Different colored minds

I've been dreading this

JOE POV

I've been dreading today. Last year I was offered a full ride scholarship to three highly ranked universities because of my ability to play football. Now, I was walking into senior year with no leg, no football, and no future. Sure they might hand me a pity scholarship or two, but that's if I can get my grades up.

"Dude, get this, already I've gotten notes from 4 girls. Isn't that awesome!" Steven is showing me the notes, the papers falling onto my lap. Steven reaches down to pick up the notes now scattered on the floor, out of my reach. I look over at the frilly handwriting and scribbled hearts on the pages. Another department of my life that will never be the same. I take a deep breath and keep rolling my chair. I don't want to talk about girls when I know I can't even fuck them the same.

"so, there's practice tonight if you wanna come!" He spews.

"I told you I already quit," watching other people play football is worse than feeling my bones shattering under the weight of three other football players. The day they cut off my leg is the day I cut off my life with football.

"You can't quit. You're the captain," Steven continues complaining. I can hear the bell ringing in the background for my next class. I will most definitely be late now, for the third time today.

"I'll talk you later," I sigh, annoyance boiling in my voice. Steven stops and looks at me.

"I'll see you after school," he says it like I've somehow wounded him, but it's something worse than that—

I approach the door to the next building with a load of rocks stacked in my stomach. I have history at the end of this hall. I can feel my jaw clench while Looking out into the sea of students. I don't make it to class on time. three minutes late in fact. And I'm greeted by a closed door with no handicap button. my prosthetic cant get here fast enough.

The whole day is an inconvenience up to the final bell. It's been a mix of hellos from team mates, I'm sorry's from girls I used to fuck, and the looks of shock on the faces of everyone else.
"Man, what a shame you lost your leg, you were so good at football." From one person.
"Wow, it's really gone." From the next.
I hear the whispers, and feel the glances.

This is stupid.

Finally the last bell rings. But before I can catch a moment's rest, Steven is next to my wheelchair holding the door open for me. At this point I'm so tired I let it slide. Rolling down the sidewalk embedded in the lawn, I'm greeted with the gym I've trained in since middle school. My dad used to take me here—

he and I had this big plan that one day I would be a professional football player, and he would get vip seats to every game. Now, I have to focus on my schoolwork. That and Ignore all the people that treat me like I'm made of glass.

"Why are you taking me to the gym?" I look over at Steven glumly. I have a feeling I know where this is headed.

"You'll see." He smiles as the cold fingers of dread creep down my spine. He opens the doors to the gym. I gulp as I look over at the basket—and then at steven standing in front of the gym door. I really can't catch a break.
"Oh come on, you can at least dunk some hoops with me."
"No."
"It's not like you can't use your arms," he sounds irritated now. "I've been dying to shoot hoops with you and you won't even give it a chance. Come on, man. All you have to do is aim." I look over at him with a pain I suppress. My arms burn from rolling around all day, my torso is on fire. If he had any brain cells left, I would shoot them myself.

"Fine, throw me the ball," I finally state, my hands outstretched. He throws the orange rugged ball to me which causing my vehicle to shift unsteadily underneath me. Once I balance myself I have to stick the ball between my knees to turn to face the hoop. Then, with one solid movement the ball flies into the air, ricochets off the backboard into the far reaches of the gym. Steven races after it. I knew this was a dumb idea, this is fetch with Steven as the dog. I turn towards the door but he blocks off my escape.

"You Can't give up after one basket," he chides. Im about to chastise him when there is the boom from someone shoving against the gym doors—hard.

Steven topples over, Aliana now stacked on top of him. Before I can grasp the full weight of the situation her crystal blue eyes are boring into mine.

"it's nice to see you're back at practice," she says through a smile.

Well shit.

This day really can't get worse.

"I'm not going to practice, I was just catching up with Steven before I leave."

"Oh come on Joe, we need our captain," Steven complains. The anger pulsing through my veins makes my skin boil.

"I'm not your captain anymore Steven! I don't have a leg, remember? You know what, it's fine, you should get to practice and I need to get home."

"Okay fine, but this isn't over!" Steven eyes me before racing away.

Now it's just aliana, me, and a large silent gym. I can't look at Aliana right now. She's the last person I need to see right now. I don't need any more pity from anyone Or I might blow a fuse. And then my heart hurts worse when I look back at her eyes because I know that I'm lying to myself. I know for a fact that aliana would never pity me. She would be empathetic. Understanding. And Perfect. And That's why I want—wanted her, Why I can't have her now. Not like this.

"Hey, Aliana, we gotta head to practice, coach will be here soon." One of the other cheer leaders yells from the other end of the gym, slamming the dressing room door open. Aliana looks at me like she has something to say, but then thinks better of it and rushes away. And so I'm left all alone with yet another closed door I can't open.