𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃

64 | nothing more and nothing less

Nox

Three years ago...

I haven't seen Yoongi after the night he took me to the hospital.

It was kind of him to drive me to the nearest clinic where I could get my leg checked and it turned out I sprained my ankle when I fell back at that disgusting alleyway as I was trying to fend for myself against my attacker. Unfortunately, that meant I had to skip on volleyball practice to let myself heal, but I couldn't afford doing that.

For the first three days or so, I continued to practice with the rest of the team as scheduled, but then I fell during a jump, so Coach forced me to take a break for the upcoming week. She told me to stay away from the court for as long as I needed because they needed me as their decoy to be in perfectly good shape to make it to Nationals.

Besides, taking a break from volleyball practice gives me the opportunity to focus more on my studying. It would be incredibly helpful if I could physically focus; it's simply impossible for me to concentrate. It's hard to focus on anything regarding my schoolwork when you're dyslectic and the worst part is that I keep getting called lazy by my teachers. The irony is that they're licensed professionals, so isn't it their duty to help a student who's facing learning difficulties? Instead I keep getting talked down about my results and how I'm not producing any results in my academics.

Usually, I feel more motivated to study when I'm at the school library, because it's quiet and neither my brother nor my father are here to distract me. A groan of despondence leaves my mouth in the dimmed lit hallway. My back crouches against the chair causing my cropped mint green shirt to ride up my torso as I look down at the opened textbook on my desk. I have an essay to write about 'Lolita' and I can barely make it past the fifth page. Not when my mind focuses intently on the text in front of me, only to suddenly get distracted by intrusive thoughts about literally the most random things and while my eyes are reading the pages, my mind isn't processing any of the information they contain, so I'm forced to return back to square one.

I might not have read the entire book but based on what I know from the synopsis is that Humbert was a sick fuck. The sorry excuse of a man was serially defiling his adolescent stepdaughter-a child. I don't even want to read the damn book, but I'm forced to do so because I need a passing grade for English Lit otherwise, I won't be able to play volleyball.

I slam my book shut in frustration then shove it in my bag before getting off the chair. Slinging my backpack, I pace between endless aisles of bookshelves, with my jacket in hand. Whatever remaining light the sunset emits gets soaked in these halls, the wooden floors and millions of pages of books that remain untouched in such a vast space. Even though, I don't read a lot of books, I can appreciate movies, so I'll probably watch the movie to write the essay. What my teachers don't know won't kill them and besides, it's not like I'm aspiring to get a perfect flawless grade. I just need to pass the class, just enough so that I get to play on Nationals.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I reach for it when I see a text by Elijah. He's just checking in to see if I'm doing alright, but I don't answer him. If I tell him that I have trouble writing the essay about Lolita he's going to make a huge deal out of it or worse.

He's going to offer to help.

A cold breeze hits my back and I shiver as I push the library door open. I step outside into the steps that lead towards the school's parking lot when I decide to head over to the volleyball court. Coach hasn't found us an indoors court yet, but I know she's still working on finding us a place to train where we won't have to check the weather forecast every two minutes.

My ankle still feels tender and sore and with each step that I take, my footing is wobbly. I've downed my painkillers for the day, so all I must do is be a good kid and don't fuck up my leg further. How hard could it be to sit still and do what I'm good at, which is absolutely nothing?