I Hold On

My legs are starting to kill me. Good God. I sit down on the dry grass after finished a few laps and watch the rest of my football team play. I was but an hour late for practice hence why I had to run laps. My football coach is an ass. He’s fat, I swear. How does that even work out?

“Hime! Get on the pitch now!” Coach shouts, pointing a fist in my direction.
I jog onto the pitch, then slowly come to a halt, realising my team was walking off the pitch. I cast a confused look at my coach, “where is everyone going? Surely it’s not over?” I furrow my eyebrows.
“That would be right! Shit for you isn’t it son? You’ll be practicing with me,” he slapped a chubby hand on my shoulder.
“I can stay with Vander, sir” Stuart, the left winger raised his hand. I hardly even talk to the guy, I just know his name. But he seems nice.
“Good on ye Stuart!” Coach walked away, leaving Stuart and I standing in a deserted football pitch. The sky was dark and it started to get cold. I scoffed, this reminds of the marathon day, when Lyric went missing. I panicked of course, it was my fault, wasn’t it? They found him though, an hour or so later, curled up in a ball, just laying there. But he’s okay. I think. I say that because I haven’t been to Liners in two weeks. I’m scared. I’m thinking of quitting, but I know my ma will hang me by the balls if I do.
“Vander? Vander?” I felt a soft slap on the cheek. I hit my forehead, and realise I’m been thinking to myself again.
“Sorry, just thinking” I shake it off and run to the middle of the grassy pitch.

“You’re not focused! Come on Vander!” Stuart shouted at me as I tried tackling him.
“Fuck this,” I huffed, stalking off to sit on the stands.
“What is wrong with you? You were late, the state you were in when running those laps and now you can’t even tackle one person alone! And don’t give me some crap excuse” Stuart said, following behind me.
A strange sound erupted in my throat and I began to cry. I covered my face with my hands, no over-reacting wails, just tears leaking out of my eyes.
Stuart must have sensed this, as he put an arm over my shoulder, patting it. He bent down lower, as he is about over six foot and whispered into my ear, “it’s okay, it’s okay, do you want to talk to me about it?”
I was taken back at him, but told him nonetheless, about my new job, how I felt, about Lyric and what happened.
“I would have never thought you were gay, I always thought you were one of those man-whores who sleeps with every girl, no offence, I thought I was the only non-straight one of the team!” said Stuart.
“You’re gay?” I asked.
“No. I’m pansexual basically meaning I don’t care about gender, anyway though, it’s not safe is it? That Lyric, is it? Well, that Lyric boy is only fourteen, he’s still a kid. If you say it this way, we’re in the Under 21 team, he’d be either Under 14 or Under 16, it sounds right weird then doesn’t it. It’s best just to go back to your job, be a professional about it and ignore him and those feelings. It’ll all work out in the end” Stuart smiled, just as it started to rain.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll try I guess” I lifted my hand to wipe my tears, but Stuart took hold of my hand and got there first. I was about to move back but didn’t want to hurt the guy’s feelings.
“Do you need a lift home?” he asked, I nodded and followed him to his car. The journey was a quiet one, I noticed Stuart looking over at me a few times, which made me feel self-conscious. The traffic was only getting worse too.

“The only reason I stayed with you today was because I think you’re cute, but seriously, don’t let that little boy get you down. It’ll only get in the way of things, anyway, do I take a right?” Stuart asked me and I proceeded to give him the rest of the directions to my house. Many people have called me “cute” before or “hot” etc but when Stuart said it, it made me feel ugly.
“Stuart, what size are you?” I asked, noticing we were nearing my house.
“Six foot six” he said casually, whereas I sat there, mouth slightly ajar.
“You’re a beast!” I said with an alarmed face, Stuart laughed. “Not that way! I mean, you’re just seriously tall, I’m five foot four”
“I noticed” he said, I softly smacked him in the face, with him proclaiming he’ll crash the car.
I gazed at Stuart once more, as the car came to a stop outside my house. I know why I felt ugly when he said I was cute, because the guy is model material. He’s super tall, has short dark brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. It’s extremely cliché but oh so beautiful.
“You do plan on getting out, right?” chuckled Stuart.
“Unfortunately, I do” I pouted which caused Stuart to chuckle harder.
“Wait!” He called, as I opened the car door, “hug!” he wrapped his long arms around my shoulders. I smiled, biting my lip, he looks like such a manly man, yes, manly man, but somewhere in there he’s a little girl.
“I’ll tell Coach you played well, but promise me to do well next practice, and there’s a show on this Friday, here give me your number, I’ll text you the details, and then you can decide if you want to come,” Stuart looked up at me, I shrugged and typed my number into his phone, said my thanks and goodbyes and made my way into my house.