"Everything is fine until you come back." He mutters, kicking a rock.
"Some people never get to come back."
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In which two lonely people find company in one another, even if they are opposites.
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"So wake me up when it's all over. When I'm wiser and I'm older. All this time I was finding myself and I didn't know I was lost."
-Wake Me Up, Avicii.
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"For the last time, Donte, square your shoulder more." I say, very tired. It has been a long week. Between having exams this week, basketball coaching, and sleeping, me and Parker haven't been able to do anything else yet. To be honest I was a little lonely this week with all the studying by myself. Parker had given me a taste of companionship and I didn't want the taste to end.
It was drugging.
He was drugging.
The bell rings. "Alright, boys, you know what that means, practice over, go home. Don't forget practice on Monday! We have our first game on Thursday!" Coach yells at them. He nods at me and I go to the changing rooms. I change back into normal clothes and sigh as I walk out.
"Boo!" Parker yells as I exit the locker rooms. I don't jump. I blankly stare at him.
"Not in the mood." I say emotionlessly and brush past him.
"It's like when I take a step with you, we take two steps back?" he says in a confused tone.
"No, no, I'm just tired. Studying, coaching, homework, an 1000 worded essay." I grumble.
"Thhhaaaaaattttt sucks, but guess what I got?" He asks, holding up a bottle with a wooden cork and a bunch of paper and a pen. "Come on." He says with a smile. I follow him to his car and sigh as my back hits the comfortable leather seat.
"Get it out." He says, plopping the stack of paper on my laps and handing me the pen.
Dear everybody and nobody,
Hey stranger. Wow, the term suddenly has a new meaning to me. I don't know who you are, but thanks for reading this little fun thing here. Trust me, it wont be fun, in fact this is going to be depressing, because I'm going to tell you the story of my life.
So let's take it all the way back to when I was a wee fetus. My mother died giving birth to me. My brother had been 17. My dad was so angry and blind with grief that he blamed it on me, so he left. I have yet to see him since, though he's tried contacting me.
So, my 17 year old brother grew up sooner than I wish he'd had to. He raised me, paid for my schooling, had about three steady jobs to pay for his own schooling along with paying apartment rent and food and bills. When his schooling was up, he got a call one day from a company named Rolex. He'd on a bet applied to be a model, and he didn't expect to get it because it was a joke, but he did. He is now known as the model Ty Smith. Pretty famous. He's happily married to his wife, Sally, who just got pregnant. He says when modelling starts to fail, he's going to become a basketball coach - what he'd studied for.
