The time went on but I didn't notice it. Peter kept doing the thing I know he only does for his father's sake and not for himself. He lets the ball bounce on the floor, shoots it in the ring, and plays some tricks. Sweat was flowing through his body making his shirt's color darker and look heavier. I don't know why but water doesn't really have a color but it darkens clothes when they get wet. That's something for me to overthink about. I was sitting on the floor with my feet crossed together while watching him.
He's like a professional basketball superstar. Maybe it's in their genes. After some moments of shooting the orange ball over and over, he stopped and wiped his sweat. He rose his shirt and used it to dry his shiny forehead and cheeks. His body gets exposed and they're shiny too. Sweat makes people's skin shine? Perchance I should get a lot of sweat.
He walked towards me with his shirt still raised and hands on his waist. He drops it down and then parks himself beside me. Then he groans a little. "Water?" I grabbed my water bottle from my left side and offered it to him. I haven't used this so it's okay if I would give it to him rather than letting him go back to his room after playing. "Thanks." He opened it and then drank.
I saw how his Adam's apple moved every time water falls to his throat. And somehow it drops to his shirt because I didn't close it well. "Thanks." He repeated and handed it on to me. I placed it on my left side and then faced him with my hands on my twisted knees.
"You were good," he unhurriedly looks at me.
"Thanks." He already said that word three times.
"You too." I didn't even play. I nodded but didn't say a word about that question. Instead, I tried to change the topic. "Are you okay playing this game?" I asked, even hesitating to.
"Umm, yeah. Of course. Why did you ask though?" I think he didn't get my question right.
"No, I mean... Peter, I know that basketball is not your thing why do you still play it." We were blown by the wind and it sent goosebumps to my nerves.
"Can we please... not talk about it. I'm not comfortable with it right here." He faked another smile. He's good at it. No, a professional. Because he's used to it; faking smiles when talking to people. And he never gets tired of it.
I rubbed his back, "You can tell me everything. And when I say everything, I mean literally every single thing." The fake smile on his face suits him. Perhaps because it's been there for a long time. "I know but I don't want to talk about it right now." Back then, he told me a few. Like what his father does to him and what his father does when he doesn't obey. But those are the basics. Britney and Shane know something that I don't. And I only know some things about Peter.
I want to use the time we have together to know more about him and I also want him to know more about me. Because we are supposed to be best friends. But seems like he's not interested. Because he hasn't found the comfort in me that he saw in Britney a few years ago.
I kept staring at his eyes, not even blinking, or looking away for a second. I don't want to look away because I want him to see how sincere I am right now. "Fine." He responded after a long moment of my eyes locked on him. He sighed heavily.
"You already know a few, right?" I nodded.
"I don't know what I haven't told you yet, and I don't know where to start." I let him breathe again.
"Well, to answer your question, I actually like basketball." From his words, and the tone of his voice, I know he's lying. Because even if it's not that much, I still know him.
"Tell me the truth," I went closer to him.
"Whatever," he rolled his eyes sarcastically. I feel like I'm controlling and manipulating him right now. As if I'm pushing him to tell me things about himself but I really want to know more. Because honestly, I feel like I know nothing. How am I supposed to help him when I don't know how? "Umm, look Charlie. I trust you so much because you're one of my best friends. It's just that I am scared to tell you."
I frowned. "Scared? Why are you scared? I'm your best friend, not your enemy."
"It's not like that." Though he's demanding, he still sounds like he's calm.
"Then what is it? Why are you scared of telling me the truth? What are you scared of? You told me a few before and now you're uncomfortable?" I think I've gotten too far. I think I'm being rude to him.
"I am scared that you won't understand." He can stay this calm when I'm not calm.
"Scared that I won't understand? But remember when you told me about it when we were kids?" His calmness got over me.
"That's the point, Charlie! We are not kids anymore..." The words hurt me more than they should have.
I'm not supposed to feel this way. But he's my best friend. I know I'm the one who's wrong here. Because I pushed him to tell me things that he's not comfortable talking about. But right now, I feel like he doesn't trust me.
It was a moment of silence around but it stood loud. Our eyes were locked on each other but we aren't saying any words. Until I wanted to ask him, "So you don't trust me anymore?" I pointed out the last word.
"No, it's not like that." Before he can say his next word, a teardrop dripped down from my eyes. They shouldn't. I'm hurt but I shouldn't be. In fact, I have to understand him but I can't. I stood up immediately and walked fast to my room. But I heard Peter behind me trying to catch me saying, "Charlie! Wait, please..."
Why am I even crying?
Because he doesn't trust me like Britney and Shane?
So I'm jealous of them?
Why? How?
I tried to avoid him. I ran as fast as I could through the staircase. It hurts that he doesn't trust me.