December Boys (BxB) | ✓

Chapter 14 - Just Peachy

To my great dismay, Axel failed to show up to our first filming session at Fort Violet. He'd been a dependable partner so far, but it seemed the field trip had claimed Axel's inspiration and loyalty in one fell swoop. 

That's how I found myself all alone on the sidelines of the football field, navigating the camera from one player to another as they jumped over tires, crawled under nets, and generally did stereotypical macho training to show off their skills.

The field sat near a shimmering body of water. Lake Violet had taken on an orange hue just where it dipped into the horizon, and afternoon slowly spilled into evening as I filmed the December Dragons in their glory. A cold breeze began to blow past the football field, ripping at my jacket and disturbing the treetops. I leaned in, adjusting the focus on the Canon in front of me. It was hard to keep the tripod balanced properly, the wind and the grass kept shaking up my shot.

"You getting this, Summers?" the coach yelled, pointing to a pair of boys that looked to be wrestling on the ground near his feet. I gave the man a thumbs up before dutifully panning over to capture the display of masculinity. Ah, how I loved my life at that moment. There was nothing quite like spending a Friday evening around people that hated you.

I had enough freedom to close my eyes and once again see Lily's broken expression flash before me. The shock in her face was exaggerated every time the scene returned to me. Guilt squirmed in my belly, disturbing my focus on the football field. Would I always remember those tears in her eyes? Was I doomed to relive that moment until the day I tapped out and met my maker? Would said maker condemn me for what I did?

Fortunately for my sanity, I was given no more time to ponder that question. As I opened my eyes and came back to reality, drills were ending and my camera was out of battery. The coach had managed to disappear back into the resort building, and cold realization washed over me. I'd been fantasizing a minute too long.

There was a sort of humming all around, like an electric energy that went from player to player. The tension went from keeper to captain, captain to midfielder and surged in one pointed direction. They were all staring at me, some openly, others more discreet, but stare they did. I was reminded that none of these people liked me, and a fair share of them would love to bring me down. A cold breeze swept across the field, spurring me into action.

I began to pack up the equipment. As I stuffed the camera back in its bag, tossed the tripod over my shoulder and zipped up the mic in the backpack, I pointedly ignored all the stares. They were burning into me, aggressive laser beams of hatred. Shit. My heart raced.

It took less than five minutes to collect my stuff and sprint to the resort, yet I still found myself face to face with one of the defenders. He was a broad-shouldered boy with angry eyes and an impertinent face. He blocked the revolving doors, separating me from the freedom and safety within them. I could feel the other players behind me, closing in. The air grew stagnant around us.

"Enjoying your stay, Summers?" the guy drawled, eyes glinting. I wondered when they'd all decided to address me by my last name. It had started as a joke back in middle school (when none of these people hated me) and somehow held up even now. I had no idea how to reply to this guy. I was fairly certain he didn't care much for anything I had to say. The mass of team players shifted behind me.

"It's a nice place," I said, trying to appear braver than I was.

He responded by spitting on my brand new sneakers. Oh.

"You ain't shit," he snarled, mouth twisting down. "Think we're just gonna let you waltz in here and make that little movie of yours?" He laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "You've got another thing coming, Summers."

I was about to open my mouth when the coach popped his head out the door. He was holding the frame to keep it from twirling him back into the building.

"What's the matter, boys? You must be starving after all that exercise! Come on, dinner is ready!"

The hostile energy deflated and fizzled out, like air escaping an oversized balloon. The angry defender sent me one last scathing look before he followed the coach. The rest of the team passed me as well, some of them smashing their shoulders into mine, imprinting a promise for the future. A promise I'd rather not see happen.

I made a beeline for the elevators, slammed the third-floor button, and watched the team disappear as the doors slid shut before me. It didn't take long before I was outside our room and fumbling through my pockets for the key card. The hallway was lined with old-fashioned lanterns, lending a somber mood to the surroundings. My hands were shaking.

I didn't want to admit it, but I was sweaty and flustered. One angry guy I could handle, but an entire football team? Not even Axel could deal with that. Probably. I knew they disliked me, but I had no idea it was as severe as this. Having a guy hate me so much he'd spit on my shoes was a new experience. Remembering that particular detail, I kicked my shoes off before entering the room.

The door clicked open, and upon stepping into my weekend home, my eyes fell on a silhouette by the window. Axel's stuff was sitting on the floor next to him, a bundle of bags and clothing by the window. He seemed to be inspecting something in the distance. He did not venture to explain where he had been or what he had been doing, in fact, he said a grand total of zero words as I shut the door behind me.

Not even a god damn 'hello,' I thought to myself, kicking the tripod under the bed and shoving the equipment bag up against the wall. I was pretty done with both passive aggressive and plain aggressive energy for the day. Was it really too much to ask to have one decent conversation in this place? I found myself missing Seth and his never-ending rants about tarot cards and motorcycles. I'd wager even Olivia would prove a better conversation partner than Axel, even if talking to her meant having my ass handed to me. She'd skin me alive when she found out what I'd done.

I slung my jacket onto the ground and lowered myself to the bed. I'd called dibs on the one that faced the window - by unloading all my stuff on top of it - and judging by the way Axel acted, he wasn't about to object.

I considered him through a half-open eye. He seemed to be staring at the lake, face turned sideways, eyes scanning the horizon. His hair was messed up in the back, as if he'd been sleeping just now. I wondered if he'd disappeared off somewhere to take a nap. I could see it now, tall guy, all curled up in a warm windowsill somewhere, basking in the sunlight. He was almost like a big cat. Would he purr? Did tigers purr? My mind was occupied by this amusing train of thought for a minute.

"How did the filming go?"

I watched as Axel moved through the room and sat down on his bed. It was on the opposite end, directly across my own bed. His bangs were falling in front of his eyes as he looked at me.

"Just peachy," I muttered.