Game Theory × NH

026 | iron

"When did you become so smart?"

"I've always been smart. You're just old enough now to see it."

My face was wet from tears and I just hoped it was clear from any snot I may have left behind from when I whipped my nose with my hand. I looked around the room for some tissues but didn't seem to find any.

"Oh, god, I'm a wreck," I said with a chuckle.

"Sometimes it's good to be a wreck," Grandma said with a smile in her voice. "It's got to be getting late over there, isn't it? I should really let you get some sleep for the new week."

"Thanks for letting me cry to you. Kind of a crappy conversation."

"Not at all, darling. There is no such thing as 'crappy' when it comes to you," she said which made me laugh. "Now get some sleep. Oh, and for your next soccer game, kick some arse for me. Did I use that right? Do they say that over there in England?"

"Yes they do," I said, laughing at her ignorance. "Goodnight, Grandma."

We hung up and I hopped off the washing machine, attempting to wipe my face from any tears and snot. I then exited the laundry room and back into the lobby area where people were sitting in the comfortable chairs with their laptops resting on their legs or on a table doing some kind of school work. Some of them looked up when I entered and I quickly looked away, making my way to the elevator.

I had been out jogging before I called my grandma, only to be interrupted shortly into the run by the rain. I stayed out as long as I could but when it started to thunder, I figured that was my time to call it a night.

As I waited for the ding of my floor, I let my mind wander.

It was the middle of the soccer season. I had maybe six more games until Christmas. I was honestly excited for the break. Soccer was tiring me out more and more this year, probably because of the useless drama that I have seemed to be put in the middle of or for the fact that I wasn't playing against girls anymore, but muscle toned, six foot something, testosterone filled boys.

When I got onto my floor and walked down the hall, I passed one of the kitchens just as my stomach started to growl. Taking a chance, hoping someone had left something in the fridge for me to steal for a snake; I stepped through the doorway and turned the lights on.

The moment florescent lighting lit up the yellow tiled kitchen, two figures in the corner next to the microwave broke away from each other.

I opened my mouth to apologize for interrupting their little make out session, but my voice betrayed me when I saw who the two people were.

I noticed Matt first, his messy light brown hair even more unruly. His brown eyes were wide as he looked at me in shock. I didn't understand why he looked so scared until I focused on the person he was with. The guy was slightly taller than Matt with short chestnut hair and an array of freckles up his arms.

I didn't know who the boy was, but clearly Matt knew him pretty well.

"I'll, uh, come back later," I said once I was able to speak.

Before Matt could say anything, I turned the lights off once again and left the kitchen.

Thinking back from when I first met Matt at the party after my last game playing for UCLA, I never would have pegged him as anything other than straight. But there was no denying what I witnessed when I first turned on the lights.