Addicted [BoyxBoy]

Earned It

"He's not handling it well."

"I can see that," I whispered back, even though there was no chance Murphy could hear me.

"I think," Bobby said after heaving a heavy sigh, "we should take him home."

I nodded without hesitation, feeling bad for the guy. I didn't like seeing Murphy like that; he was the second toughest person I knew.

Hopping into the car, I observed Murphy intently. His head was buried in his hands, elbows shaking against the dashboard he was leaning on. Bobby, calm and collected, sat behind the wheel and began the short drive to Murphy's house.

"Dude, what happened?" Bobby asked almost angrily. I understood his frustration, though: Murphy was team captain, and he had to set an example. Leaving it on Bobby's shoulders was almost criminal. Like drugs.

Murphy stayed silent.

I held my breath, wary of the silence that filled the car. I figured Murphy would wait, to form words that we'd understand. But he didn't speak. Almost as if Bobby didn't say anything. We had pulled up the driveway to his house, still waiting for him to speak. Still no answer.

So, rather than pressing him, Bobby turned towards me.

"Well, if he's off the team, then he isn't playing the homecoming game."

I nodded in understanding, trying to send him a silent signal with my glare: stop talking about it. I could see that Murphy tensed up after Bobby's words. It was making him more upset. I didn't want him to lose his shit.

"Murph. Hey, Murphy," Bobby said, getting Murphy's attention. Murphy just sat there, unmoving except for the slight tremble that his body gave off in waves.

Bobby sighed and turned to me, "Can you sit with him? During the game?"

With that, Murphy's head snapped up. He glanced at Bobby almost murderously, then glanced my way. The pain was evident in his eyes. He was really torn up about not being able to play.

He needed a friend.

I nodded at Bobby, which made Murphy slump back into his original position, minus the shaking.

Bobby looked at Murphy and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He spoke, "Look, man, I know this is tough, but you gotta pull through. You may not be a part of the team, but you're part of my team." He glanced back at me, a little panicky, before continuing, "And I need my team with me."

Murphy heaved a shaky sigh and nodded.

"So take the week until homecoming to just get your shit together. Okay?"

He nodded once more. Bobby looked back at me, the panic still there, glossed over by sadness. It was sad to see our friend this way; what made it worse was that he hadn't even bothered to try and defend his side.

Murphy stayed silent the whole twenty minutes we sat in the car, letting him cry it out. He stayed silent when he helped him up to his room and gave him some breakfast. He stayed silent when we sat with him another hour to make sure he was okay. Not once did he speak, or try and explain. But, then again, how could you explain to anyone a severe fuck-up?

*****

Homecoming came so fast, I almost missed it.

The morning of the homecoming game, I had overslept. I rushed to school with Bobby, not knowing what day it was. Once I got to campus, however, I was fully aware.

Banners, posters, practical graffiti all over the place. "Go Wolves!" was everywhere, giving me some form of temporary dyslexia that left me a little dizzy. Meyer High didn't play around when it came to football. Well, except for on the field, I guess.