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-24- A Target

Holt Jacobs

The locker room is hard for me to manage. The noises, the close proximity, the nakedness.

On the days Coach Mo leaves to do whatever it is he does, I loiter outside, shooting hoops or running more sprints until guys start to filter out. But some days he doesn't leave immediately, instead barking at us to shower and change and rest up for the following practice as he stays rooted in the gym. I have to listen to him. Today is one of these days. So I follow everyone else into the locker room, my heart slamming in my chest, eyes down, praying that no one will draw attention to me. 

It doesn't always work out in my favor.

For some reason, Ian has chosen me as a target.

I stumble forward, my body slamming into the metal lockers, it echoes through the locker room. I feels hands press into my back and all at once panic floods my body as face meets the cool metal sending my thoughts to the basement and the cold concrete floor. My heart is instantly stampeding, my lungs devoid of air.

"What the fucks your problem?" I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck as he holds me pinned.

He's been more pissed than normal at me ever since Coach Mo put us on the same team to scrimmage.

But I'm not fighting. I'm not a fighter. And I can't breathe.

"Leave him alone Ian."

"This punk ass kid thinks he can come in here and suck up to Coach Mo, make us all lo-"

I squeeze my eyes shut, I'm definitely panicking and I can't stop it. All I can smell is his cigar and the musty scent of the basement as it clouds all of my senses. His boots scrap against the cold cement floor, I shiver, tears filling my eyes as I wait for him to dole out my verdict. I know I'm already guilty, I always am. I'm just not sure what I did this time.

But as I stand there, waiting, terrified, my face still smashed against the cold metal, I feel the weight against my back pull away. I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't open my eyes. I'm sure I'm still in the basement. Im still waiting for him to do something. I'm positive he's still here.

"Holt man, you good?" A hand lands on my shoulder and I jump so hard I nearly scale the lockers. "Whoa buddy, calm down."

I let out a strangled gasp, desperate to get air into my lungs before I black out.

"Sit down dude."

I'm not sure how I manage to get there but I somehow find the bench in the middle of the lockers. I grip the wood beneath me until my fingers ache and my muscles shake. I can't open my eyes, I still can't breath. I know I'm doing a shit job of keeping myself under control. I know that they'll ask questions. I've already drawn attention to myself but I also know that I can't let myself escalate beyond what I already have. Appearances are everything and this...I am ruining everything.

I try to stop my mind from taking me back to the basement.

"Ian's in the showers man. It's just you and me." I think it's Drew.

If it's Drew, if it's anyone from school that means I'm not in the basement. He's not at school. My heart is still pounding but I almost manage a deep breath. My eyes opening moments later. Everything's blurry but I am in the locker room, it is Drew, I'm not in the basement.

"You good man?"

I nod my head, embarrassed I lost it like that. Terrified I lost it at all, I know better but I can't seem to keep it under control. I just keep getting worse and worse at it. Ian's been relentless but this was the first time he put his hands on me. I shove my hands in my sweaty hair, fisting it at the roots as I try to regain my composure. It feels futile though and I know one small thing will push me over.

"He's just jealous you're better than him." Drew tells me from where he stands in front of an open locker. He's one piece of clothing away from being naked so I stare at the floor. "How did you get so good? At basketball?"

I don't know why I said it. I had plans not to tell anyone. Maybe it's because I'm still lingering on the verge of panic but I hear myself say "juvy". Instantly regret forms in my chest and I think of all the ways he'll punish.

"You were...in juvy?" Drew repeats slowly.

He's probably judging me, thinking I'm some delinquent, into drugs or something. I'm not but I don't tell him otherwise. I needed to go to juvy.

"Yeah."

Voices from the other guys grow near and I know I'm about to be surrounded soon.

"What'd you do to land yourself there?"

My eyes snap shut, memories of that night spring to the forefront of my mind. I did what I had to do.

"Land himself where?" Ryan asks.

I can feel eyes on me but I still can't bring myself to open my eyes or look at anyone. My throat is tight and I feel what little control I have start to falter again. I remind myself to hold it together.

"What're we talking about?" Ty speaks this time.

"What the fuck? He cried?" Ian. That's Ian.

"Hey man, I'd watch out. Your boy you're so hell bent on torturing was in juvy."

I tighten my hands into fists, I've messed up. This is another mistake. Too many mistakes. Just like that I'm slipping farther into an attack.

"What'd he go to juvy for?" Ian asks.

"Beats me, ask him."

Even though I'm not looking I can feel the shift in the room as everyone directs all of their attention on me. I don't want to tell them. But I know that Ian will not let it go, it's not in his nature. That's why he won't leave me alone.

My heart is pounding again though I'm not sure it ever stopped, and I feel anxiety creep up my spine, fanning out to all of my extremities, making all the hair on my body stand at end. I stand from the bench, knowing I need to get out of the locker room and away from everyone before I completely lose it. I stuff a couple things in my gym bag, I'm aware I'm looking at what I'm doing but I can't see anymore. All I can see is the room in the basement, the cement floor, the lack of windows.

"What'd you do?" The sound of Ian's voice intrudes on my ugly thoughts.

I close the locker, hiking my bag onto my shoulder as I suck in a breath that's more of a gasp than anything.

"Huh? What'd you do golden boy?" Ian appears in my face which only adds to my worsening state. "I bet he's making shit up, I mean look at him, he's about to shit his pants."

I feel bile rise in my throat, threatening to spew out all over Ian and the towel that's tied around his waist. But when I open my mouth it's not vomit that comes out, it's the truth.

"I beat a cop."

And no sooner do the words leave my mouth, I'm sprinting. I burst through the door to the locker room, echoes of voices chasing me down the empty hallway causing me to run faster. Panic is blurring the edges of my vision as I reach the doors to the school, stumbling through them as I gasp for air but my lungs can't seem to suck any in.

This is bad.

I don't make it far, collapsing to my hands and knees in the courtyard of the school. My chest is on fire but I force myself up, tripping as I continue to distance myself. I've gotten good at keeping my panic attacks private. Of keeping my shit together in front of people, or at least most of my shit. But this was close, too close. It was bad enough Mrs. Lincoln witnessed one. And now one more secret is out.

                               ————————

Did I scare you guys? Were you all biting your nails going "will she update? What happened? What will we do without daily updates?"

Have no fear! I'm here. My morning ran off with me but I leashed that bitch and got it under control.