Trying To Endure

Chapter Fourteen

SONG: The Neighbourhood - Sweater Weather

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April Levesque

Jackson Saint hurls the basketball to Roy. He fluently catches it, dives, swerves to the net, dribbles and shoots just as the end dings. Edgewater Independent students fracture into elation. The first time they won against Brixton Bay. 

Our team sprints to Roy, hollering, whooping, heaving their leader onto their shoulders. But I am focused on the other blond, ripping off his shirt to dry his sodden hair, exposing his narrow frame of neat, gapped tattoos. He put more effort into the game than any other player. 

It's sad to see that he doesn't receive the praise he deserves.

The Matthews approach their friend, clapping him on the back and congratulating him. I smile in my seat. Meeting Roy's, it involuntarily drops, and he winks. I swallow bewildered bile, catching a glimpse of Ines Chey staring. She peeks at Roy, displeased.

Before the game, she intercepted Roy and me at a stoplight, her car beside. I ducked under, startled, and Roy zoomed in the second orange flared. 'She didn't see,' he promised. 'I don't think she did.'

Roy dropped me off a few blocks from the school. I waited in the liveliness for the car to properly disappear and then began walking. Ines's grey Porsche halted on the sidewalk, which startled me. She lowered the window, and requested if I wanted a ride. I hesitated. My heart pulsed in wonder if she saw us together. Inside, she confirmed it and tsked, 'You better not, girl.'

'What?' I muttered.

'What?' she rippled. Dark-ripped jeans, her boyfriend's basketball hoodie, shiny hair in a bun, sequins dotted alongside her sharp-angled eyeliner, lips in a dark maroon shade. 'Babe, why do you bother with that dick?'

'Ines, I appreciate you looking out for me. But it's complicated.'

'I've said that before.' Her hands tightened on the wheel at the thought of Holden. 'Is it true, or are you saying that to make yourself feel better?'

That silences me.

Both?

'This isn't a joke,' she said worriedly. 'Roy fucking assaulted you—'

'I know,' I whispered.

'Is he forcing you—'

'No.'

'Then why are you with him?'

Tears burned my eyes. Since the memorial, I put my energy into my conversations with Roy. He seemed to comprehend what he did was immoral, and it is difficult to figure out if it was his true colours showing, or if it was a forced Jekyll.

I took him to the funeral.

He made me feel beautiful. Loved. Wanted.

I took him to his funeral.

He made me laugh. Smile.

I took him to Mike's funeral.

He wiped my tears.

I took him to Mike's fucking funeral.

'I don't know,' I whispered. Is it even to find out what he did anymore?

'Can I be honest with you? I think you're too nice, which is good. But it's dangerous. It can make you naive, sometimes ignorant in order to be happy. People can take advantage of you. I know it because—' Her eyes darkened in pain. 'Almost everyone I know had shit they faced.' Fixated on the road, she reached and interlinked our hands together. 'Realise who deserves your forgiveness. Roy isn't the one. Those bitches, too. Look, maybe you're afraid of change.' The word brought a heart burn. 'I understand. I'm afraid of it, too—'