Chapter 12 TYLER
“It’s just a painting.”
One of the biggest lies I’d ever told anyone. At first, that’s all it had been—but when my brush met the canvas, I found myself pouring my frustration into my art. I hadn’t expected anyone to give it an interpretation other than meaningless strokes. But Harper—she’d been right on the money.
Everything she said was exactly how I felt—with my mom fussing around me, my teammates trying to act like everything was normal, and Harper coming over for our sessions—I just felt suffocated. So many people around me, yet no one related to how I felt. My future was dying before my eyes, and there was nothing I could do about it. Not when I was still stuck in this stupid sling.
I kicked my locker hard, ignoring the stares from students heading to lunch. They could watch me break for all I cared—none of their opinions mattered.
Inhaling deeply, I reached into my locker, grabbed my books, and shut it closed. I was turning to head to the lunch hall when a familiar brunette slammed into me, pinning me flush against the locker.
“Hey, Stud.”
I groaned, pushing her off. “Racquel.”
“What? Why do you always squeeze your face up whenever you see me?” She crossed her arms, leaning on one hip. “You can be cold to everyone except me—”
“Especially you,” I cut in. “I think you keep forgetting—we’re not together anymore.”
“And whose fault is that, hmm?”
I rolled my eyes and brushed past her, but she grabbed my hand, forcing me to face her. A muscle in my jaw ticked. This girl was grinding down my patience.
“Racquel,” I warned.
“Jesus, Tyler, it was one small mistake. Get over it, will you?”
“I’m over it, I promise you. I’ve got more pressing things on my mind than your lack of home training and respect for your partner. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
I tried to pass again, but this time she stepped into my path. I sighed, balling my fists. If this had been a guy, God knows I wouldn’t be so patient.
“Tyler—” she choked, covering her mouth with her hand.
Christ. Here come the waterworks.
“W-why the hell do you have to be so mean? You can’t just throw two years of dating into the gutter.” She reached for me, but I pulled back. Her sobs broke out then. “You can’t be serious. Do you really hate me that much?”
“I don’t have time for this,” I said flatly. Her tears were doing more harm than she realized. Fake-faced, pick-me girls always icked me out.
“I’m walking away now. If you know what’s good for you, don’t try to stop me.”
“Tyler—” she started, but I was already walking away, heading straight for the library. Lunch had never been on my mind anyway.
I’d been staring blankly at the pages of my book for minutes—if not hours—now, barely paying attention to the people around me. It wasn’t until a finger snapped in front of my face that I was dragged back to reality.
“Hey, cap. Missed you at lunch. You good?”
I sat back, taking in my surroundings, before returning my attention to my best friend.
“Yeah. Why’re you in the library?”
He chuckled. “‘Cause I’m a student just like you.”
I arched my brow. He flashed me a toothy grin.
“Ah, spare me the judgmental look. I’ve changed. Same way you have.”
“What do you mean? I’m still the same, ain’t I?”
“Well, if you don’t count the zoning out, lashing out at everyone, and the permanent scowl where your smile used to be—then yeah, you haven’t changed a bit.”
I didn’t have anything to say to that, so I flipped through the pages of my book absentmindedly. Peter leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper.
“What’d you say about a little outing? Something to get your mind off school and you know….” He gestured towards my sling arm.
“I’ve got tickets for two—actually, got enough for the team. Everyone is literally going—everyone except you.”
“Would love to, but I’ve got therapy,” I deadpanned. My eyes stayed glued to the book in front of me.
“Come on, Tys. Don’t be like that. You used to be a lot more fun before the…”
“What?” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Complete your sentence.”
“Hey, man, chill.”
“No. Finish it.” I pushed back my chair roughly, rising to my feet. “Y’all try to act like everything’s the same, but it’s still you guys who keep reminding me of the situation I’m in.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“You already did!” I barked. “You want to act like everything is fine? Then fucking act like it. Stop trying to sympathize with me. You want to invite me out, then do it because I’m your friend, not because you feel sorry for me.”
“Can’t blame me, though. Talking to you these days is like standing next to a ticking bomb.”
“Finally, someone has balls.”
“Tyler.” He raised a placating hand, standing to his feet. “I didn’t mean to tick you off. It was just a simple invite to the festival.”
“Invite declined.”
“Boys!”
We turned to see the school librarian, Mrs. Trisha, storming toward us, her face hard as stone.
“Perfect. We’re dead,” Peter muttered.
I turned to apologize, but before I could speak, she slapped down two slips on our table.
“Detention!”
“You can’t be serious.” Peter cast me a dirty look. I mirrored it, then turned to the Librarian.
“I can’t. I’ve got therapy after school. You want me to tell my counselor I missed it because of detention?”
“Oh, she’s your counselor now?” Peter scoffed.
I narrowed my eyes at him, daring him to say anything further. He looked away. I picked up my bag and tossed my book into it, throwing it over my shoulder.
“I’d love to stay and argue, but I’ve got places to be.”
“Are you seriously just going to let him walk away?” I heard Peter grumble behind me.
“He’s injured, you’re not. Next time, think twice before causing a ruckus in my library.”
“But he started it—”
“Detention, Peter Hudson.”
My jaw tightened.
I should’ve turned back and bailed him out. It was my fault he’d gotten into trouble in the first place. Even more, he was my
best friend. But somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to care.