Chapter 22 On My Mind
Christian’s Point of View
I have a terrible suspicion that Xavier knows Alan’s true identity, and I don’t think he just found out about it because his response was too fast and too discreet when he saw the blotch on her shorts.
He didn’t even seem surprised—I remember my reaction when I found out he was a girl; I almost lost my marbles.
And now I wonder just how long he has known?
Did she tell him?
Or just like me, did he find out for himself? Or maybe… just maybe, I was the one in the dark all along, I have been played by that damned little cosplayer.
I didn’t know how much time passed, but my feet remained rooted, as I stared at the empty doorway, even though Xavier and Alan were long gone. There was something in the way that Xavier tended to her that seemed to annoy me.
He was gentle, and he moved with swift precision, and she responded with equal gentleness.
The way she looked at him was completely different from the way she looked at me or any other person in the court, and it made my chest tighten.
And I wonder if they were both having a secret, illicit affair underneath my nose, it doesn’t matter, I found her first, and I am going to have her.
It doesn’t matter how much she hates me; it’s only a matter of time before she comes to her senses and chooses that which is better for her.
The continuous thinking left a bitter taste on my tongue, still angered by the fact that the son of a bitch stole my spot—I promised her that I was going to be a person she could depend on, but now how can she depend on me when the person I am competing with lives in the same dorm with her?
He gets to see her more…
He gets to speak to her more…
He has more time to do all those things he does to them.
“Christian,” I heard my name, and I turned back slightly to be met by the piercing brown eyes of the blond boy who walked up to me, his chest rose and fell, probably from running.
He held the ball to his side and wiped off sweat from his forehead before he hung the small towel on his shoulder.
Even though I didn’t know his name, I knew he was the captain of the other team.
“I don’t think I know you close enough to discuss with you,” I muttered, trying to swallow the anger that formed a lump in my throat. “I am in quite a hurry.”
“I am Luke Shepherd; most people just call me Shepherd. I’m the class president of Class 4b.” He introduced himself in a calm but confident voice. “I am also the captain of the opposing team, and I am here because my other teammates have noticed some sort of violence towards Alan.”
I froze, my heart quickening from the accusation. “What is the meaning of this?” I muttered.
“That is also what I would like to know; that is why I am here.” He answered a little more confidently. “In all three games we have played together, there is an ongoing streak of hitting him in the face with the ball, the last time he even bled, and today our other teammate had to walk him back to his dorm.”
I scoffed in disbelief as I stepped forward, trying to intimidate him with my height, but he wasn’t even fazed or threatened.
“Are you saying that I am bullying him? Is that what you’re implying right now?” I queried, my voice low and serious, feeling a twitch in the left side of my eye. “It’s a freaking game, and he is horrible at it; it’s only natural he gets hit in the face—what kind of team lets an idiot who can’t even spike a ball play?”
“I am not explicitly accusing you, as we don’t have any substantial proof that you and your other teammates are bullying him, but it does seem like you’re picking on him.” Luke continued, and I felt my anger rose even more, but this time, the anger wasn’t directed at him, but at myself.
I might have done it intentionally in the first two games, but today was a mistake. I didn’t intend to hit her in the face, but this brown-eyed bastard wouldn’t believe me.
“We hope we can continue to play respectfully with each other from now on. Even though we are on different teams right now, we will be expected to play on the same team in the competition.” He smiled, and all this formal talk was giving me a fucking headache. I think I understand the reason he was appointed both class president and team leader. “I hope you will pass this message to your other teammates.”
He then jogged off in the direction of his other teammates, and then they left.
My eyes were fixed on the bottle of alcohol inside me. I had been waiting for her to come to work today; minutes turned into seconds and more, but there was no sign of her. It was unlike me, but I was unable to do anything throughout the day. I am not supposed to be holed up in my dorm room, thinking about something like this—she is insignificant, someone I shouldn’t be bothered about.
My interest in her has been unusual, and I dared say I even developed an attraction for him, which kept me up all night at some point, doubting my sexuality.
And I was so relieved when I figured out that she was actually a girl.
I turned in the last drop of spirit in my glass, and I groaned, leaning back into the couch. I haven’t drunk this much in a while.
I downed the glass in a single gulp, feeling the liquid burn down my throat.
“Fuck,” I think I might have overdone it.
Who would have thought there would be a day I would be here, locked in my dorm room, drinking to the thought of a girl?
I jolted from excitement when I heard a sudden knock on the door.
“Come in,” My lips tugged into a smile. “Alan.”