Scarred Hearts

5 | Regret hit him like a brick

Nicholas watched Valeria and Roger with a pinned stare over Mr. Jones's shoulder. They had walked together to the locker rooms but, instead of entering, they just stood there talking.

What could they possibly be talking about? And what was Roger's deal? He could have easily scored, but instead, he passed the basketball to her. If he needed to pass the basketball to anyone so badly it should have been to Nicholas, his best friend, not her.

She entered the locker rooms, and Roger stayed there standing like a moron, just staring at the door. Was he waiting for her? Was she going to come back for him?

"Grayson!" Mr. Jones snapped his fingers in front of Nicholas's face to get his attention.

"Yes, coach," Nicholas said with conviction like he had heard every single word Mr. Jones had said to him.

"Yes, coach? I'm surprised you're owning up to this. Good for you." Mr. Jones patted Nicholas's shoulder before walking away. "Don't be late."

"Of course," Nicholas said, and added after a brief pause, "Wait, late for what?"

"Six a.m., tomorrow, here."

"Six a.m.?" Nicholas asked, unable to contain his shock.

"Just as you agreed."

"Nicholas scratched his neck, his frustration growing as he realized he should have paid closer attention to what Mr. Jones had been saying.

When he finally got into the locker rooms, Roger had a towel around his waist and was moving toward his locker. Nicholas bumped his shoulder, hard, as he passed by him.

"Seriously, dude? No wait, I know, I'm invisible now too."

Nicholas halted and looked at his so-called friend. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" Roger challenged.

"You passed her the ball. I was standing right there," Nicholas said, the coldness in his voice masking the anger boiling beneath the surface.

Roger ran his tongue in between his teeth and leaned in when he said, "I guess I didn't see you, pal."

With a deliberate bump to Nicholas's shoulder, Roger walked toward his locker.

"Fuck you," Nicholas shouted at Roger's back.

"Grow up, Nick."

Adam, another one of Nicholas's friends, saw his face contort into something ugly, like a bomb ready to explode at any second.

"What?" Nicholas shouted at him, and if Adam had a shovel, he would have dug himself a hole to hide from the beast in front of him. Instead, he moved away from him with his palms up in a sign of peace.

The angry boy ran his fingers through his hair. It was all that bitch's fault. He swallowed his hanger in bitter gulps and stored it just. for. her.

♥♥

The next morning, Nicholas showed up at the school gym at 6:02 a.m.

"You're late," Mr. Jones said, his expression far from pleased.

Because Nicholas didn't know when to shut his mouth, he responded, "Barely. It's 6:02, coach."

"You're late," Mr. Jones repeated, his displeasure deepening.

That's when Nicholas noticed the cleaning supplies behind him.

"Hmm... what's all this for?"

"The windows, Grayson."