Landon's P.O.V
The dark sky parted by fractures of grey light is a reflection of my mood as we drive to Oakfield High. The dullness even seems to seep into the compact space of Lance's sedan as he attempts a conversation at this early hour.
'So are you excited?' He questions for about the tenth time since leaving the house almost fifteen minutes ago.
'I'm excited to go back to sleep,' I give him my best answer yet. He laughs quietly to himself and shakes his head.
'I'm sure you'll do great! I've noticed you've put more effort into your training than usual ... The competition must be brutal, right?'
I turn to look at him and sigh. He was really trying. These last few days he'd attempted to subtly dig around the cause of my deflated mood, seemingly fearful of my reaction if he asked outright. Lance had done ridiculous things like offering to go to the gym with me, playing games on my consoles despite lacking the time and ability and, most recently, driving me to school.
'They're not that bad,' I lie to end our talk.
If it isn't for our thankful arrival at the school gates, Lance would have descended into another futile, one-sided conversation. As soon as the vehicle is stationary, I express my gratitude for the drive and open the passenger door.
'Landon?' Lance halts me just as a leg swings outside where it's viciously attacked by the dawn cold. I immediately draw it back inside.
'Yeah?'
'Good luck out there. Be good and sensible,' he lectures. I roll my eyes but nod anyway, having no premeditations of behaving recklessly. 'And have fun ... I really believe in you, kid.'
For the first time in a while, my features do not feel constricted into an expression of apathy and I smile.
'Thanks,' I tell my stepfather. He mirrors my movement with an affectionate look in his eyes that communicates his appreciation.
'Do you need me to help you with your stuff?' Lance offers after the moment withers away. I take one look at his embarrassing attire of a Superman printed t-shirt and matching pajama shorts.
'Sure.'
We walk the distance to the bus destined to transport us to our competition. I notice Coach standing outside it, a clipboard in his hands and face appearing to be frozen into a scowl. His expression admittedly makes me smile in impulse— the man was a giver of pain and suffering, never the recipient.
'Reeves! I'm freezing my ass off while you sleep in like a princess?!' Growling, he confirms my attendance on the list.
I hide my laughter by loading my luggage into the bus before a last farewell to Lance. I opt for a handshake rather than a hug and enter the heated vehicle.
My tired gaze assesses the space for any empty seats as most are being occupied by sleeping swim team members. I try to isolate Sean and when my eyes eventually locate him, I almost drag him by the ear away from the boy accompanying him.
Ashton.
But, I realize that I cannot control people's actions or desires, no matter how fucked up they seemed. Being the last person to board, I look to Sean with indifferent eyes and a reluctant heart and make my way over to Vicki Jacobs.
'Uh, can I sit here?' I ask, her predictable answer more than obvious beforehand. Nonetheless, I try to be polite.
She seems to instantly wake up from the early stages of her slumber as if I had just injected her with a dose of pure caffeine. 'Yeah, of course! Sure.'
YOU ARE READING
Mr. Superficial (BWWM)
Teen Fiction'Hello my precious Paisley,' I greet maliciously. She looks startled and quickly averts her eyes to the ground. 'Oh sweetheart, are you seriously gonna eat that? Look at yourself. You're big enough,' I say, referring to her weight. Paise frowns a...
