Control

Firefeet. The one warmup that Ben felt no pain in doing. He could have done them all day long. The burning sensation pushed him on instead of hindering him. Ben looked to his right and saw his best friend Darren breaking a sweat. Although it felt wrong to think so harshly, Ben felt a slight satisfaction in knowing that he was better than Darren at something – for once.

Two hours later, practice was over and Ben walked with Darren to his car.

“I heard that party last night got pretty wild,” Ben remarked, trying to make some conversation. Darren seemed to be in a bad mood. It was almost selfish of Darren, Ben thought, to always be moping. His life was so perfect.

“Yeah. I had a wicked hangover yesterday morning. Listen, about hanging out today… I don’t think I can. I’m just going to go home and get some rest, okay?”

Ben simply nodded and quickly got inside his car, driving away without a second look toward Darren. It was the same old story, never even changed up. Every single day. Ben loathed it – he truly did. Yet, he knew that no matter how much he envied his best friend, he was nothing without him. It was knowing that that hurt Ben the most.

Laying in bed, Ben texted a girl whose name he barely knew. He knew it was wrong – to lead girls on, to coax them into bed, and then never speaking to them again. He knew it led to deserved hate toward him. Yet, it was so difficult for Ben to care. To stop. This was one thing he had that Darren didn’t; a wiped out conscience. God knew that he would utilize it to his advantage.

Although Darren had no idea, Ben held secrets that could change both their lives. For example, Ben had slept with Kat, Darren’s girlfriend, only two weeks after Kat and Darren became a couple. It was sick, and he knew it. He knew that he should have told Ben. But in the real world, where they had been thrown, the truth was unnecessary; a hindrance of sorts.

“Ben, darling, do you have any dishes up here? I’m starting the dishwasher right now!” Ben’s mom said with her usual smile. When Ben described his mom, the only term that came to mind was “goodwife.” She was obedient, domesticated – everything that a man wanted in a wife. Yet, Ben had grown up to be the opposite of everything his parents represented. He had become the epitome of the bad seed.

He knew it hurt his parents. They tried to keep a blind eye toward it, but they knew that he wasn’t even close to perfect. But they were too nice to reprimand him for anything. So he kept going. He kept doing what he was doing with no regrets and hurting the people that he was hurting with no cares.

That was what mattered to him. So why shouldn’t he?