Losing A Bet

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Troy rubs his forehead and leans his back up against his headboard once again. After another full night of sleep, his headache had subsided to a dull pain instead of being sharp and intense. He had actually gotten up three times from his bed. Twice to go to the bathroom and once to take an extremely short shower. He was recovering quicker than the doctor predicted he would. But that was because Troy was strong, and it also helped that he was sick of sitting in his boring room. He wanted to get outside, and was pretty sure he was now having basketball withdrawals. Was that even possible? Well, it was in Troy's book, and that was all that mattered.

Mrs. Montez had to return back to work today so he was by himself. This sucked. The last week of being home alone and he couldn't even go anywhere. He couldn't take advantage of the situation by drinking or going to parties until late, or, his favorite, having sex sessions with Gabriella. Nope, instead he was stuck inside his room on his bed, being more bored then he had ever been in his life. And the orange basketball sitting on the floor seemed to be mocking him. He was going to explode!

A sigh erupts from his mouth as he suddenly hears the door making a raping noise on the closed door. That was weird. Gabriella was working until seven tonight, and he was pretty sure that everyone else was working too. He glances at the clock quickly to see that it was 5:30 PM. He then looks back to the closed door. Why was the door closed anyways? It wasn't like anyone else was going to come in. But he pushes that thought to the side. "It's open." He yells.

The door opens and Troy's eyes grow wide for a moment. Standing in the doorway was a spiked up blonde haired basketball captain looking awkwardly into Troy's room. Troy's piercing blue eyes suddenly narrow as he remembers the last time he saw this guy was when he was fighting him. Bradin gives him an extremely awkward look as he walks into the room. "Err... hi Bolt... err... Troy."

Troy's eyebrow rises. Why the hell was he here? It didn't make any sense. Last time he checked, he was pretty sure that Bradin Cunningham hated him. Then why was he in his house? Let alone his room. "What the hell are you doing here?" Troy asks with more anger in his voice then he intended.

Bradin steps further into his room and looks around. Troy was pretty sure that he had never been inside his room before. "Shaq. I got one in my room too." He points to the poster on Troy's wall of Shaquille O'Neal on his wall and Troy raises another eyebrow. Why was he making small talk? And why was he in Troy's room?

"Great. But you didn't answer my question. What the fuck are you doing here?" Troy asks with sarcasm in his voice.

Bradin turns away from the poster and looks down, not meeting Troy's eyes. "I... err... I came to see if you were ok." He says and Troy raises another eyebrow.

"What?" He says, not believing that actually came out of Bradin's mouth. "You're shitting me." He blurts out. Why would his rival basketball captain come to asking if he was ok? There had to be something more to this.

"I'm not." Bradin responds and looks at the ground again. "I just... I wanted to say... err... um... shit ok... I'm sorry." He finally gets out and Troy's eyes grow wide.

"You're WHAT?" He says not believing what he said at all. Was this really happening or was he dreaming this? He was probably dreaming. Yea, that was it. Or he was hallucinating. Either one.

"I'm sorry." Bradin repeats. "You know... for making you hit your head or whatever." He says and Troy suddenly finds this hilarious. He burst out laughing and Bradin looks up at him for the first time.

"You're sorry?" Troy says in between laughs and Bradin nods slowly.

"Yea..." He says and Troy shakes his head, even though that caused him more pain.

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