7. too much

SEVEN

too much

Thursday, February 25th

Isaiah woke up a lot earlier than he usually did, and it showed. The already dark bags under his eyes were worse due to lack of sleep, his hair was unruly and frizzy, and his neck hurt from sleeping at an odd angle. All in all, he felt like shit.

His family was exchanging looks between each other at the table, eyebrows raised in a silent "what the fuck is up with him?" Isaiah wanted to know the answer to that, too. He had to skip breakfast because he took too long to get ready, and pairing that with exhaustion was a disaster waiting to happen.

"You sure you don't need someone to pick you up?" his mother asked, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead. "You seem too tired to drive."

Isaiah sighed. "I'm fine."

She wasn't convinced in the slightest. "I'll allow you to stay home just this once," she suggested. "Or you can go in late. You're worrying me, mijo."

"I can't stay home," he mumbled. "I'll lose my exemptions. I don't really want to be taking an exam on the last day of school."

She nodded in understanding and kissed his cheek, brushed his hair back with her hand to kiss his forehead next. "I can drive you," she told him. "I don't mind. And you can have one of your friends take you home."

"Ma," he groaned. "I'm fine, I swear."

"You can always talk to me, you know that?" she pressed, cupping his face in her hands. "I know you must be stressed lately with the end of the year coming up. With baseball, too. You can always talk to me and your father."

Isaiah let out a soft laugh and gently pulled her hands away from his face. "Nothing's wrong," he lied. "I promise."

She sighed and took a step back. "Boys," she said with a scowl. "They never talk about their emotions. Surprise, mijo, we all cry! You did it when you came out of me!"

Isaiah's eyes widened in horror. "Mom!" he cried, placing his palm over her mouth before she could say more. "I did not need to hear that."

His mother rolled her eyes and pulled his hand away. "Too bad."

"Oh my God, I'm leaving," he muttered. "Bye. I'll see you when I get home."

"Drive safe, Isaiah. Te quiero mucho."

Isaiah smiled, snatching his keys up from the counter. "I love you, too."

___

He arrived at school in one piece and made sure to relay that information to his mom over text. She replied with a dozen emojis expressing her happiness, which made him laugh to himself.

After his conversation with her, he felt lighter than he had when he'd woke up. His shoulders had been heavy and his mind cloudy, but now it lessened to a point where he could actually function.

He had fifteen minutes until class started, so he met up with Marcus, Steve, and Ashton in their area by the gym. Once they were in sight, he faltered. Where it was usually the three of them, two others now stood, and Isaiah's first thought was to pretend he'd arrived late and couldn't meet up with them.

Until Ashton spotted him. "Isaiah!" he shouted, arm shooting up to wave him over. Isaiah bit at his lip and walked over, fingers fiddling with the wires on his headphones inside his hoodie's pocket. Once he'd reached them, Ashton looped an arm around Isaiah's shoulders with a grin.

Isaiah refused to look at August and instead kept his eyes trained on everyone and everywhere but him. "Dude," Marcus groaned. "We have a physics test today. I didn't study at all. Mr. Jones is gonna kill me when he sees my grade."

"I studied," Steve stated smugly.

Marcus scowled. "Of course you did."

"Was that an Asian joke?"

"What, no—"

"Racist."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "The fact that you keep such a straight face when you say shit like that is fucking weird."

The corner of Steve's lips pulled up into a smirk. "You're welcome." He bowed dramatically, and Marcus rolled his eyes again. Isaiah smiled to himself.

"I have a calc test," August mentioned, and Isaiah could feel his whole body turn to fucking Jello. "I have it sixth. After lunch. You can help me study, right, Isaiah?"

It was when Steve nudged him that Isaiah realized he hadn't said anything. "Oh," Isaiah blurted. "Yeah."

August lightly pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and made eye contact with Isaiah, who immediately averted his gaze. "Right," August said slowly, tone revealing his confusion at Isaiah's odd behavior. "I'll meet you in the library during the second half."

Once August had left with Morgan by his side, Marcus nudged Isaiah's shin with his shoe. "What's with you?" he asked, letting out a loud laugh. "What? Did he come onto you or something?"

Isaiah frowned, warmth traveling up his neck. "What? No. Why would he?" Does Marcus know? Isaiah internally kicked at himself. Know what? You're not interested, quit being sensitive.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding, right? The dude's gay, for sure."

"How do you know that?" Steve scoffed. "Has he told you that?"

"No, but—"

"Then you don't know shit," Steve interrupted. "Don't be an asshole."

"What straight guy would pass up on her? Morgan, right? She's hot," Marcus defended, and Isaiah cringed to himself. Had Marcus always been like this? He knew he wasn't homophobic, but he did say some pretty ignorant shit.

Steve's frown deepened. "Shut the fuck up, Marcus."

"Dude, chill. It's a compliment."

Steve scowled. "Objectifying a woman isn't a compliment."

Marcus let out a bewildered laugh. He looked between Ashton and Isaiah as if to say what the fuck is he going on about? "How is that objectifying? I called her hot—"

Isaiah left before Marcus could finish his sentence. Steve was raised with three sisters, all different ages. The youngest was twelve, and the oldest was in her twenties. His middle sister, who was fifteen, went to a private high school. He'd seen them get treated like objects dozens of times, so Isaiah didn't blame him for snapping at Marcus. He knew more than most teenage boys their age.

He knew he could talk to Steve no matter what. Ashton, maybe, because he didn't really take anything seriously. But Marcus had been Isaiah's best friend since they were kids, and they'd been drifting apart since their freshman year. Slowly but surely, but now it was obvious with the way Isaiah thought, and the way Marcus did. Two completely different perspectives on life, and they were bound to clash. Marcus and Steve's argument made it very obvious.

Isaiah let out a deep sigh as he made his way to his first period. His heavy mood was coming back full swing, and he started to wish he'd stayed home after all.

___

Fifth period ended once the bell sounded, and lunch started. With that came Isaiah's anxiety about being stuck with August, who definitely knew something was up. As if his behavior last night didn't make it obvious enough.

He met Steve and Ashton at their usual table, but Marcus wasn't where he usually was. Isaiah furrowed his brows and took a seat next to Steve. "Where's Marcus?"

Steve jerked his thumb in the direction of a group two tables down where other baseball players sat. Marcus was on the end, laughing and grinning and flicking water from his bottle at others. Isaiah let out a soft huh and scratched at his jaw. Was he mad at Steve?

"He's being a baby," Ashton piped up. "He's pissed because Steve told him off. Now that I think about it, he usually tells only me off. But I don't care. Because, you know, character development and shit."

Isaiah cracked a tiny smile. "Don't change, Ash," he said solemnly. "Don't change."

Ashton saluted Isaiah and gave him a playful wink. "I don't plan to."

Isaiah wanted to go over there and tell Marcus to quit being childish, but he didn't. Instead he waited for Marcus to come to them. It wasn't their job to tell him that. He should know it himself.

So, Isaiah spoke to Ashton and Steve and checked the clock on his phone every few minutes. It was going to be the second half of lunch soon, and Isaiah didn't want to face August alone just yet. He'd act like an idiot again.

He sighed and laid his head on his arms, eyes moving back and forth between Steve and Ashton as they talked about a show they both watched. "They left us on a cliffhanger," Ashton complained, slamming his hands down on the table. "We have to wait a whole ass week for the next episode. We're gonna see those undead fucks get fucking obliterated. If my favorite character dies, I'm gonna riot, Steve. I'm gonna do it."

Steve revealed an amused smile. "I'll riot with you."

Ashton nodded with a serious look on his face. "Good. Isaiah, who's your favorite?"

"I don't even know what you guys are talking about."

"Game of Thrones!" Ashton exclaimed in disbelief. "Have you not watched it? I told you to like a thousand times."

"Episodes are too long," Isaiah mumbled.

Ashton narrowed his eyes. "I hope the whitewalkers get you."

Isaiah chuckled. "I assume those are bad."

"Very."

That was not Ashton's voice. Isaiah blinked and turned around just as August came to stand at the end of the table, Morgan by his side, as always. Isaiah gave her a friendly smile, which she returned, visibly relaxing. But Isaiah's smile faltered when he glanced at August.

August tilted his head in the direction of the cafeteria doors and looked at Isaiah. "Ready? I'm not fond of failing." His smile was teasing, but his tone said he was being serious.

"Uh, yeah," Isaiah mumbled, reluctantly getting up from his seat. He clutched the strap of his backpack tightly, stomach fluttering with nervousness. Please don't bring up my behavior. Please.

August nudged Morgan. "You coming with?"

Please say yes. Please say yes.

She blinked owlishly. "Uh, I gu—"

"Do you watch Game of Thrones?" Ashton interjected, and Morgan turned red at the attention she was getting from the four. Morgan nodded slowly, and a wide grin slipped onto Ashton's lips. "August, I'm taking her."

"Oh," Morgan voiced awkwardly. "Um, okay." She hesitantly sat down next to Steve, who'd become suspiciously shy. Isaiah narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Did he—

"Let's go," August said, taking hold of Isaiah's elbow. The player's thoughts vanished at the contact, and he fought back the urge to pull away from him. Once they were out in the hallway, he let go and gently knocked their arms together.

"Question," August stated. "You scared of me or something?"

"What? No." I mean, kind of. "Wh...what makes you say that?"

August snorted. "That reaction exactly. You've been acting like my cat since yesterday. And my cat is scared of everything. Even the garbage truck."

"I'm not scared of the garbage truck."

"Well, I sure fucking hope not," August admitted, that stupid smirk pulling at his lips. "That'd be concerning."

At Isaiah's silence, August sighed and continued on. "Look, are you scared to offend me again or something? Is it the leg? Or my face? I've been told I can be intimidating. Is that it?"

Isaiah shook his head. "I don't know why I'm acting like this." He did, but he didn't.

August watched him, waited for an actual answer, and then sighed when he realized he wouldn't get one. "Fine," he said. "Don't tell me."

When Isaiah made no move to talk to August, the latter stopped abruptly in the hallway. Isaiah halted his movements and turned around to face the other boy, who looked absolutely peeved. "I don't get it," August said with a sigh. "I forgave you. I'm talking to you. You're actually kind of cool, and so are your friends. And ever since I did all that, you act like this. You're quiet and act like I'm going to fucking kick your dog. You're not nervously blabbering away anymore. I found it annoying at first, but now it's weird that you're not. Seriously - what the hell did I do?"

Isaiah worried at his bottom lip, which was already bitten raw. "You didn't do anything," he said honestly, shrugging his shoulders. "I just—" he cut himself off. The weight was becoming heavier.

August took a step forward, and when Isaiah didn't freak out like he'd done before, he got closer. He gripped his shoulder and shook it lightly, making Isaiah look up to meet his gaze. "I'm going to assume it's a personal thing," he said, pulling his hand away. "And I'm gonna leave you alone, because it seems like I have something to do with it. You don't need to help me with my homework, yeah? Don't worry about it. Okay?"

Isaiah nodded. "Okay." He felt disappointed. He didn't want August to leave him alone, but at the same time, he did. He didn't know what part of him to listen to. And this was all happening because Isaiah started to overthink the smallest things.

"I'll see you," August said. He patted his shoulder once more before walking away, and instead of going back to the cafeteria, Isaiah made his way to his sixth period early. Really early.

He plopped himself at a desk in the back and took a much needed nap. Because everything was exhausting.