Alone, No More (Harringrove)

Chapter 4//Room-Mate

"Really?" he asked, resting his chin on the back of the sofa. Max shrugged and leaned against the island in the kitchen.

"I mean, yeah," she said casually, but Steve was blown away by this information. "Both mom and dad drink".

Steve wondered why she hadn't included Billy in that. He assumed he was already a raging alcoholic as well.

"What about Billy? Doesn't he drink?" He asked, maybe getting too nosey.

Expressionless, she gazed at Steve, peeling the orange in her hand and chucking the peel in the trash. Before taking a slice of orange, she sighed.

"Yeah he drinks at parties and stuff," she said nonchalantly. "But never at home".

Steve was silent, then, and after finishing her orange, she said goodnight and went upstairs to lock herself in the spare room. Steve tried to filter Billy out of his thoughts by watching the rest of the game, but somehow couldn't even refocus on his favourite team winning.

Sure Billy had been a grade A ass-hole, but Steve worried he may be acting, or trying to hide his true self-as cheesy as it sounded. Steve knew that feeling all too well. Maybe not in a abusive situational way, but he knew trauma.

The rest of the week went by painlessly. It seemed as though Steve's old friends had moved on and he realized he didn't even miss them. Each day ended with he and Max, on separate couches, watching basketball. They didn't really talk to each other, and Lucas had come over a couple times to be with her. Steve had made them stick to the living room so he could monitor them, to which they groaned and complained about.

Friday meant basketball tryouts, and Steve was more than excited to join the team so as to let off some steam. He arrived a bit earlier than everyone else and began dribbling down the court and doing some lay-ups, to warm up.

Basketball was easier than every other sport for him. He had always been one of the top players and was always voted in as the team captain, but now he wondered if Billy would take his spot. Steve didn't know if he cared much if Billy won; he pitied him more now, than hated him.

After some time a couple more people showed up in their basketball uniform. Tommy, Steve's old friend, sauntered in with some random guy and glared in Steve's direction

Great, Steve groaned inwardly, if it's not one thing....

They began passing a tattered old ball to each other and trying out stupid tricks between their legs. Steve wasn't interested and continued working on his vertical. But when Billy walked in the room, shirtless, everyone stopped what they were doing, including Steve, and stared. The california barbie that he was, caught everyone's attention, no matter what he was doing.

Unaffected, he grabbed a ball from the big rolling basket and began lazily dribbling around the court. Some guys continued staring, but some went back to what they were doing previously. Steve busied himself by spinning the ball on one of his fingers, it was something that Nancy loved that he could do.

"You fags ever seen a guy shirtless?" Billy questioned those who still stared and they quickly looked away and started talking in hushed tones. The blonde strutted himself around the court, unkempt brows touching, his bruises less purple all over his body.

Steve glanced in his direction every once in a while, but chose to be safe and not make him angry. He knew Billy was a ticking time bomb. The air seemed to lighten as soon as the coach made his appearance, calling everyone to stand in a circle.

"Alright, boys," coach started, flipping through some papers on his clipboard. "Welcome to tryouts".

The boys whooped and started high fiving each other, excluding Steve and Billy, and looked to the coach for information. Steve began to feel just a bit insecure, as this year he felt lonely. Last year he was king, this year he was nobody.