Thirteen years ago
"Hi, I'm Carter." She says, with a smile looking at him, as he looks down at his feet shyly.
"I'm Noah, Noah Scott." He says below a whisper, feeling a blush coast his cheeks. His introduction almost went on heard, but she heard it.
••••
Present time
That's not us anymore.
The ball rolls back and forth between my feet as my body moves across the field.
Moving in a zigzag line to the goal that sits silently at the end of the field waiting for me to hit the ball into the net, one last time, tonight. Then I'm thinking about calling it a night.
I feel my lungs get heavier.
I try to use the breathing technique to control my stamina, that my coach taught me. But It still feels like my lungs are ice, ready to break into a million pieces each time I take a step.
Over the years I've gotten pretty good at running and keeping good stamina but after doing this for a while.
No matter how many techniques you have or learned, your lungs with never fight the inevitable. You'll still feel like you can't breathe.
But sometimes that feeling is an addiction, worse than drugs.
Having sports and running being your escape from everything around you. It's bound to happen.
A groggy sound leaves the back of my throat, feeling my legs burn like wood to a fire, I feel numb, but it's not enough, so I keep moving.
That addiction is starting to kick in, even though you have it in your palm and taking it, your body still tingles with desperation.
I can still think clearly, about everything and everyone. Wish my mind would take the hint and shut down already, even for a split second and maybe I will go inside.
But when it happens my mind, gives up. No problems, no guilt, no rope pulling you back from letting out a scream for help.
It floats away. And I can finally smile.
I don't know the exact time I've been doing this, but I know it's been a while, I started when the sun was setting and it's now officially dark.
I can see the stars but I don't pay them any attention, they remind me of a place, I'm trying to escape from.
The lights, I've set up around the make shift field, I've created in my yard have helped me see after the sun went down.
As gross as this sounds I can feel the sweat dripping from my forehead. I'm too distracted by the ball to wipe it off.
I slow my movements down, ever so slightly, giving the ball a head start before I lift my foot back, before bringing it forward and hitting the ball with the side of my foot with force, making it fly in the air.
I run forward a bit before slowing down and bending forward to rest my hands on my knees.
My eyes stay on the ball as it makes it into the net hitting the back of it with a swoosh.
I let out a sigh, letting the Adrenaline wear off as I check the time on my stopwatch.
I shut my eyes and lift a hand to wipe back the baby hairs that stick to my forehead like glue, while I curse under my breath.
I stand up straight, placing my hand on my hips feeling a heat flash drown down on me. My eyes move to the sky, making eye contact with the moon.
I feels like it's mocking me. Just reminding me of things I don't want to be reminded of.
I let out a few breaths before I head over to the water bottle sitting on the side, next to a towel.
My cheeks are still hot and my body now aches, I don't know if the small breeze helps or not. My mind is too clouded.
I chug down the water, like it's my last before setting it down and letting my eyes go up to my mom's room.
I wonder if she's still awake, which is probably unlikely since she has to go into the restaurant tomorrow.
A rusted sound of a gate that hasn't been fixed in seven years, catches my ear. I keep forgetting to fix it. Moms to busy being, the only one running the house.
I curse the fact that I'm too close to the house to see. As a warm panic kicks in.
I think about turning the corner to see who it is or if it's just the wind or my mind playing tricks on me. I prey that it's the last one, not feeling like getting murdered tonight.
My face falls and a sense of annoyance washes over me, I let go of the grip I had on my water bottle.
I roll my eyes before turning my body back to the field. Letting out a breathe of anxiety. Feeling stupid for thinking anything, but what was in-front of me.
I should have expected it. He's more predicable, than a fucking magician.
"What are you doing here, Scott?" I say, walking back onto my makeshift field.
"I was walking past and I saw the lights." He points backward, I turn my body seeing him stand next to the patio window so I can see him.
Not that I want to see him I wish for anything but at the moment.
My eyes move down his frame seeing he's wearing a black or grey hoodie I can't really see since the lighting is really bad, And some black basketball shorts.
He looks like he just threw this stuff on, out of laziness.
His hair is all over the place meaning he probably just woke up, or he was laying down. I don't care to ask. Just an observation.
Like the glasses that are sliding halfway down his face that his mom keeps telling him to get fixed.
"Well, the clue is solved, Nancy drew, have a nice walk," I say, moving my eyes away from him and picking up the ball that's laying outside of the net.
I walk back to the center of my makeshift field and throw the ball down along with the other one I picked up.
"Are you okay?" He asked, I kick the other ball laying outside of the goal over to the middle.
"Why do you care?" I asked, hastily. He places both hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
"I don't. But your goal is wobbly and makes a noise every time you miss and it's really fucking annoying." My jaw slacks at his stupid excuse.
"You don't even live on this block, I think you'll be fine." I tilted my head before letting out a grunt as I kicked the balls I've lined up in the center of the makeshift field.
"And the other people on this block, Star?" He asked like he knew it all. I kick the next ball in the row before turning to him.
"Well, they're not in my backyard telling me to stop. So, all good neighbors hood watch." I place my hands on my hips, letting out a few heavy breaths. Before sending the ball towards the goal.
But a foot stops it before it could make it in. My eyes trail up meeting his green eyes protected by a pair of reading glasses, that fits his face perfectly.
He slides the ball back bringing it onto the top of his shoe before kicking it up and grabbing it with his hand. I raise my eyebrows with an unamused look.
"It was going to make it in," I say, wiping the sweat off my forehead.
"Probably. Yeah." I huff, before turning my gaze for a second before bringing it back to him.
"Okay, what do you want?" I ask, not having it anymore, it's late and my legs hurt, the only thing that could make it worse is him. And low and behold here he is like a dog wanting attention.
"I don't want anything." He shrugs, innocently. Placing the ball under his arm, I scoff calling his bull.
"Just give me the ball Scott and be on your Merry way," I say, sticking a hand out for him to place it in my hand.
"I will, only if you go inside after I leave." He adds at the end. And I scoff.
"And why does that concern you?" I ask, feeling my legs getting tired. I would never admit it, at least not right now. But I'm getting tired and I still do not know the time.
"It doesn't but you want me to leave don't you?" He raises a brow to bargain. I think about it for a second, doing a quick pros and cons list, before letting out a sigh of defeat.
"Whatever, just get out of here," I say, and he grins.
"Okay, then." He takes the ball from under his arm and throws it to me, I bend a little bit to catch it.
"Night, Star." He is the last thing he says, before turning his body and heading out the way he came, I let out a breath before rolling my eyes and starting to pick up my mess.
Asshole.
As I said, we are so far apart.
We aren't the kids who stood in front of each other with shy smiles nor are we living in that fantasy land we created so long again.
We predicted a future together but What we didn't predict is that we don't even like each other now. The version we created over the years. Turn dark.
But I don't think about that now.
What I think about is how you despite everything haven't changed at all. But you have.
The version of you I liked when we were kids is now the version I hate of you the most.
••••