The Jock, The Nerd and The Geek

16

1k reads.

Yes, we've reached the stage where I should have popped a bottle with y'all, if you were here but you're not, sadly.

As I stated, this is the other half of TJTNTG and there would be a rollercoaster of emotions, which might make you hate me (or love me, amen) but I'd make it worth it, scout's honour. (why do I feel a need to say 'I solemnly swear to be up to no good'?)

Anywaaaaaayyyy,

I want to say thank you to this people who have voted and commented on my work:

Djtupou2149
deliciochoco
ILiketacos8v
geenai.

And to those who don't, thank you regardless for reading my book, I know most of it sucks and you have better things to do but thank you all the same.

Song: Fire on Fire by Sam Smith.

~

Paris didn't sleep that night.

Perhaps, he half expected she'd want to call him and ask for an explanation but he knew by now that she'd not even bother to hear his side.

Besides, Hermes?

Hermes was the god of trickery. It sounded like she already knew he didn't exactly have the best intentions in the beginning but he didn't think she'd just let him go so easily.

Sunday passed and he didn't get a call or text.

Monday for him was practically busy, considering how his teammates suddenly became friendly all over again, sending him thumbs up whenever they could and pats on his back that both irritated and frustrated him at the same time.

Eventually, when the competition with the other school began, he fucked up the first half. Wrong passes, horrible shots, half assed dribbles.

They were already behind fifty points.

"Holmes," His Coach looked liked he was ready to explode with how red his face was. "Is there something wrong? Mommy and Daddy problems perhaps?"

Paris felt like punching him. "No."

"Then why's your game off?" The man snapped back bug-eyed. "Because you were playing alright before and it was your mates problem now it's you. Maybe benching would just be better."

"Oh, naw, Coach," Matteo said, "Everyone has off days. This is just one of them for Paris. Right, bro?"

Bro. They were bros again.

Paris nearly scoffed at the word. "Right,"

"Well, we can't exactly move up if he keeps having off days, can we?" He asked, then looked at him. "So you're no longer playing. Cole is taking your spot."

Cole, who was the second best player but was not allowed into the whole popular group thing knew what taking Paris' position meant.

Glares all through the day. "I don't think —"

"I didn't stutter, did I?" Coach asked, giving his own glare now.

He was angry, of course he was, basketball was his sport. The one thing he could do without feeling like a complete mess, and even she had the ability to take that.