Unrequited love

Nineteen | Colten

So because I receive attention because of my sport and not academic awards, people think less of me. It's never bothered me anyways. It's not like I do anything out of external validation because where's that gonna get me? People are assholes, I had to get that I'm my head a long time ago. Especially relatives. I only played basketball because they made me. Ironic isn't it.

Because I'm tall my parents forced me to play tones of different 'tall people sports' like volleyball, rugby, basketball of course and others.

I only stuck with basketball because Damon happened to love it so I had a friend. We made friends with the others soon after we joined the middle school team and we grew close. They kept me playing and grew my love for it and without them I'd have most likely dropped it like the other sports.

Thankfully I didn't and I continued it because now it's one of the only things that keep me happy anymore. Everything else brings me nothing but so much goddamn stress. I lack outlets and it's starting to get to me because I have so much pent up frustration that I can't seem to get a hold of.

A lot of it comes from feelings and shit that I haven't shared with anymore else. It's always so uncomfortable to expressed yourself to someone in that way. I don't know why.

Hearing my door open I flinch before looking up to see Katie entering the room with a bag over her shoulder making me realized she changed.

Well I changed too but she was originally wearing an grey hoodie and loose fitted pants and her hair was down almost covering her face when we where at school. Now her hair is almost completely out of her face besides a few strands which compliments her loose ponytail. It's being held up by a beige hair claw that matched the beige color of her sweater.

Her jeans fail to match her old pair. They remain tightly fitted around her thighs and down to mid thigh before it becomes lose near the bottom. I don't think I've seen her in anything besides what she was wearing at school in a while so this is new.

'Your mom let me in...' she breaks the silence before closing the door behind her and looking around the room. It's decorated in darker colors but I wouldn't say it's as dark as Damon's room. Following where her attention lies, I'm only now realizing that my shelves and walls are practically drenched in medals, photos and awards. How humble of me.

Strolling past my dresser, she brushes her fingers against the basketballs I keep on separate stands. They're all different and have signatures across each one. Watching her realize they're signed she moves her hand away quickly. 'Where are these from?'

'They're autographed from my favorite teams,' I respond as I watch her look around some more, 'me and the rest of the team got them signed since we blew a shit tone of money to go to get VIP passes just to meet the players...doesn't your brother also have his?'

'Ah yes actually. He does,' she nods as if she's just remembering, 'he got them put up on these wall stands so I can't reach them.'

Laughing under my breath, it seems like something he would do. Sitting down on the chair next to mine, she slides it's closer before he lacing her bag on her lap.

'I brought some of my stuff,' she gets straight into the task at hand. 'I'm not sure how long I'll be here for but I've got some questions if that's alright?'

Leaning my elbow against the desk I rest my chin on my hand watching her, 'you can ask anything and I'll explain,'

'Thanks,' she says not looking at me, instead she takes out her books before resting her water bottle to the side. Organizing her things it sinks in that it's around five thirty so I wonder how her brother reacted to her coming here.

I know her parents wouldn't mind though since they've made it clear that they love me. Which is a given since they've known me since Damon was eight or something like that so they still see me as this pure little kid. I'm not that kid anymore but I certainly do not mind them thinking that.

'So I was wondering...' she asks me as she flicks through her workbook. Taking in how organized her notes are it suddenly makes sense why she doesn't understand a lot. She most likely pays more attention to the aesthetic than the notes themselves. I used to stress over organization during my first years. Regretted it since it's all I thought about and I barely retained the content. Now I work with a system which works for me and doesn't require me thinking about how my notes look anymore. Though it does seem like she really cares about school so I wonder what caused her grade for the last test.

Letting her talk to me I help her though her work. Trying to write down methods in her workbook I attempt to mimic her handwriting since her notes look neat. Changing up the handwriting would make it look awkward.

Noticing she tells me I don't have to but I ignore her and proceed to do it my way. Knowing her as little as I really do, what I do know is that she's not a fan of change so I won't ruin it.

She used to complain when things would be different and when we where younger, she'd cry when I wouldn't follow the ice-cream pattern. She would order strawberry, I'd order vanilla and Damon would order chocolate. It was either that or we ordered exactly what she wanted so she didn't feel left out.

Obviously someone can only eat so much vanilla ice cream and wanted to have something different but she would start crying because I 'broke the pattern' so continued to do what she wanted to make her happy. We where just kids but I never complained, I jut wanted her to be happy.

Though we don't do that anymore, I sometimes I still catch myself ordering vanilla out of pure habit. I only notice once I taste it and I realize how shitty it actually is.

We don't even talk anymore in general now that I think about it, not that we ever did talk to begin with. Before right now the last time we had a conversation alone, with no one around us, I had to pick her up from Brylan's house last year.

An hour and a half goes by and in that time we had finished two chapters.

'Okay that's the end of chapter 18 of the cells...do you want to start chapter 25 now?' I ask her as I close the book and reach for the other one.

Not responding to me I look down at her and she looks pretty much drained. I don't want to do anything either. 'Can we take a break actually?' She hums.

'Yea sure,' I reassure her as she grabs her water bottle and takes a sip from it. We stay quiet for a few seconds making me realize us doing actual work was killing the awkward energy and now it's coming back. Maybe I should've said no.

'Come on lets go,' I say as I move to dresser and take out a hoodie so I can put it on. Originally I was wearing a baggy white top and jeans but I'm going to want to wear a hoodie since it's cold outside right now.

'Go where?' She laughs before looking out the window at how dark it is, 'it's almost eight pm on a school night,'

'Where I want to go isn't that far,' I respond as I grab my wallet next to one of the basketballs.

'come on it's like a five minute walk I swear,'