Page 21 of Kicking It with the Point Guard

I stop at the door to the caf, my voice coming out more frigid than I thought possible. “No. We will not. Leave me alone, Allyson.”

Anger flares in her eyes, but she keeps her expression neutral. She doesn’t say anything else, and I take that as an opportunity to make a hasty exit.

The farther away from the building I walk, the angrier I get.

I haven’t spoken to Allyson in four years. Senior year of high school was when she—

I punch the first thing I see, which happens to be the stone wall of the boys’ dorm. Pain flashes through my fist and up my arm, but I don’t really feel it.

“WHY?” I yell into the cool, dark night.

Instead of going inside, I slide down the wall I just took my frustrations out on and rest my forehead on my knees.

Several people walk by, but I don’t look up. Their whispers wash over me, but I’m not listening.

When the world is silent again, I finally push myself to my feet, wiping away an errant tear that wouldn’t listen when I told myself to not feel. I flinch at the dark shape in front of me. But relax when Oscar’s warm voice comes from it.

“You okay, man?”

“No,” I croak.

Shivers rack my body. I’m about to shut down. My best friend wraps his strong arm around me and leads me inside the building. We don’t stop until we get to my room.

“Key?” he asks, holding out the hand that isn’t wrapped around my shoulders, grounding me.

I fumble in my pockets until I find it and drop it into his hand.

He unlocks the door and moaning reaches our ears.

“Hey, man, knock first,” my roommate gripes when he sees us. “I’m kinda busy here.”

I glance away from the floor to see he’s perched over a topless girl. Her dark skin flushes, and I look away again. Another shiver runs through me.

“OUT!” Oscar barks. “Both of you.”

“You can’t kick me out,” my roommate starts, but one look at the hockey player’s face has him changing his mind quickly.

“We can go back to my room,” the girl whispers, grabbing her shirt off the bed. They scurry out of the room, and the door clicks shut behind them.

Oscar nudges me over to my crisply made bed, and I climb on it with shaky limbs. He hops up beside me, not saying anything. Just being there if I need him.

I shudder and shake, my breathing shallow for several more minutes. More tears streak down my face before I’m finally able to take a deep breath.

When he’s sure that I’m not going to shut down, he speaks. “I saw Allyson. What did she want?”

I don’t respond immediately, not trusting my voice not to break.

“She… wanted to talk.”

“What the fuck is there to talk about?” Oscar growls.

“Who knows?” I shrug, reaching for the bag Oscar must have set on the bed next to me.

I pull out a bottle of water and down half of it.

“The only thing you need to hear from her is sorry. Then she can take her stupid, expensive, fake ass away and never talk to you again.”

I don’t say anything else. But I pull my phone out and email my professors and coach to let them know that I won’t be present tomorrow.

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