Knock Me Down - [COMPLETE]

13 - Jasper's Ring

I'm talking on the phone with Holden after making sure to call my parents and return their thanksgiving wishes I slept through. Seeing me on the phone is a rare sight considering I hated phone calls. My parents were fine to talk with since they were...my parents. Holden just manages to make them feel a little nicer. And he only ever called me if he was going to be brief. FaceTime was the hours worth of laughs we'd have.

"How far is the tournament?"

I'm collecting my things back into my tote in the living room as Holden's on speaker. Jasper was sitting on the couch, drowsy, and patiently waiting for me to finish.

"It's an hour and a half? Two hours max? That's why we're traveling on a coach bus"

"Send me the address. I'm going to watch"

"Dude. Holden. No. Come on. I've told you. They're long. Hours. You know how bad my feet ache after two days of tournaments"

"I'll come towards the end then. But I'm going. Friends gotta support each other even if it might be uber boring. You might win something"

I groan. He might make me anxious. I'll get over it but I don't want to have to.

"Okay but hide in the crowd. I don't want your face to throw my game off"

"Is it 'cause I'm too handsome?"

I glance at Jasper in mild panic. He only shakes his head in disapproval, "Shut up, just don't tell me you're there. I know it'll be hard for you to camouflage since your fat head sticks out"

"See now I'm gonna make sure you see me, dude. I'll have a giant poster with letters in glitter 'n shit and bring cheerleader pom-poms and choreograph a routine and–"

"Fuck off, I'm hanging up" I press the red button in the middle of his laughter. I turn on my heels and Jasper's a foot away from me than expected.

"Oh, fuck! Do your footsteps not even make a sound?"

He rolls his eyes at me, "When does your tournament start?"

I calculate it with the schedule in my head, "We have to be there at 7:45 am for check in. Coaches meeting at 8:30...practice at 45, uhh, 9 am? Why?"

"I'm coming"

I feel my stomach sink to my nuts, "What? No. No way. You'll get bored. You've been to my tournaments in high school. These can go for even longer. Since scoring for tier 1 tournaments can be low, more spare conversions, more time"

He gives me no retaliation but the way his eyes stare back at me waiting for me to say something to change his mind (knowing nothing will) makes me frown.

"I'm not letting you"

"You let Holden"

"Okay but Holden doesn't make me as--"I bite my tongue.

"What?" He mumbles subtly frustrated, "If you give me a good reason, I might listen"

The blood enters my face in waves and he absorbs every moment of it, "Holden doesn't make me as nervous the same way you do"

I thought when I'd say that it'd come out more natural and reasonable, but I know he'd read it differently. He might as well be an alien. I don't think even any omniscient deity knew what he was thinking. I see the Adam's apple travel up and then down. His hands turn to loose fists and he goes, "Just sounds like another reason to go"

"Make me nervous so I can fail?"

"Athletes are watched all the time. Everyone's watching you. People want you to fail. They aren't physically harassing you to fail. Your mentality is doing it. Are you going to let their eyes accomplish what they want?"