Bradley Abbott

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SUNDAY 15:34

It was fascinating to Sam how small the world could be. Bradley was living practically just a few blocks away from his home. He felt weird standing in front of Bradley's door. Just being around Bradley made him feel peculiar. He knocked. Bradley opened the door with a wide smile.

" Hi." Bradley leaned in for a kiss. Sam avoided his lips and slipped past him into the house.

" Uh..hi." Sam glanced down, feeling weird all over again. Bradley nodded to himself, seeming to understand the situation at hand. After he closed the door, he turned to Sam.

" So... how are things?" he asked a bit awkardly. But Sam had a feeling he wanted to say something else.

" Good." 

Bradley nodded. " I'm playing playstation in the living room if you wanna..."

" Yeah, sure!" Sam nodded excitedly. As he followed Bradley to the  living room he noticed how small the rooms were. The whole kitchen and the hall could be fitted into Sam's bathroom. But the whole house gave a cosy, comfortable vibe. The wall in the living room was full of family photos. But looking at those photos, Sam had a feeling the only family Brad had was his father.

" So, where are your parents?" Sam asked as they sat on the sofa. Bradley handed him the PS remote.

" Dad's at work. Well, he's at work practically all the time and rarely home."

" And what does your mom do?" Sam asked cautiously.

" I don't know. She's probably getting high somewhere..." Bradley said in a  nonchalant way. Sam gazed at him for a while. Bradley glanced at him.

" She left when I was a kid. Haven't heard from her ever since. It's always been my dad and me." Bradley grew somber. His expression then lightened as he remembered something.

" Hey, I ordered some pizza. There are some slices in the kitchen if you wanna eat?" he asked.

" I already ate at home. But I wouldn't mind." Sam smirked. Bradley got up and went to the kitchen. Sam heard the sound of the microwave as the pizza inside heated. He glanced around and noticed some trophies sitting on the glass-door cupboard. He rose up and took a closer look at them.

" Ah.. I see you met my babies."  Sam suddenly turned. Bradley placed the plate on the coffee table.

" I used to have a lucky streak with my previous football team." Bradley explained.

" You call this being lucky?" Sam pointed to the shelf full of 9 trophies and awards. Bradley laughed.

" Okay, we were good. For a while though..." Bradley said sternly.

" What happened?" Sam furrowed his brows.

" Let's just say.. relationships within the team strained as time went on. And as a result we started losing more and more. We even lost the support of the entire school... We deteriorated.." Bradley gazed ahead as he recalled what Sam presumed must have been the toughest moments of his life. Sam didn't feel like talking about football anymore.

" What job keeps your dad away from home?" he suddenly got curious. Bradley  smirked.

" He's a cop."

Sam raised his brows. " Wow, that must be a tough job. Is he strict as a parent?"

" Why the hell does everyone think cops are strict parents?" Bradley scoffed. Sam laughed.

" Well, is he?" he asked.

" No, he's the most wonderful parent you could ask for." Bradley said.  Being used to friends at school speaking ill of their parents, Sam was genuinely surprised by the outspoken manner Bradley displayed his love toward his dad. He wished he could say the same for his dad.

" He's not much at home, yes, but when he is, he tries his best to be a good parent." Bradley continued. Sam glanced away.

" Anyway, what do you do when you're not at parties?" Bradley changed the topic. Sam smirked.

" Parties are actually not my thing. I only went yesterday because I knew you'd be there." Sam revealed.

" Oh, yeah?" Bradley raised his brows in wonder. " I'm glad I can have such an impact."

" Football's not my thing. I'm a boxer."

 " Really? You don't seem like one though." Bradley teased him.

" What?!" Sam laughed and slightly punched his shoulder. Bradley let out a sound of pain but chuckled either way.

" I feel insulted right now." Sam said but couldn't keep a straight face.

" No, I mean your arms are perfectly sculpted but you're not as bulky as some boxers. You're quite slim." Bradley explained.

" I'm 15. What do you expect me to look like? But you're right. I should put on more muscle mass." Sam nodded.

" So, how long have you been training for?" Bradley asked.

" 2 years."

" So, you must be quite good."

" Yeah, but not as good as you are at football. I've only won 1 award so far."

" Hey, that's something. You just gotta keep working. Trophies come later. Anyways, are we gonna play now or what?!" Bradley patted him on the shoulder.

" Hah, I can't wait to beat your ass at playstation." Sam threw himself on the sofa.

" You wish!"


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