? The Deal ?
Written by Idara Kingsley
? Chapter 18 ?
? Brian ?
Training for our game that was in less than three months was har-der than I thought it would be.
Exhausted. I threw myself on the bleachers. I was breathing heavily from the running around during training. I was a bag of tired waste.
All I needed was to throw my sticky, sweaty self on my bed and sleep for straight eight hours without disturbance. Yes, I was that tired. I was really, really tired.
All my body felt numb. I was physically and mentally stressed. From playing basketball to not having enough rest.
Being a famous was ha-rd to keep up with. It drains you. It weakens you and fu*cks with your mind everytime.
Sweat was dripping from my body, soiling my tank top. It was sticking to my body, a bit of it crumpled up and plastered on my skin.
Cold breeze blew past me, causing goosebumps to grow on my skin.
“Hey champ.” Ashton waved to me from the court. I raised my brows up at him. He was running towards me with two bottles of water. Just what I needed. It was so thoughtful of him to think I needed some water to at least quench my thirst.
He wasn’t running so fast. He was jogging. He was grinning like he was enjoying running to me with the bottled water.
As he approached me, he threw one of the bottled water to me. I caught it and emptied all the content into my mouth immediately. I drank till the last drop of water dropped on my tongue. It felt satisfying.
“That was quick.” He laughed, his eyes all over me. Watching me.
For a moment, I felt his look. His look held so much unspoken words. He looked away immediately, and faced his bottle.
What was that for?
I watched him down half of the content.
After he finished, he kept the bottle by his side and faced me squarely. Apparently, his eyes were on the court, watching the guys play. He stole few glances at the boys, at me, at the boys again and me. It continued like that till I tuned him out of my head.
Our coach was playing with the boys. They were all full of smiles as they tried to get the ball from him. I couldn’t help but smile at the scene playing in front of me.
Everything felt like yesterday when I had just joined the team. Ashton was my first friend. The first person I talked to. The first person that smiled at me.
He was the quiet guy, but a wizard when it came to playing of basketball. At first, I had difficulties catching up with him. He was my obstacle. He still is though.
He was my competition, I was his competition too. No hate included, just two friends trying to achieve their goal. Trying to be their best to achieve the goals we had set for ourselves.
No hate included. We saw it as a game. Anyone can be the best. No trace of jealousy or whatsoever for each other. We celebrated each other after every game, either we lost or won, we still celebrated each other. I think that was why my coach was drawn to us in particular. We held no grudge against each other. Just a carefree mind that had no trace of hate in it.
A lot of people were thinking it would be impossible for Ashton and I to be close buddies because of we were each other’s competition— we were trying to reach the same level, and only one person could be there. Just one of us.
Here’s the thing, we put ourselves to focus on the game. We became each other’s competition on the court and become buddies outside the court. NO friendship in a game. We were just strangers, who wanted a position, with no sign of allowing your best friend win it because we were friends. No. Every man for himself.
When I got the status as one of the best, and Ashton didn’t, he celebrated me. He never murmured or plotted against me so he could get the position.
He was my right hand man, my best friend.
We’ve been best of friends ever since our first training together. It felt unreal that I made him bring out himself over the years.
When people said I was influencing, I usually waved it off or laugh over it as usual. Truly, I was so influencing and accommodating at the same time.
I pushed Ashton har-der . I made him realize he was so good.
“Yeah. I was so thirsty.” I said causally. I played with the bottle, spinning it with my fingers, continuously.
“Okay.” He stayed still. Quickly, I saw a smirk pulling at the corner of his li-ps. What was he up to now? “I missed you so much bro.” He grinned widely. He came at me, hugging me, brushing his cheeks on mine, pecking me.
Ashton was a play master. He was known for that. He played every fu-cking time not minding the situation. He was the type to ease pressure if something was going on. With him around, you’d never get sad.
Don’t get me wrong, he was jovial, yes, but he had his serious moments. Moments were he would want to be alone. Alone from the outside word
“EWW! BRO GET OFF ME.” I tried to push him away, but his strong grip trapped my arms to my body. How did I ever get a friend as crazy as Ashton.
He made me laugh, angry, and feel loved at the same time. I haven’t felt being loved in a very long time. My friend was always there for me.
Just like how he threw a bottle of water to me without me asking. He knew I was thirsty after such a long, tiring, training we had all day. He was so thoughtful, caring and the most honest human I’ve ever met. Plus he was overly weird. I loved his weirdness even if it creeped the fu-ck out of me, a lot of times.
His snorting and chuckling brou-ght me back to earth. I looked over at his smiling face.
“What? I missed you. Did you not miss me too?” He blinked continuously, like a little child asking for a candy. I chuckled softly as I watched his childish act.
“Bro!” I playfully punched his arm with a wide smile.
He pouted, looking like a child. I couldn’t help but chuckle at his childish act.
Like a flash, his playful face turned into a serious one. He wasn’t smiling, neither was he frowning. He was in between that it was so ha-rd to differ his expressionless face.
What was he up to now?
“How’s Charlotte?” He asked, eyes on the court. There was something about his tone that scared me a bit. Why the sudden question about Charlotte? He never asked about her, never. He seemed to care less about her existence, like her existence irked him.
Why? How? Various question pumped into my head, confusing me more and more.
I gulped, “she’s good. Haven’t spoken to her all day. What’s the deal?” I had to ask. He was already scaring me as if he knew something. As if he knew something was totally off. Ashton knew something, it was scaring the shit out of me.
He whipped his head to my direction, casually taking his eyes off the court for sometime. “I don’t see the big deal asking about your girlfriend. Or do I have to not care?”
The way he said the girlfriend. There was an edge in his voice. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he stressed the girlfriend. Ashton knew something, definitely. He always knew something. How he always figured out was a mystery to me.
“I feel like you ain’t telling me the truth. You’re hiding something away from me.” He blew my mind, throwing more questions into my head. I wanted to speak up, but he cut me off. “Is there something you want to share? Don’t worry, I won’t freak out, I’ll und-erstand.” He looked at me with so much interest.
I almost choked on my saliva as I tried to speak.
If I said the truth, that would mean going against one of the rules Charlotte created. I was one hundred percent sure her bestfriend knew nothing. Her bestfriend never knew it was fake. From the look of things and how Charlotte tried to fake everything in front of her gave me the hint that Zoey was clueless about everything.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell Ashton. No, not when Charlotte who created the rule was abiding to it. I’ll betray her, betray her trust if I said a word or two about it.
Would she find out if I told Ashton?
What if she finds out?
What if she breaks it off with me even before we accomplish what we started?
I was overthinking that blood rushed to my head. I rubbed my head. Maybe it would go away. All those questions on my head was starting to make me want to puke.
“BRIAN.” Ashton called. He shook my shoulder, bringing me out of my trance. I blinked. I sli-pped into my own world of thoughts, scary thoughts. “You want to spill it?” He rose his brows at me.
Why did my bestfriend have to be so smart? He shouldn’t be this smart to notice something was off. Was something wrong with Charlotte’s and I relationship? Was there something he was seeing that we were not? All those questions filled my mind. I was disturbed.
“Why do you feel like I’m hiding something from you?” I asked after much contemplation to ask the question. I needed to know. Maybe he wasn’t talking of Charlotte and I. Maybe. I wasn’t so sure, but I felt so. I could be wrong. Still, maybe.
He shrugged. “You’re obviously hiding something. I’m not dumb. You never act like this. You’ve been acting off. I know you too well Brian, I ain’t a stranger.” His eyes were on my face as he talked. He looked like he was looking for a reaction from me. He wanted to use my body language against me.
I kept an expressionless face. I acted unbothered. I made him squint his eyes just to watch me. No reaction. I gave him a zero reaction. I acted like I wasn’t in anyway thinking of a lie to slide out of his questions that kept bugging me, continuously.
Living a fake life was hard. I wondered how people lived their life knowing everything about it was a lie. What if the people they lied to found out? How did they keep up with their lies? It was hard. I wasn’t sure I would continue if doubts kept coming from different places. It was sickening.
A laugh escaped my li-ps. A bitter laugh. I needed to prove to him that we were real. I wasn’t gonna chicken out, I’ll prove to him that he was wrong.
Technically, he was right. So damn right. So, so, so, right. He wouldn’t love that I was still lying to his face. I was sure he would und-erstand, soonest. He had to.
“Look, I’m not gonna lie to you, but you doubting Charlotte and I relationship is becoming too irritating. I love that girl. I have a great future with that lady. She’s my girl, no faking.” I paused for a second to think of more lies to make him believe. I watched his reaction. He want moving, blinking. He just stood there, staring at me blankly. He looked like was seeing throu-ghme.
I was slowly turning into a liar. I was lying to my bestfriend, something we rarely did.
“I und-erstand you don’t like her—,” he cut me off immediately.
“I like her. I don’t hate, Charlotte.” He simply stated. His tone was calm but I wasn’t comfortable with it. Ashton wasn’t too much of a calm person. He was Always hyperactive whenever we were together. He was never calm around me.
“Fine by me.” I shrugged. “Why do you still have doubt about us?”
“You and Charlotte? Bro, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how you despise this girl after her trolling on Twitter? You hate her guts and can’t stand her. Not even a chance.”
Ohh. I equally forgot about how much I hated Charlotte. I DISLIKED her, not hate. Hate was such a strong word.
I disliked how she carried herself then. She was rude, and annoying. She had pride to the fullest level. That alone, irritated the shit out of me.
Funny how everything I listed were what I had grown to like overnight about her.
Here was the thing, you wouldn’t und-erstand her till you were close to her. When I mean close, not just close, I meant really, really close to her, like Zoey. You would find out she’s a sweet, lovable person.
I found out the night I did the official opening of my clubhouse. She was drunk, but still wanted her friend to be found and brou-ght to her. I saw her soft part even though she was tryna bask it up with her usual ATTITUDE.
I loved how she carried herself.
I love how she doesn’t give two flying f.ucks about unnecessary things.
I love how she was mentally ready for trolls, bashing, continuos hatred. Still, she didn’t back off. She didn’t hide herself away from them. Something told me she enjoyed every bit of it. If she didn’t, then she was so good at enduring things. She was so good at bottling up her pain and smile to the world that had caused her so much pain.
There was a lot of things I didn’t know of Charlotte. I wanted to know her more. I wanted her to be open to me. As her fake boyfriend, I cared so much about her well-being.
It was weird, but a part of me was starting to develop feelings for her. Yes, you ha-rd me clearly. Feelings.
How we came to that chapter was ha-rd to describe.
I wasn’t supposed to fall. I wasn’t supposed to apply my emotions. She would throw me und-er the bus if she gets to know. She never gave a crap about anyone’s feelings.
Her feelings died with that her ex fiance who left her at the church.
On the contrary, she was so in love with that nigga. She wanted him back so badly than I needed Gianna. I wasn’t so sure if I needed Gianna anymore.
“Bro!”
The sudden feelings I was having for Charlotte, was something I was scared of. I shouldn’t be feeling like this.
Reason why I was suddenly clingy. I always wanted her around. I always wanted to see her smile.
Watch her laugh with those pearly whites teeth. See her frown at my words. Watch her yawn whenever I crack a joke. It warmed my heart just watching her no matter her mood.
She brou-ght this unknown feeling I was trying to hide. It wasn’t like this with Gianna, not one bit.
“Brian.” Ashton shook my shoulders with full for-ce.
I sli-pped out of my trance immediately. I looked around . The boys were now alone playing in the court. My coach was walking towards Ashton and I, with a wide smile spread across this face. His hands were tucked into his joggers pocket. How he was still fit even in old age baffled me. He flaunted his large arms to us, his biceps glaring at us. His opened ch-est was dripping from sweat. He looked young, but still, he was old. He looked so younger than his age.
“You good?” Ashton asked. I turned to look at him. Worry creased his forehead.
I wondered how long I was thinking for. I nodded to Ashton, as I swallowed a lump down my throat, for-cefully.
Our coach approached us, with that his signature smile. I sat up immediately.
“Boys.” He greeted. He pulled Ashton in for a handshake before turning to me. “Brian.” He paused and smiled at me. He pulled me into a semi–hug–handshake.
It wasn’t no news that I was my coach’s favourite. Everyone knew. Only few were able to take it in without stress, but some niggas who I hardly a-ssociated with were still having it choke them. It’s gonna to choke them to d.eath anyways.
Well, it wasn’t my fault they weren’t so good. No matter how they tried to step up their game to get my coach to like him, they couldn’t.
Apparently, I was the best. I was unbeatable.
Ashton and I were unbeatable. We were rare and always carried our team on our head. We were the reasons for most of our awards as a team. We had tons of them situated at a shelf at our home. Yes, Ashton made my home his home, after his house went on fire. Thank goodness the fire was quenched before it began destroying his valuables. It did, just some few things that he replaced immediately, without so much stress.
“No lur-king around, let’s train. No time to sit and discuss.” My coach said. His voice came out har-der than I thought it would.
This man really meant business. He always wanted to win, not loose.
“Yes coach.” Ashton and I playfully chorused. He laughed and began to walk away.
“Be fast boys.”
Ashton stood up and began making his way to the court. When he turned back to see me still sitting, he jogged back with confusion on his face. “What’s up bro? Coach wouldn’t be happy seeing you here.” He searched my face, as if searching for answers.
I cleared my throat. “I’ll be with you guys soon, I have to call Charlotte.”
He nodded. “Catch you up later. I’m gonna tell coach your mama called.”
I smiled at him, obviously grateful for his concern and und-erstanding. “Thank you.” He slapped my arm playfully and jogged away.
I picked up my phone from my bag and dialed Charlotte’s number. It rang but she did not pick up. I called again. Same thing.
Again and again and again. Still same thing. I was worried now. I really hoped she was okay.
I thought of texting her, maybe she would reply.
*
BRIAN: Hey, you good?
*
I sat for two more minutes, waiting for a reply. She never replied.
I sighed, threw my phone back into my bag and jogged to join the others in the court.