Reckless

Chapter 5| Connor Taylor [REWRITTEN]

My friends were already seated at our usual table when I arrived. Trent laughed when he saw my expression. "Okay, what happened? You look like you're about to kill somebody."     

"Sick of dealing with idiots." I tossed my bag on the ground and slumped down onto the bench, putting my head down on the table. "Why even bother taking the subject if you have no interest in it?"

"Curiosity?" Trent offered.

"Totalitarianism?" Scott spoke up.

I raised my head and glared at the pair of them. "I hate you both."

Scott patted my back mockingly. "And yet, it's always you running to us for advice."

"You literally asked me last week if dressing up as a lizard gorilla mutant for your sister's third birthday was a good idea!"

"And what did you tell me then?"

"I told you that's genetic abuse by humans on behalf of reptiles and mammals alike."

"And still, I went out and bought green face paint two nights ago. My costume arrives in the mail sometime this week."

I stared gobsmacked at Scott, demanding, "How are you a real person?"

The brunette leaned back on his seat and grinned, flipping his shades down over his eyes. "It's a gift. Not something that can be taught."

"I think," Trent cut in, "what Scott means to say is that you're fortunate enough to have discovered your passions in high school and have opportunities available to you to pursue them. Not everyone gets that at our age."

"Oh please," I scoffed. "This isn't some political regime. The school aren't chaining teenagers to their desks and demanding they take an interest in something. It's free for all."

"Maybe, but you've known who you are since you were a kid. Soccer is your world. Next to that you're still a straight-A student and the most popular guy in our school. People want to see you succeed."

"You know I don't care about that." I dismissed, not unkindly. "This popularity thing is overrated. So I like soccer. Big deal. So I'm good at math and science. That's just hard work paying off."

"We're not saying you don't work hard." Trent said gently. "You've proven time and time again how dedicated you are just by captaining this team. We're just saying that not everyone understands who they are when they're young the way you do. Taking classes they end up having no interest in is part of figuring that out."

I groaned, shoulders slumping forward on the table. The sun was hot on my back. Soccer practice was going to be a heated mess this afternoon. "Why do you always have to be so smart?"

"Comes with the whole 'best friend' gig." Trent winked.

"Yeah," Scott interjected from the other side of the table. "Besides, if they flunk out, maybe you can tutor them. A little one-on-one action, you know what I mean?" He leaned in close and wiggled his eyebrows at me.

I laughed and shoved his face away. "You're despicable."

The rest of lunch passed by with easy conversation. There was a brief moment of discussing the season and watching Scott try to fit an entire hot dog in his mouth without chewing – bun and all – before the bell rang.

"We still on for practice after school?" Trent asked as we stood from the table.

I scowled, picking small chunks of hot dog out of my hair. "Yes. Don't be late. We've got a lot of work to do."