Perfectly Fake ✓

02: blizzard and spice

02

I WIPED MY clammy hands on my shorts before opening the gym door and going over to Conrad and Elliot.

"Jesus, dude. I thought you died or something." Elliot mumbled, slapping me on the back.

I shrugged, holding down a flinch as Coach Hannah's voice pierced my ears.

Get over yourself. Don't make a scene.

"Boys," a hand landed on my shoulder, "we're doing Emile's favourite sport." She squeezed my shoulder and I forced a grin as Conrad and Elliot ran over excitedly.

"What's wrong, Emile?" She rubbed my back, a look of genuine concern in her eyes.

"I'm fine. It's probably the weather change, Coach." I shook my head, giving her a smile. Blizzards had already started so there was hope the schools will be closed early.

She tilted her head to the side, observing me for a few seconds.

"You've lost weight, baby." I recoiled at the affectionate term, forcing down bile. "Why don't you go lay down in my office, huh? I'll let you skip today."

I was shaking my head before she had even finished her sentence.

"Oh, no, Coach. I'm absolutely fine. Trust me, Mom wouldn't have let me out of the house otherwise."

She made a sound of agreement before sliding her hand down my arm.

"Okay. Meet me after class, alright? I miss you."

I opened and closed my mouth.

"Coach - um, Lucas will be pissed if I'm late-"

Fuck. I thought it was only a one time thing. What did I get myself into?

Emile, you fucktard.

"Lucas will say nothing. If he does, just tell him I needed something. After all, I gave that boy an A last year."

That's because he deserved it.

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for a reply. Fuck, why was she doing this? Why couldn't she find a willing participant?

"Yes, Coach," I mumbled as bile rose in my throat. "I need the toilet-"

I didn't even finish my sentence before I was making a beeline towards the exit to empty my stomach.

I flushed the toilet with a shaky hand, cursing softly. If this became a routine, I'm done for. I brushed my teeth with an old toothpaste that I had kept for an overseas game. It was probably expired.

Good. I hope it sent me into coma.

Going back into the locker room, I took out my phone with shaky hands and dialled Lucas' number.

He picked up on the sixth ring.

"What?" There was a tinge of annoyance in his tone that I ignored.

"Please, please can you pick me up early-"

"Are you sick?" He interrupted.

I shook my head before realising he couldn't see me.

"No - no, I'm okay-"

"Then you can wait." He hung up.

Fuck. What am I going to do?

Suck it up, Emile. Fucking hell. Twelve year olds are more brave.

I closed my locker, not even bothering to lock it. What would anyone steal? My brick Nokia?