Blind Ambition | ✓

30 | Tell Me What You Hate About Me

There were few things on earth I hated more than wearing a tie, but if there was one event where a tie was non-negotiable, it was the fall sports awards banquet. It was one of the minimal school events that parents and students both attended, which meant appearances were, in my mother's words, imperative. Apparently that meant I wasn't allowed to look like I'd barely left the house all winter break and slept until noon every day.

The fall sports awards banquet effectively kickstarted second term in mid-January, but it was also an excuse for everyone to indulge in their fair share of drama, just better dressed with a prettier backdrop. The school board rented out the grandest ballroom in a venue in town called The Atrium, which was significantly more appropriate for weddings and sweet sixteens, but Athletic Director Kane implored upon them how New Livingston's outstanding fall sports deserved the best place for recognition. Exquisite crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling had been dimmed, bathing the ballroom in a soft, warm glow, and white cloth covered tables had been grouped by sport, similarly to how I assumed an actual wedding was sectioned off. You don't mix your rowdy second cousins with your easily-offended in-laws, just like you don't mix the football team and the field hockey team.

Even though the event was invite only, those who were invited were most definitely not above the drama. Despite the fact that we'd been seated on opposite sides of the room, it felt like the very air was combustible every time my gaze would meet Kaia's. There was a churning in my stomach and a distinct thumping to my heart, like my body was anticipating something that my head wasn't yet aware of.

"Dallas, don't slouch so much," my mother said in a hushed voice as she leaned over and pinched my elbow. I'd been preoccupied with dismantling an elaborate dinner plate, trying to make it seem like I'd at least eaten something.

"Sorry," I grumbled. I shot a pleading glance across the table to Chris, who'd been busy stuffing his face with mashed potatoes. He offered me a sympathetic shrug.

After a much too fancy dinner service, they'd start handing out the more anticipated awards. It wasn't like I hadn't been through this whole sordid song and dance before. I'd earned my fair share of awards over the years - most notably included conference rookie of the year and two-time state championship MVP - but the most touted awards for high school athletes weren't dished out until senior year. I'd already been officially awarded a third state-championship MVP earlier in the night by Coach Knox, even though I'd been named MVP immediately after the game last month. Unsurprisingly, Kaia had earned an award or two of her own, including all-conference field hockey player of the year.

"It gives me great pleasure to present our last award of the night - the National High School Athletic Foundation's Scholar-Athlete Award." Despite his endearing words, Kane remained as monotonous as ever.

The Scholar-Athlete award went to the student athlete that not only kicked ass in their respective sport, but also demonstrated exemplary academic achievement and school leadership. As per usual, my competition for the award included New Livingston's esteemed field hockey captain.

"It comes as no surprise that this year's award recipient has excelled both on and off the football field," Kane continued. Beside me, my father tilted his chin up slightly, no doubt ready for my name to come out of Kane's mouth. But nobody in the room was holding their breath - the moment Kane said football, it was understood who the award was going to. I bit down on my lip and tried to mentally prepare myself to stand in front of a room full of people I didn't even like. People that I was certain could see the frailty that had grown on me like ivy on a weathered old building that was once grand. I'd taken half of one of the pills Danny had given me earlier in the night, but it had already worn off, and I didn't have time to think about the possibility that I'd been growing more tolerant of whatever it was.