Sidelines || MxM

I need you

Jackson

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The words hammered in my mind as I watched Ethan hastily walk away. The papers he pushed into my chest were now clenched in my hand. His sudden leave threw me off balance, and everything in me screamed to go after him.

I didn't have time to process it all. Driven by instinct, I started to go after him. My steps were quick, almost urgent. Why was I so driven to follow him, to fix this? What was it about Ethan that made me feel... like this? No, I didn't have time to think.

Navigating the student crowd was like dodging tackles on the field, only less aggressive. A few glanced my way, but I barely noticed. Right now, understanding what the fuck had just happened was all that mattered.

"Ethan, wait!"I shouted once more. My voice cracked; it echoed louder than I intended. More heads turned my way, curious eyes briefly pausing on me before resuming their own conversations. A wave of self-consciousness washed over me, realizing my outburst had drawn unwanted attention. But Ethan didn't stop, didn't even slow down. It was like he was on a mission to put as much distance between us as possible.

No, I don't want that.

As I picked up my pace to catch up with him, my mind raced. Hannah's name had been brought into this, and the way Ethan said it... it was loaded, biting, telling of something deeper. Her meddling, her possessiveness—it infuriated me. I cursed under my breath. Hannah. I should've guessed she would do something impulsive, but going after Ethan? That was crossing a line.

Thinking about Hannah, it was like seeing a mirror image of my own family. She, too, had always been careful about appearances, just like my father. I knew Hannah's family history, how she grew up under the shadow of her mother's ambitions, molded from a young age to value greed and status above all else.

Her mother's relentless pursuit of the upper echelons of society had left its mark on Hannah, turning her into someone perpetually grasping, always hungry for more. In many ways, that was partly why I chose her initially—it was convenient, aligned with the expectations of my life.

Catching up to Ethan, I reached out and gently grabbed his arm. The last thing I wanted was to spook him further. "Ethan, please. Just... talk to me."

He stopped but didn't turn to face me fully. "I said I'm done," his voice was sharp, defensive. "What part of that didn't you understand, Jackson?"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of frustration inside me. "I want to understand what's going on. Why did you bring up Hannah? What did she say to you?"

Ethan's eyes flashed, briefly revealing the wall he'd built around himself. A tightness formed in my chest, a flicker of pain for whatever shadows he was wrestling with. "She made it very clear that I'm not... welcome. That I'm... what, some threat to you? To her?"

Ha...

His response had stung, cutting deeper than I had expected. My fists clenched at my sides, crumpling the notes further in my grip. There was a pause, heavy with unspoken words. The anger was like a fire, starting small but growing, consuming thoughts and rationality. She had no right, no damn right to speak for me, to interfere like this. And Ethan was caught in the middle of this mess – he didn't deserve any of it.

"Listen to me. I'm really sorry about this. Hannah has no right to say anything like that to you. Whatever she said it is, it's not true," I insisted.

He finally turned to face me. "Jackson, I'll talk to Professor Hayes and find another tutor for you."

No, that couldn't happen, not just because of the looming threat from the Coach or the pressure of keeping my grades up. But because I want... no, I needed this. There was something about him, something that pulled at me, a force that, at this point, I knew I couldn't ignore.