Priceless

Chapter 1: The Price of Losing

Chapter 1: The Price of Losing
[Aidan]

"HIKE!"

I took off.

Even though I felt like rolling over and giving up, I kept running. I kept running and trying because that's what you do. It's in our human nature to try and try again even when we continue to fail. We persevere and we go on.

My cleats pounded into the grass below me, gripping on to what ground they could as I pushed myself to run faster down the field. This play depended on me, and I had to make it work or this would all be for nothing.

I glanced up very briefly to link eyes with my teammate, Brett, who planned to pass the football to me. As soon as our gazes connected, the pass was set in motion.

The football was soaring through the air ahead of me, and in that second, I knew that I couldn't run fast enough to catch it.

Of course, even though I was one of the best players on the team, every player had to make mistakes; this pass was most likely going to be one of many.

The ball was coming closer now. In a last ditch effort to catch it, I dove backwards and threw my arms up, but it went straight over me and hit the ground. In defeat, I slumped on the ground and grunted.

"Smooth, Aidan," I chastised myself.

No sooner than I whispered that did an opposing player in a blue jersey come up behind me and kick me in the side brutally. Dang, that kid needed to buy some less violent cleats.

Blue-Jersey Boy sniggered and said, "Nice going, fat-ass. That move'll win you the game for sure."

Fat-ass. A pang went through my chest at his words. I don't think the kid realized how much of an impact those words had on me in that moment. Instead of running away from the scene like I wanted to, I plastered on a fake smile and turned around to smile at Blue-Jersey Boy, taunting, "That was just a warm-up, kid. Watch out, because this team is going to beat your sorry ass in a second."

And with that comment, I ran back to my team and prepared for another play.

•••••

After the game, which our home team won 29-24, I couldn't get out of those awful locker rooms fast enough. I had witnessed too many freshman get beat up against the cold metal lockers, one being myself in my freshman year. A few upperclassmen had cornered me because they thought I stole some condoms they kept in their backpacks. I knew that it wasn't me, but I couldn't say anything because that would have provoked them further. What was a fifteen year old going to do with condoms anyway?! I chuckled at the memory.

While walking to my locker at the back of the room, several guys were coming out of showers with just towels. Some guys leaving the showers had no clothes on at all. No shame, I guess. However, no matter how much I was exposed to it, I hated changing in front of other guys. I always felt like I was being judged or criticized by how I looked. My lanky body was fit and muscular, but I had nothing on some of these huge football guys.

Finally, I had arrived at my locker. Angry at where my thoughts were headed, I chucked my helmet and cleats into my duffle bag and threw it into my locker. It made a loud clanging noise and I winced.

My friend Brett noticed my attitude and said, "Hey, Aidan, chill. We just won a game. What's got your panties a twist?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

Throughout high school, I had been through many hard times, and Brett was constantly by my side. If he could tell I was having a particularly bad day, all it took was a pat on the back from him to make the day a little more bearable. Brett didn't know shit about my past because he never asked any questions, but I know he would have my back no matter what.

"Yeah, totally fine. Just wanna get to the post-game party is all," I played it off.

Brett looked at me skeptically before showing off a wide Cheshire Cat grin. "Whatever you say, man. And hey, can I put my duffle bag in your locker again tonight? Forgot the combination again. It's probably all the drugs!" He jumped up and down like a maniac.

"What the fûck, Brett? I thought you never wanted to get into drugs."

"KIDDING! April Fool's Day! I didn't have any drugs. Now, cocaine on the other hand..." Brett stuck his tongue out and pretended he was dead.

"Brett."

His eyes snapped open. "Yeah, Aiddy-Poo?"

"Cocaine is a drug. And it's September."

"Oh," Brett deflated.

I shook my head side to side. Brett was always acting like a little kid. "Man, I think you need to go back to those stupid health classes we took freshman year. You should know this shit."

Brett shifted his weight a little and rolled his eyes as he whined, "I'm sorry, Aiddy! I was just trying to be funny. By the way, if I ever try cocaine, you'll be the first to know! So no worries!" He threw a blue t-shirt over his head. Now fully dressed, Brett stuck his tongue out at me before running out of the locker room.

Yeah, that definitely made me feel better. Sometimes I really worried about Brett... He was a little crazy in the head. Well, a lot.

•••••
[  a/n: possibly triggering content ahead. you have been warned.]

I waited until everybody had left the locker room. I couldn't risk anybody hearing this.

The locker room still smelled like sweaty high school boys and good times, but the atmosphere suddenly got a little too dreary and depressing for me. While walking to the back towards the bathrooms, I noticed an opened box of condoms spilled all over the floor that I had to do a little hurdle over. Boys.

Boys. Usually people stereotype girls as being the moody and crazy ones, but boys could be just as bad. They could be just as emotionally harmful and destructive as girls could be without even comprehending it.

If people knew how much their words hurt me, would they care? Would they stop? Probably not. Words are power.

Words have power over me.

I kept replaying what was said to me during the game when I missed that pass that could have won us the game. Fat-ass. Did he really think that? Was I really fat in his eyes? I definitely wasn't perfect in my eyes. I never was and I never would be no matter how hard I tried.

My hands gripped the edges of one of the toilet seats until my knuckles turned white. Fat-ass. Slowly, I shoved two fingers down my throat and made myself throw up into the toilet like I had so many times before.

It all came up, and with it, so did my respect for myself. You'll always be worthless. You'll always be nobody. Nobody loves you, and nobody ever will.

You're alone.

I threw up again. And again. And again.

Until, finally, I passed out cold on the tile floor.