chapter four - best friend

chapter four — best friend

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THE DAYS WERE GROWING LONGER. Coach's practices usually extended far beyond the actual set end-time, but it was, surprisingly, still light outside when we ended. There was no breeze, the air stiflingly warm and humid, almost lazy in the way it bogged my shirt down making everything cling uncomfortably. I pulled at the neck of my tee, scowling when Marco slung his arm around my shoulder, other draped around the much-taller form of DJ. DJ shrugged sheepishly, while Marco yapped loudly about something, unbothered by me not giving a shit.

Lukas and Roger were walking ahead of us to the parking lot where the parents were waiting for pick up, probably discussing Chemistry or some smart-people shit. Roger's Mom was the only parent from our group who was consistently on time, but she didn't give out rides though since Roger never went home after practice. He went to like tutoring or some shit like that even though he didn't need it. Roger was easily the nerdiest dude I knew, never pulling in anything below an A-, but an A- just wasn't enough for some people. It seemed plenty enough for me since I usually averaged a solid B- on a good day.

A few of the other sophomore players aggressively brushed by me, shoulders knocking into mine. I grit my teeth, steeling myself for another hit as some of my classmates eyed me strangely. I hated nearly all of them. They couldn't play basketball for shit, minds so focused on their college resume that they forgot how to do anything but bullshit and walk.

They passed by Roger, who made an exaggerated motion with his hands, eyebrows crossed in stress. Lukas just laughed, replying with a smile, but I couldn't hear anything since Marco wouldn't shut the fuck up.

"Shut the fuck up" I tried, pushing Marco's arm off my shoulder.

"No" He smirked, just grabbing DJ's hand to wrap it around his shoulder instead.

A beat-up pick up truck pulled into the parking lot, a tanned hand reaching out of the driver side window to flap animatedly at Marco. I heard a loud shout, followed by a string of curses and the blaring sound of Spanish radio.

"Ay, that's me boys" Marco shoved at me, patting DJ on the back before jogging over to the truck.

"His ride was here on time? What the fuck?"

"Maybe ask your boyfriend for a ride then, yeah?" Marco winked at me, ducking my light swing for his shoulder. He stuck his tongue out at me, nodding at DJ before clambering into the shotgun seat of his Uncle's truck.

"He's not my fucking boyfriend" I hissed venomously, gladly returning the gesture when Marco flipped me off as he rounded the street corner.

"I like how you knew who he was talking about though" DJ chuckled next to me, flinching when I turned my glare on him.

Although he towered over everyone, DJ was a pussy. I'd seen little girls intimidate him before; the only reason he wasn't a human doormat was Marco and his incessant call for DJ to stand up for himself. Their relationship was wrong in every way, personalities almost incompatible, but they made it work in their screwed up way.

"Hey, I'm just saying." He held his hands up defensively, eyebrows raised and insinuating that I was being childish. I bit my lip, angrily hoisting my bag up higher onto my shoulder and looking away from him.

"Lukas is my best friend, so yeah, I'm not gonna treat him like shit" I muttered, kicking at the concrete sidewalk. The cracks arched across its surface in a mock rainbow, ending abruptly when the asphalt of the road began. The asphalt looked smooth, reminding me of licorice. Licorice was the only candy my father let me have when I was little and still living with him.

I fucking hate licorice.

"The rest of us are your friends too, but you treat us like shit. You treat everyone like shit, except for Lukas and your Mom" DJ frowned, eyes briefly flitting to the parking lot. DJ usually got picked up by his neighbor since his parents were so busy, the red sedan awkwardly hard to miss.

"What do you want? An apology? Or do you want me to start treating Lukas like shit so you'll feel less shitty?" I grumbled. I didn't treat DJ, Marco or Roger like shit. Hell, I liked their company. I was nice to them and I didn't insult them that much.

Did they honestly think I didn't like them? What a bunch of sensitive assholes.

"Hey, guys!" Lukas grinned, walking up to us. The evening sunlight made his unruly hair look like a halo around his head.

He was miraculously happy, even after going through practice today. Coach had been incessantly picking on him, making him take shots from the three-point line even though Lukas' main role was down in the key. He took it without a complaint though, and I was more than a little impressed.

"Jesus fuck, go away," I tried, my face flat and serious.

I'm gonna treat him like shit.

Lukas' smile immediately dropped and I felt guilt pool in my stomach.

I can't do this.

"Sorry, sorry, ignore that" I groaned, my hands covering my face when DJ burst into laughter. He patted my shoulder, doing the same to Lukas' as he began to walk over the red sedan impatiently waiting in the parking lot.

"See you, guys!" He waved, stupid grin still on his face.

I scowled, feeling my face heat up as I pointedly ignored both DJ and now Lukas who looked at me like I was an alien. His eyebrows were drawn together in thickly-knit worry, mouth pursed. Lukas grabbed my bag's strap loosely, tugging on it until I looked up at him.

"Sorry," I tried again.

Lukas shook his hand, dismissing my apology.

"No, I'm sorry if I did something. Is everything okay?"

"You did shit-nothing Lukas. You're fucking great, okay?" I huffed, shifting so his hand would fall away from my bag. He was standing a little too close to me, and I found myself distracted by his shirt. He was still in his practice jersey, the material decidedly ancient. The lettering was faded, the only image still legible the basketball on the front. It was halfway through a net and I tilted my head, focusing on it.

Is that a three-pointer? Maybe a layup?

"—a ride?"

"Huh?" I asked dumbly, stretching my neck to meet Lukas' gaze.

"Could your Mum give me a ride?

"Oh, I'm actually walking home today" Like I do every day.

"Wait, have you done that before? How long does it take?" Lukas frowned, lips parting in surprise.

"Like two hours," I shrugged, "You can stay the night if you want since we have off tomorrow for that teacher conference thing"

Lukas looked at me weirdly before sighing. He ran a hand through his already-messy hair before relinquishing his frown with a small smile.

"Sure, I'll text my Mom"

Δ      Δ      Δ      Δ      Δ      Δ      Δ

"Pizza rolls are on the counter," my Mum sighed, bundled up in a jacket and scarf even though the night was near boiling, "If you boys need anything, just call and I'll catch the bus right home," She looked at me pointedly before scuttling around the coat rack to hug me. I returned it gently, wrinkling my nose when she pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. Rubbing at it, I watched as she hugged Lukas before waving.

"Bye Mum, love you"

"Love you too, honey, don't let too many bugs in now"

I smiled grimly, shutting the door when she disappeared into her friend's car.

Thank fuck Mum doesn't wear lipstick.

I rubbed my forehead more vigorously, meeting Lukas' amused gaze.

" 'Kay, what do you want to do?" I stretched my arms above my head, still in what I'd worn to practice.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to take a shower" Lukas shoved at my shoulder with a smile before heading up the stairs. His white socks slid on the wood, his hand wrapped securely around the banister so he wouldn't fall and break his arm like I had freshman year.

"I don't smell that bad" I huffed, following him up into my room.

"You smell like Axe," Lukas rooted through my closet, pulling out a shirt and some sweats he'd probably left here the last time he stayed over. An unhealthy amount of clothes in my closet were Lukas', but since we practically wore the same shit it wasn't a big deal. I'd more than likely worn his sweatshirt or something on accident, just because I couldn't tell our shit apart.

"Why do you even use that shit anyways?" Lukas yanked his shirt over his head, throwing it in the vague direction of my laundry basket. He missed and I snorted, smirking when he looked at me sheepishly.

"It's cheap, and it works" I reasoned, stepping out into the hall to grab Lukas a spare towel. He threw me mine, a pair of basketball shorts and a sweatshirt following close after.

"Meet you in the kitchen in five" I nodded at him, pushing him in the direction of the guest bathroom. It was small, but it had a shower and I had dibs on the main bathroom.

"Five? It's gonna take me longer than that to shower" Lukas grumbled, walking towards the bathroom anyways.

"Less pizza rolls for you then," I smiled fakely, darting into the bathroom so I could get my shower over and done with. I didn't like taking showers: it was boring. I couldn't listen to music. I couldn't watch anything. There wasn't anything particularly cool to look at either.

I'd already memorized the first five ingredients in my shampoo, so I let my mind wander.

"I have an appointment with Dr. Gomez on Monday," I muttered, absentmindedly rubbing the soap into my stomach in circles. I traced my abs, laughing to myself when I realized they kinda made a waffle-pattern. Six-packs were fucking weird.

I need to ask for a Strattera refill soon.

"I don't have school tomorrow —fuck yeah"

I spotted a new bruise on the side of my ribcage. An angry purple color, it was probably from practice today when Marco got a little too aggressive with his man-on-man defense. I pressed against it, wincing as it throbbed.

Marco can go fuck himself.

I turned the shower off, grabbing my towel from the outside so I could dry myself off. The bathroom wall was decorated with more weed-themed stickers, all arranged neatly around the border so a stranger would have to look twice to tell what they were. Lukas' contribution was a generic happy face sticker, Sharpie completing the stick figure body attached to it. Marco had tried drawing a dick on it at some point, which led to Roger using his art-skillz to transform it into a skirt so my Mum wouldn't have an aneurysm. So now I had a happy guy in a skirt on the wall of my bathroom.

Mainly thanks to Lukas and his stupid happy-face sticker.

Idiot. My best friend is an absolute idiot.

I eyed myself in the mirror. The guys liked to make a shit ton of gay jokes about Lukas and me, but they had no grounds for them. Lukas was my best friend, and that was it. Besides, I was a dude. Lukas was a dude. Neither one of us was effeminate in the least. Moreover, dudes didn't like dick, it wasn't normal. Being gay wasn't something to joke about, it was a serious problem that a lot of people faced, and making gay jokes was no better than joking about other mental problems. It bothered me that the guys didn't see it that way.

I met my gaze steadily, eyes looking startlingly blue through the remnant of the shower-fog I'd created. My knuckles slowly turned white, grip on the edge of the sink deadly.

What a fucking idiot. He can't even take a shower without getting distracted.

"I'm gonna beat you, Kieran!" Lukas banged on the bathroom door and I jumped, mind struggling to keep up with my mind for once as I rushed to put my clothes on. I pushed my head past the hole of the sweatshirt carefully, all too familiar with what would happen if I rushed.

"These pizza rolls taste amazing!" His voice filtered up through the kitchen, exaggeratedly joyous. I opened the door to the bathroom, letting some of the steam escape. The bathroom looked empty without the steam, and I looked smaller. Fragile, almost, and I hated it.

I wasn't fragile.

I shivered, goosebumps running up and down the length of my arm. Hurriedly, I pawed through the clothes Lukas had thrown at me and pulled the underwear and pants on. Lukas had also thrown me his own sweatshirt, his own unique smell embedded into the cloth. It was a little big, the sleeves going up to my knuckles whose color was finally returning to them. Lukas smelled nice, like a bakery almost, warm and sweet with a low note of something else entirely: completely his own.

I hastily grabbed my Axe, dousing myself with the aerosol until I couldn't breathe.

"You coming, Keke?" I heard Lukas' familiar footsteps scamper up the stairs. He looked mildly worried, pizza roll half in his mouth.

My mouth twisted into a smile.

"I swear, if you finished all the pizza rolls, I'll end your bitchass"

"You know I'd never do that to you" He rolled his eyes, tossing me a pizza roll he was holding in his hand.

I caught it, lips parting into a quick grin.

"I know"

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* If a chapter's POV is not specified, it is assumed to be from Kieran's POV. This chapter is the exception because this rule was not made clear prior.

2231 words

What do you think?

This chapter was made to offer a glimpse into Kieran's mindset. I have a very specific idea and character I am trying to achieve with Kieran, so hopefully, you all got a taste of it in this chapter :)

This week has been a little rough, so I wasn't able to spruce up this week's chapter as much as I would've liked to :( That being said, I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it) or just a great week in general!

Thank you for reading and have a beautiful day <3