After my talk with Vick, I go back to my room, having lost the momentum to keep working out. Leo's in the bathroom, so I gather my stuff. When he comes out, he gives me a sad smile. "Hey."
"Hi." I shift my stuff to one arm so I can put the other around his waist and bring him closer. I touch my forehead to his, closing my eyes and exhaling slowly. He cups my cheek, stroking it with his thumb.
"Is this about...?"
I nod a little, squeezing my eyes shut as they start to burn with tears. It feels so, so wrong to take this win away from him. He's worked hard, he deserves it, and he needs the money. I definitely don't need the money. My parents may never be home, but whatever business is keeping them away certainly pays well. And the only thing I can think about is how badly I want him to get away from wherever he's living now. My heart, my entire chest, hurts so badly whenever I even begin to think about how he got those scars.
"Tyler," he says in a quiet, soothing voice. "It's okay. This is what I want. And I'll be fine, because there's a cash prize for second as well, so I'll get something either way. Don't worry about it."
I don't respond. I checked out the cash prizes for first and second: second gets exactly half of the amount of money that goes to first. Which means that he'd have double the amount of money if he got first than if he got second. And it's a significant enough amount that that difference is not trivial.
"It'll be fine, Tyler. It'll be okay. Don't worry about it."
A tear slips out, and then two more. I release a shaky breath. "Yeah. Okay."
He brushes the tears away and puts both arms around my neck. "Tyler," he whispers quietly. "Don't worry." He nudges my nose with his, and my chest hurts even more- if I win that tournament, I'll be essentially taking money away from Leo- money that this beautiful, sweet boy in front of me needs. I let out a choked sob, and he pushes everything I'm holding out of my arms, hugging me tightly. I bury my face in his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his waist as firmly as I can.
"Leo, I can't..." I whisper between sobs, and he stiffens.
"Tyler. Don't do that. We agreed on this yesterday. It's what I want. This is how I want it to go."
I shake my head a little. "Leo... you can't ask me to..."
He pulls away a little and looks me directly in the eyes. "I can and I am. I want it this way. I don't want you to let me win, Tyler."
"But you'll let me win?"
"No. We talked about this. We said we won't avoid getting pinned. Either of us could win."
"I shouldn't win, though. I don't need it," I whisper.
He shakes his head firmly. "I don't want you to let me win. If you have any respect for me, you won't try to throw the final match tomorrow."
"Of course I respect you, Leo."
"Good. Then stop thinking about it."
I sigh and nod, and he wraps his arms around me again, embracing me tightly. I hold him close to my chest and try to put it out of my mind.
Eventually, I do end up showering, where I cry more (but silently, this time) before finally scrubbing my face clean of all evidence of tears and getting out. We spend the night cuddling in his bed. We might watch Big Bang Theory, but I'm not focusing on it. I'm sure he notices that I'm holding him more tightly than usual, but he doesn't bring it up again.
I fall asleep in his bed, with him curled up to my chest. In the morning, we both get up and decide to go our separate ways until the match (we don't explicitly say it, but I'm pretty sure it's so that I don't break down again). He leaves, and I stay in our room for a little longer to try and compose myself before going outside.
I'm about to leave when I hear a soft dinging noise. Eager for literally anything to take my mind off of the match, I check my phone. There's nothing on the lock screen, and when I unlock my phone, there are no new notifications. I look around the room, frowning and wondering if I imagined it.
Ding.
That definitely came from something inside the room. I narrow my eyes, going to Leo's bed where the sound seemed to come from. I don't want to invade his privacy, though, and his bag is closed, so maybe I should just-
Ding.
A spot just under the sheets is illuminated. I pull it back curiously to see a phone lying there. Interesting. I didn't know he had a phone. I should ask for his number before we have to leave the hotel, after the tournament.
The screen is still lit up, and I really, really don't want to invade his privacy, but my eyes catch on the words 'win' and 'enough' before I look away. Inadvertently, I glance at the screen one more time, which immediately confirms that the first place prize for this tournament would give Leo enough money to move away from wherever he's living now.
I feel sick. Really, really sick.
I can't win now. Now that I know it would be enough to get him out of his current situation. The difference between first and second place is literally the difference between him moving away now and moving away sometime in the unknown future. What if something happened to the money he already has saved up between now and whenever the next tournament is? What if he didn't win that one, either? What if-
I can't do this. I really can't do this.
But it's what he wants. It's what he wants me to do, and he'll know if I let him win the tournament. It'd be obvious to everyone, including him, and he'd be so upset with me. He'd think I had no respect for him. And he says that my listening to what he wants is attractive- what would he think if I didn't?
I shake my head violently, trying to clear it. It doesn't work. It just makes me feel more sick.
It might not be so bad if I was sick. They'd have to pull me from the tournament. Leo would win automatically. Or... would they postpone it? I remember reading in the rules that if a contestant is absent from a match, it's considered conceding, but what about if a contestant is just unable to compete? Would they bring in the person I was against for the semifinals? That might not be so bad either- Leo would be able to beat that guy. Why didn't I throw that match? That would have made everything so much easier.
I hate this. I hate all of this so much. I wish we could just have an actual match- he'd beat me, Vick was right. But that didn't seem to be an option for him (or at least his conscience).
Maybe I should just do what he wants. Just go to the match, either pin or be pinned, whichever happens first. It would be easier than this war I'm having against myself. He'd still be happy with me, and if I won, Coach Turner and Vick and my friends and everyone at my club and maybe even my parents would all be so happy for me-
But Leo would be stuck living in the same place where he got those scars. And if someone is willing to do that to him, what else are they willing to do? How much longer would it be before he was injured more severely? Would they scar his face again? There are a lot of significant blood vessels and nerves in the head or at least near it- what if there was permanent damage? What if he died? I'd have to live with myself, with the knowledge that I might have been able to stop that from happening by just letting him win this tournament.
I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I hate myself already, just for still thinking about this. Why is this even up for debate? Leo's potential safety, versus- worst case scenario- our relationship? An unbelievably easy decision.
I take a deep breath, feeling a lot better. Next order of business: how to make sure he wins. I clearly can't adhere to our earlier agreement, because that would mean I'd have to try to win, which would mean my using my usual strategy of trying to pin him immediately, and, by the terms of our agreement, he wouldn't be able to try to avoid being pinned. Which would mean I'd win.
But I also don't want to just let him win, if for no other reason than it would be ridiculously obvious. And when I think about it, I could still accidentally win, probably. So... that's also not really a great option.
I pull out my phone and pull up the tournament rules. There it is- if a contestant is absent, it's considered forfeit. So all I really have to do is not show up.
Okay, so that's a plan. I wonder if they'd look for me before declaring the match forfeit? Coach Turner would probably notice that I'm missing before the match, and he'd almost undoubtedly send out probably the entire club to try and find me. Coach Turner's done a lot for me to be in this tournament- he might try to stall in hopes that I'd show up. So I can't be anywhere they'd look for me.
I don't have a car, but I do have money. I could probably hail a taxi and camp out on the other side of town until tonight.
I take all the money I've got with me and pull on a sweatshirt that doesn't have my club name on it. It also has a hood, which I pull up. Then I grab my phone, and go down to the hotel lobby. It's pretty empty at this time, but I exit out the side door anyways.
Fortunately, the side door opens to the side of the hotel not facing the place where the matches are held. I hurry down streets in the exact opposite direction and pull out my phone, looking at google maps to find somewhere far enough away from here that they won't find me. I choose a shopping centre, because it'll be big and full of people, and also full of stores and bathrooms and dressing rooms within said stores in case somehow I'm almost found.
Oh, speaking of that. I should probably turn location services off on my phone, because of that Snapchat feature that lets you see where people are. That'd be a dead giveaway, so I turn that off.
I spot a taxi and hail it, and climb into the back seat. The driver glances at me in the rear-view mirror. "Where to?"
I tell him the name of the shopping centre, and I watch as the hotel shrinks in the side mirror until it's out of view. I let out a small sigh of relief. He catches my eye in the rear-view mirror again. "You running away, kid?"
"No. I mean, kinda. I'm in a wrestling tournament, and I just want to go somewhere to walk around and forget about it for a little bit. Everyone near that hotel is- well, was- in the tournament, so..."
He nods. "Fair enough. Sometimes you just need a bit of space to think." He glances at me again, one corner of his mouth quirking up a little as he looks at me. "You're already looking better than when you got in."
"I feel better." And it's true.
Do you think Tyler made the right decision? What do you think of his plan to forfeit? Do you think it will work? How do you think everyone will react?
Thank you for reading!