There was the secluded corner in the cafeteria where we had eaten and talked about the math teacher, the lockers where he had kissed me for the first time, and the classroom where we had shared the intimate moment just before he dropped the bomb. Still, my bedroom was the worst. It was impossible to sit on my bed without feeling him sitting there next to me.
I need to stop torturing myself.
Suddenly, I saw someone approaching the building where the locker room was. He wasn't coming from the parking lot, but sneaking in the shadows of the trees. I would have recognized the black jeans and white hoodie anywhere.
"Kenny," I shouted.
It was a big mistake.
As soon as he noticed me, he flinched and turned around. I sprinted after him like my whole life depended on it. Maybe it did, who knows, but I managed to reach him on the corner of the parking lot. I took hold of his hand and turned it over.
"We need to talk," I said.
He kept looking around like he was afraid of something.
"Javier, please. Let me go."
"Why did you dump me?"
"It's better we don't meet or talk."
I let go of him and fisted my hands, my fingernails biting into the palms. I cursed under my breath when he took a few steps back. He raised his arms to protect his face and I hid my hands behind my back immediately. I didn't mean to hit my boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, but had there been a punching bag, with the amount of frustration running in my veins, there wouldn't have been much left of it.
"At least tell me what I did wrong," I said.
He gave me a sad smile.
"You did nothing wrong."
"Don't give me that shit," I exploded. "It's not me, it's you. Right?"
"I gotta go."
He hastened toward the parking lot where his car was. Not even once did he turn to look back. It was obvious that something had happened. The boy who was running away, wasn't he someone who had jerked me off in a classroom just a few days earlier.
Black clouds hung over my head, and I returned to the locker room. All my teammates had left already; only their smell was hovering in the small room. I stuck my shirt in my bag and peeled off my pants and socks. They stunk, like my life. Trying not to think of Kenny, I walked to the showers and let the water run down my exhausted body.
We never made out in the locker room. At least there was one place that wouldn't remind me of my ex-boyfriend.
I had soaped my entire body when I heard the door open outside. For the slightest moment a small hope grew in my mind. What if it was Kenny? The footsteps grew louder the closer they drew, until none other than Joshua, wearing only his skin, walked around the corner.
"Hope you don't mind."
He smiled.
"Huh? I don't… I mean…"
I didn't take my eyes off his body.
He flicked on the water and stood across from me, looking me up and down. His eyes sparkled, and the grin on his face grew broader. He stepped forward to take the soap from my shower shelf, and our chests almost touched. The stunningly gorgeous basketball player looked me in the eyes and rested his hand on my shoulder.
"Tell me something," he said, his voice full of empathy, "are you okay?"
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