Tate and I were fake.
I had a fake personality...
She had a fake name...
Sometimes I wondered how much of our truths were lies without us knowing...
But at the same time I knew that Tate and I were real in the moments that mattered, in the moments o...
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It was hours after Tate fell asleep that the guilt from overhearing his conversation hit me. It hadn't been intentional. I'd put off my music and readied myself to pack up when I heard him speaking to his friend, Arthur.
It wasn't important but there was a way he spoke...
Strangely feminine.
But speculations wouldn't get me anywhere and it was clearly a conversation I was not supposed to hear, so I was at odds. Curiosity versus Respect.
Well, Old habits die hard so I didn't confront Tate about it.
What happened however was much worse.
"Dante, can I ask you something?"
We were in the library beside Andre who had been lost since he returned yesterday from his Tennis hunt. It was odd.
Really odd.
"Sure," I was indulging in the joy of Italian language when Tate said, "Could you give me pointers about basketball?"
I froze.
What?
My answer was automatic, "No."
"Why not?" He was persistent, "You're apparently the best in the school and I'm trying to get into the main school team."
I felt like vomiting. Blinding lights from everywhere... the pressure of playing and leading a team... the dry heaving after each match.
"Dante," Coach had said, "I've spoken with Annette about your participation in the club and I want to hear your opinion."
"I am no longer in the Basketball club, so there's no debate." I turned to leave.
"You never resigned-"
"Well, I'll submit the letter to you first thing tomorrow-"
"Dante... sit."
I had stared at her for two minutes before I took my seat on the rickety wooden bench by the wall.
Coach Samantha began to pace, "I don't know why you refused to play... but Dante you have talent-"
"I won't play-"
"I respect that," She glared at me, "So be a student coach."
"What?"
"Be a coach, that way you can impart your knowledge and technique to the team."
I rose like the seat was on fire, "That's not going to happen! I refuse!"
"Take it as an apology..." She spat at me, "For betraying the team that believed in you."
"That's emotional blackmail." I whispered but she shrugged.
"Take it however you please... but think about it."
