Ineffable

24 | FEELING UP HIS ARMS

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Noah

Sunday morning has a cloudless sky with a scorching blaze of the sun. The wind is not quite too much of a storm or a normal breeze, just enough to let the grass of the field wave. If you just stop and listen, the rustling of the grass seems like music and peace.

Total fucking bullshit.

I kneel down, cursing at the headache I have gotten myself, as I tie the laces of my cleats.

Yesternight, I had planned to stay overnight at Bella's place for reasons I do not want to remember but I didn't when I let Bella sleep on my shoulder. I looked at her sleeping—again for the third time, after putting her on her bed and before sneaking out of the room. I know this is a drug addiction more than a habit of mine. I know it needs to stop—it has to stop.

The headaches should not turn into heartaches.

I distract myself from any further thoughts as Benjamin sits down next to me. He leans back on the bench and looks at me.

"What?" He asks when I look at him, raising my eyebrows. "I am not invading your personal space, am I?"

"You are."

He gives me a sly smile. "We don't talk to our teammates like that, here, you know."

Straightening up to my height, I look down at him. I say, "Go fuck yourself, Russo, and do not waste my time."

He stands up and says to me, staring right at me, "I am not wasting any time."

I push back my hair, frustrated. "What do you want?"

"For you to back off from this team," he states, crossing his arms over his chest.

I tilt my head and say, "I do not think that's your decision to make."

"As a vice-captain, I think it is."

I smirk when I correct him, "Ex-vice." His expression drops. "Yes, Russo, I know Nick took you off as the vice yesterday."

"It was just a disagreement."

"Disagreement that led to you taken off your position? Doesn't seem much like a disagreement."

He steps closer and says, sternly, "What about you getting in this team? Surely, this wasn't anything to do with your father—"

"Do not even try to pick a fight with me, Russo." I look at him, calmly, even though the atmosphere is turning red, slowly.

He leans forward. "Then, do not try to get in my way."

"Or what?" I move closer, looking at him.

I have fought before—a lot of times, actually. Whether drunk or not, I have been put behind the bars for some nights for fighting. I am not proud of it but I am not going to deny the fact that I know I give one good fight.

Benjamin Russo, desperately, is asking for a fight with me. I, as fuck, do not know what is his problem with me but I will not hesitate to break his fucking jaw, some rib bones, and of course, that bloody nose. Thirty seconds max.

Give him a black eye too, Stupid—no, make them two.

Her soft yet stern voice in my mind pulls me out of all of my murderous thoughts. I know, certainly, she is at home and probably getting dressed up for the party later but it feels so real that I turn to look.