+Alexis+
I lay flat on the ground, breathing hard.
“Fuck!” I yelled, my voice ringing in the hall. It felt good to swear.
How did Kyle do that?
I don’t know how much time passed, before I got the strength to stand up. I pressed my fingertips, one by one, to the cold surface of the floor of the school gym. In a smooth, solid movement, I bought myself up. I had to lean against a wall.
I moved my limbs, one by one. Nothing was broken. Everything was fine. That was a consolation, right.
Hell, no. It felt bad to lose.
I limped towards the door, and reached for the handle, when it burst open.
“Carter,” I said, weakly. I was so tired, that when I fell forwards and he had to catch me, I didn’t care. I wanted to sleep.
“Alexis?” he said, sounding scared. “Who the hell did this to you?”
I can’t believe he was scared. Max wouldn’t sound scared. He would sound angry.
“Why are you blackmailing me?” I whispered, though un-moving lips. “Why are you making me leave Max?”
He didn’t answer.
In a sudden moment of clear thought, I pushed him away. “Leave me alone, Carter.”
He grabbed my hand. “I’m not going to back down, Alexis.”
“Do it, then,” I spat. “Kick Max off the team. I don’t care. It’s nothing to do with me!”
His grip loosened, and I stumbled away.
When did the Game stop being fun?
***Next Day***
“Where’s Max?” I said, to Blondie. Cheerleader was probably hanging around somewhere. “I need to talk to him.”
I ignored the mutterings around me.
“Dude,” she said, staring at me. “What happened to your face?”
I touched the swelling on my cheek, and my black eye.
“I’ve been through worse,” I said defensively. True. I’ve broken six ribs, my right arm twice, my left arm once, my collar bone, my right leg (in three places), and fractured my spine. Although, to be fair, most of those was when I drove the car of the cliff.
“Right,” she said. “Max is probably on the pitch, training.”
I didn’t ask how she knew.
I ran to the straight to the pitch. The whole team was there, huddled in the corner. Except for one, who was talking to the coach.
Max.
I decided to watch from where I was.
Max seemed to be talking to the coach. He was frowning. The coach gestured a lot with his hands, making a “what-can-I-do?” sign. Max yelled, and even from where I was, I could quite clearly hear, “Why the fuck?”
I bit my lip, and closed my eyes. I couldn’t watch this. I’m selfish, aren’t I? I was born to be. My parents had taught me that I was better. Was I, really?
Max had changed me.
***
School was over, and I’d endured about six hours of people pointing at my face. I’d looked for Max at break, and at lunch, but he wasn’t there.
