Game Theory × NH

112 | copernicium

× Mercury

I've come full circle.

A little over four months ago, I was sitting in a similar office back in California with the same four people inside. Except this time it wasn't because I was being offered an opportunity, it was because I was getting kicked out of that opportunity.

Coach Mathews sat in his high and mighty leather office chair behind his mahogany desk, looking nothing short of a CEO of a huge corporation. Or he would have if he wasn't wearing basketball shorts and a black track jacket with the Nike logo on the sleeve.

To my surprise, Coach Sharp was there as well, standing next to Mathews with her arms crossed, looking like she was at a parent teacher conference and the child had been doing poorly in class. She had on black yoga pants and a baby blue sweatshirt with the UCLA logo on the front. Her blonde hair was pushed back into a tight pony tail and her face showed nothing but disappointment.

Seeing Coach Sharp there only made my shame for all this increase by ten.

I sat in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk, Niall right beside me. I didn't dare look over at him, but I could see his knee bouncing up and down from the corner of my eye, a clear sign of nervousness. I wanted to take his hand, to reassure him that everything was going to be okay, but I figure that was probably the worst thing I could possibly do at that moment.

I was nervous, too, but it was more of a sick-to-my-stomach nervousness then a jittery one. I took a mental note that the nearest trash can was by the door if it were to ever come to that.

"I just want to be clear on something," Coach Mathews said sternly, looking at the two of us in turn. "You were aware of the rule, correct? This wasn't some kind of miscommunication or anything, right?"

Niall took the liberty to answer for us. Good thing, too, because I was sure going to be using the trash can if I were to speak right now.

"We were aware."

"How did this happen?" Mathews asked and then seemed to regret it and changed his mind. "When did this happen? When did it start?"

"Uh, can you be a little more specific?" Niall questioned cautiously.

"Jesus Christ. Just answer the question, Horan."

The way he said his name was so cold. As far as I knew, there was no way to say the name Horan without feeling flame, but maybe that was just me, so I didn't say so.

Niall sat up, clearly getting agitated. "I need more to go off of then that," he explained. "When did what start? The fucking? The kissing? The relationship?"

"Tell us everything," Mathews snapped, getting just as agitated. "But spear the details."

"I don't understand how that has anything to do with-"

"The second practice," I interrupted, suddenly finding my voice to speak without throwing up all over the beautiful mahogany desk. "That was when we, uh, first kissed."

Both coaches stared at me, obviously taken back that this has been going on since nearly the beginning. Especially since the two of us supposedly hated each other's guts back then. They didn't say anything at first, either because they were trying to understand the timeline or they were just trying to wrap their minds around the idea of us yelling at each other like rival enemies to kissing in a matter of a few days after arriving to London.

I expected Niall to speak up then and continue his argument on why he doesn't understand how this has anything to with determining our fate, but he, too, kept quiet.