Nevermore

Chapter 03

S H A W N

Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.

This was what his mother used to tell him each time he felt his anger resurfacing when he was younger. But his mother wasn't here with him today, and he knew that the anger could be useful during a game, coming to his aid like an old friend.

Shawn had locked himself inside the locker room's bathroom, trying to ease his mind before the start of the rugby practice. He splashed some water across his face a few times before resting his palms on either side of the bathroom sink, looking back at his own reflection in the mirror.

He touched the little scar on his forehead. He had gotten it when he was a kid and had fallen down the stairs. Others might have called it a flaw, but Shawn liked it. His dad used to joke that it made him look tough. He used to say that scars are not something to be ashamed of, whether they are visible or from within. Shawn hadn't understood what that meant when he was younger.

"Anderson! Hurry up!" Shawn heard Thomas call out to him loudly. Thomas Nash was the team's captain, and the best player among them.

Shawn dried his face with his sleeve and then left the bathroom. As he advanced through the locker room, he threw a quick glance at David Wilson — another one of his teammates — who was tidying his locker; it was filled with old water bottles, red envelopes, and ugly bracelets that his girlfriend had probably made for him.

Shawn had always gotten a sense that most of his teammates loathed him, including Wilson, but Shawn couldn't care less.

The practice began, and soon he lost track of the ticking clock. When he played that brutal game and ran as fast as his legs could carry him, when the adrenaline filled him up and the rush of blood coursed through his body, it was the only time he could feel at peace. It was the only time he felt alive. To lay somewhere motionlessly and to be haunted by the silence of an empty room was like a slow death to him, like something that gradually sucked at his soul.

After almost two tiresome hours, their coach finally called it a day and dismissed them. For his first day of returning to the field after three months away, Shawn had done a surprisingly good job at not getting too many injuries.

On his way to pick up the water bottle he had placed on a bench nearby, Shawn caught someone waving at him from the almost-empty audience stands.

     Looking up, he grinned when he saw Nicholas sitting there with the same warm smile that he always seemed to carry around with himself. Beside him, Luca was seated with a book in his hands as he read through it, lost in his own world.

Luca was wearing his glasses again, which he only used for reading or when he was in class. They were almost round, with thin, golden frames. Shawn would never admit it to him out loud, but he always thought that Luca looked good in them, over his petite and upturned nose.

Even last year, Luca used to come to the rugby field more often than the other three boys, but Shawn didn't expect that it was because Luca wanted to support him. He never seemed to watch the practice anyway and his head was always stuck in a book. Shawn assumed that he only sat in the stands because it was a good reading spot.

Shawn waved back at Nicholas before taking a large sip from his water bottle. He was still breathing heavily after the practice, his perfect tanned skin glistening with sweat underneath the sunlight that bore down on him.

His head turned almost carelessly when he saw two girls approaching him, giggling together as they stole glances at him and whispered to each other. He was far too used to this that it no longer excited him, but he sometimes found enjoyment in the occasion.