Chasing Blue

Chapter Nine

tw. mention of suicide

CHAPTER NINE
KOLBY

I hate spring training. It's quite literally the bane of my existence, and the idea of waking up at five am on Saturday morning is nauseating. My alarm sounds, telling me it's now five o' five, and I groan, rolling into my stomach to hit snooze. I can already hear someone causing a racket downstairs — probably Braden, ever the responsible adult. I know for a fact that Colton is hungover as fuck, and I don't think Reid ever made it home from whatever bar they had found themselves at. Hopefully he's not laying in a ditch dead somewhere.

          I burrow my face into my pillow, breathing in the scent of laundry detergent. I allow my eyes to close. I'm so tired. I had stayed up late last night wrapping Jess and Drew's birthday presents — a new pair of cleats for Jess, and some books for Drew. I had literally Face-Timed my mom in order to be able to wrap them correctly, and much to my dismay she had giggled and made of me the entire time. But God bless her, she is the best mom ever.

Someone pounds on my door, hard enough to rattle my entire room. I scowl. I hate mornings. I hate practice. Most days I hate football in general.

"Let's go!" Braden yells, enunciating the urgency with another wave of fierce knocks.

I throw my comforter off of my body, rolling out of my bed and stumbling clumsily to my feet. I groan at the cold air that rushes over my bare skin, grumbling incoherently to myself about how much I hate my life. I find my pants and shirt and pull them on haphazardly, followed by my socks and tennis shoes.

"Kolby!" Seven more harsh knocks.

"I'm coming," I harrumph, running a hand over my face and through my tangled air. I wince as I snag my nail on a knot, "Fuck."

"I'm coming in," Braden threatens, and before I can really process what's happening my bedroom door spills open, the harsh yellow light from the hallway flooding in and assaulting my eyes.

I bring my forearm to shield my poor eyes, "Argh, fuck you Braden."

"You wish you could," he jabs, grabbing my arm and dragging me into the hall, "We gotta take your truck, Colton blocked me in."

Still covering my eyes I grab my keys from my pocket, "Here."

He plucks them from my hand and shoves a water bottle into my now empty hand, then pushes my shoulder, "Go."

             I stumble out to the truck — if anyone could see me right now they would probably assume I was some drunken frat boy. But no, I am some tired, completely sober football player.

           I climb into the passenger side of my truck, immediately reaching to the side to recline it back. I'm asleep again before Braden had even pulled out of the driveway.

              We make it to the gym right at five twenty, along with nearly every other guy on the team. Half of us are wondering why we ever joined (me), and the other half bright eyed and bushy tailed (Braden).

            Coach has us do pretty simple stuff — bench presses, squats, so many suicides I actually start to think of offing myself, and then he ends it with telling us we have three miles — he doesn't care how we get it done.

          Braden and I choose to walk on the treadmill. Some guys are done by the time we reach the one mile mark, but I don't have to be anywhere until five, and Braden's just going to visit his mom and little brother sometime later, so we're in no rush whatsoever.

          We've just hit the half way mark when Braden clears his throat. My heart jumps to my throat — maybe he'll tell me what's been going on with him here lately.

           "So, are you and Indigo like a thing now, or what?"

          Well, so much for knowing what's going on.

           I scratch the back of my neck, running my tongue over my teeth, "Not really, no."

         Braden hums. "But you can't stop thinking about her?"

          "How do you know?" I ask. I haven't spoken to Braden about my recent infatuation with Indigo whatsoever. Hell, I haven't even spoke to Indigo since I dropped her back off at her apartment last week. Sure, she texts me here and there, but it's mostly funny videos or a question about the twins' party. Not once has she  even hinted at maybe showing a mutual interest in me, relationship wise.

        "Because, dude," he pauses to wipe his sweaty face off with a towel, "every time you get a text and it's not her you get all mopey."

         I shrug, "Who says I don't get all mopey at every text I get?"

         "Nah, you smile when she texts you — no matter what. Like, Thursday, when she texted you about what to get the twins, you looked like a kid on Christmas morning who'd just got a dirt bike or some shit."

          "Truth?" I finally say with a sigh, looking over at my tattoo-covered best bud, "I'm really into her. There isn't an hour that goes by that I don't think about her, in one way or another. And honestly I'm kinda kicking myself for not realizing just how cool she is until now." I laugh humorlessly, "I've known her for twelve years. We could've been together for years at this point." I shake my head, running g a hand through my sweaty hair, "And it sucks, man, 'cuz I think she's scared. She doesn't want to ruin our friendship, or her and Sadie's friendship."

            Braden's face softens, "Like there's too much history there?"

            "Fuck, exactly. And it's bullshit, Braden. I haven't even thought of another girl since that first night." That's a scary thought for me. All of these feelings are scary to me. I've never felt this way about girl before. Ever. "Indigo Brown has me under her spell."

         "Wow."

          I arch a brow, "What?"

          "You really like her, don't you?" He sounds baffled. And, to be fair, if I was in his position, I would be too.

           I nod slowly. "Yeah, man. I really do."

a/n: really short chapter lol, but I think braden and kolby just had a reallllllly important convo 😋😋