Chapter 35 : A broken Sound
STEPHEN’S POV:
Practice ran longer than usual.
Coach had us doing sprint drills until my lungs burned and my vision blurred at the edges. Hayden and I barely spoke, just sharp passes and tighter formations. If anyone else noticed the tension between us, they didn’t say anything. On the field, it translated into results. Off it… It just sat there, heavy and unresolved.
By the time we were dismissed, the sky was already fading into that deep purple that comes before night fully settles. The air smelled like cut grass and sweat.
Marcus was by the bleachers, talking to someone I didn’t recognize.
He looked relaxed, one hand shoved into his joggers, the other gesturing as he laughed. When he spotted me walking over, his face softened in that way it always did lately. It did something stupid to my chest.
“Hey,” he called.
“Hey.”
The guy beside him turned.
He was tall with broad shoulders, a confident stance, and dark curls pushed back from his forehead as he’d just run a hand through them. He smiled immediately when our eyes met, like he already knew something I didn’t.
“This is Troy,” Marcus said. “We’ve known each other since middle school. I think you both met at a party one time, but I have forgotten”
Troy’s gaze dragged over me slowly, unapologetically. “So this is Stephen.”
There was something deliberate in the way he said my name. I shifted my bag higher on my shoulder. “Yeah. That’s me.”
“Troy plays basketball,” Marcus added casually.
“Used to,” Troy corrected. “Now I just play when I feel like it.”
His eyes didn’t leave mine.
Marcus didn’t seem to notice the energy shift or maybe he trusted me enough not to care. He bumped Troy’s shoulder. “I’ve got to run to the trainer for a minute. Hamstring’s acting up again.”
“I’ll survive without you,” Troy said lightly.
Marcus glanced at me. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I said.
He squeezed my arm briefly before jogging off toward the athletic building.
The second he was out of earshot, the air changed. Troy stepped a little closer, but it was not enough to be obvious.
“So,” he said. “You’re the famous Stephen.”
I frowned. “Famous?”
Marcus talks about you all the time and I literally see your face in our school blog.” Something flickered in his expression “He says you’re intense,” Troy continued. “Competitive and fucking hard to read.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Nah, it's an observation.” He tilted his head slightly. “You’re even better looking up close.”
I blinked. There it was, clear as day and undeniable.
“Troy,” I said evenly, “Marcus is your friend.”
“And?”
“And you know I'm seeing him.”
He smiled slowly. “Are you?”
The question landed wrong. “Yes,” I said, firmer this time.
He shrugged. “Relax. I’m just talking.”
“You’re not just talking.”
His grin widened, as if he appreciated that I called him on it. “Are you always this serious?” he asked.
“Usually, yes I am.”
He stepped closer again, lowering his voice. “Marcus doesn’t do serious relationship. You know that, right?”
My jaw tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” Troy countered softly. “I’ve known him for years. He gets bored fast.”
Something cold slid down my spine. “I don't think he is bored with me, yet,” I said.
Troy studied my face like he was searching for cracks. “Sure, yet”
He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against my forearm and it felt wrong.
I stepped back immediately. “Don’t do that,” I said.
His expression shifted as the amusement faded into something sharper. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said.
“Yeah. You did.”
The space between us felt charged now. “You think you’re different?” Troy asked quietly. “From everyone else, he’s messed around with?”
The words hit harder than I expected. “Messed around with?”
Troy hesitated for half a second.
“What do you mean?” I demanded.
He ran a hand through his curls. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“No,” I snapped. “Say it.”
He exhaled like he was debating whether to cross a line. “Marcus doesn’t exactly have a track record of sticking around,” he said finally. “Especially not when things get complicated.”
My stomach twisted.
“And I’m guessing,” Troy continued, “with you? It’s already complicated.”
I felt exposed in a way I didn’t like. “You don’t know anything about us,” I said.
“Maybe,” he replied. “But I know him.” Silence stretched between us. Then he added, softer, “I just don’t want you getting hurt.”
That almost made it worse because it sounded sincere. We heard footsteps echoing from the building.
It was Marcus.
Troy’s expression changed instantly. “Think about what I said,” he murmured.
“I don’t need to,” I shot back.
Marcus jogged up, slightly out of breath. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing,” Troy said easily.
I forced my face to be neutral. “We were just talking.”
Marcus slung an arm around my shoulders. “You heading back to the dorm?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll text you later,” he said.
Troy watched us carefully. I nodded once. “Sure.” I didn’t look back as I walked away but I could feel Troy’s eyes on me and something else.
There was doubt.
By the time I reached the dorm building, my chest felt tight again.
I told myself it was stupid. That Troy was trying to get in my head and maybe he was jealous, or whatever.
I climbed the stairs two at a time, heart pounding harder than it should’ve been.
What if I weren’t different? What if I was just… next?
Inside my room, the silence hit me like a wall. Hayden wasn’t there yet.
I dropped my bag and went straight to the bathroom.
I locked the door and sat down on the cold tile floor and tried to breathe.
At first, nothing happened. Just that tightness in my throat.
Then it cracked as I took a sharp inhale and suddenly everything poured out.
The pressure, the constant competition, the fear of losing, the fear of not being enough or being replaceable.
Troy’s voice replayed in my head.
He gets bored fast.
What if this, whatever Marcus and I had wasn’t solid?
What if I had finally let myself feel something real and it was already slipping?
I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes but it didn’t stop the tears. They came hard and fast, silent at first, then I was shaking.
I slid down further until my back hit the wall.
I hated crying. It felt weak hur I couldn’t stop because it wasn’t just about Marcus. It was about everything.
A broken sound tore from my chest before I could swallow it down. I wrapped my arms around myself and let it happen.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t competing, defending, or pretending. I was just… hurting and alone.
The bathroom light buzzed faintly overhead.
Outside the door, I heard the dorm room door open. Then I heard footsteps. It stilled for a while and then I heard his voice…..Hayden’s voice, faint, calling my name.
I froze.
I couldn’t answer, not like this, with my face wet and my chest heaving and my world cracking open on a cold tile floor.
He knocked once on the bathroom door.
“Stephen?”
I pressed my hand over my mouth to muffle the sound.
Then another knock and it was louder. “Steph. You okay?”
My throat burned. I need to get out of here.