Unfix Me

Chapter 2

Kai

God, my poor balls. I adjusted myself as I went down the stairs, not really caring if anybody watched me. I just received the full body weight of a man directly to my freaking sack. They could give me some space.

When it happened, I almost lost my shit. Anger was a pretty natural reaction to that sort of thing. I’d been prepared to punch the guy to teach him to move slower through the halls, but he looked so terrified and I didn’t want to traumatize him or make an enemy before classes even started. Since he was with West, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

I was the type of person who enjoyed interacting with a variety of people. I wasn’t like West, who was overtly exuberant to the point of being annoying, but I liked hanging around others. On my terms, of course. From my brief interaction with Sen, I found myself curious about him. He seemed kind and since he’d made friends on the first day, I assumed he was social enough. For some reason, though, it felt like he didn’t like me.

Maybe I came across as rude. That happened sometimes. Apparently, I had a resting bitch face or something.

Didn’t matter. There were so many people in this damn school that one person’s opinion wasn’t important. Starting tomorrow, I was going to have plenty of things to keep me busy. Between classes and football, I’d be lucky if I had time to dawdle while I took a shit.

After I’d squeezed through the crowded halls, I exited the building. It was only a hundred feet to the courtyard, which I had a nice view of from my window. I enjoyed people watching. It was fun to guess where they were going or what they were thinking.

Someone stood from a bench and I hurried over to it. I kicked my legs up so that nobody could sit beside me, then pulled out my phone and dialed my mom.

“Kai,” she answered, taking on a scolding tone. “You were supposed to call an hour ago.

I smiled at the sound of her voice. “Sorry. It’s a zoo around here.”

“How is it with all the students coming in? How’s West?”

“It’s fine and he’s good. I ran into him a few minutes ago. Don’t worry. I’ll tell him you miss him.”

She snorted, then chuckled. “Keep him out of trouble. The last thing that boy needs is for his dad to find out he’s getting into things he shouldn’t.”

“I always do, Mom.”

Glancing up at the third floor, I counted the windows until I found mine. Right beside it, there was a figure in one of the windows. His dark blonde hair was disheveled as if he’d run his hand through it. I couldn’t see his honey-colored eyes from here and I wondered if there was less fear in them now.

What was he afraid of? It was probably just all of the stress. I didn’t think any of us were at our best right now.

As I watched him, he continued to stare absently down at the courtyard. He seemed pretty at peace. Probably because his balls weren’t aching right now. The least he could do was offer to buy me dinner. An ice pack would suffice.

“West is already making new friends,” I went on.

“Of course he is. He’s never struggled to talk to anyone in his life.”

I knew that wasn’t quite true, but mostly. We were well-liked in high school and while I was pretty social, West thrived on any and all interactions with others. He loved the attention but was actually a genuine person. If he wasn’t, we wouldn’t get along the way we did. I might go so far as to call him my best friend. We protected each other in different ways throughout our lives and that bred a sort of bond that couldn’t be forced. Camaraderie, brotherhood, whatever you wanted to call it.

“How’s Dad doing?” I asked.

There was an audible sigh on the other end, then some shuffling. A door clicked shut and I heard a dog barking in the distance. Probably the neighbor’s terrier, Buttface. That wasn’t his given name, but I’d assigned it to him after he kept me from a good night’s sleep for almost a week straight.

“He asked about you this morning,” Mom said. “He wanted to know if you were home yet so that he could ask you about your first day.”

My eyes fell closed. “Tell him that I love him, okay? I’ll send lots of pictures.”

“Yes, do that. He’ll be ecstatic to see you in your jersey. He’s so proud of you, baby.”

“I know. Tell me if anything gets worse.”

“Of course. You’ll be the first to know. And don’t worry yourself so much. This is good for you, Kai. The two of you talked about this for so long, since you were barely even able to talk. It’s where he wants you.”

My mind replayed memories of those days- my dad dressing me in his too-big jersey, football birthday parties, and learning to play with him in the backyard. It felt like ages ago. When I got accepted to Harmon University of Seattle, he should have been jumping for joy and taking us all out to dinner. I wasn’t able to tell him, though. Not until later when he felt a little better. There was excitement in his eyes, but it quickly faded.

“Kai?”

Clearing my throat, I sat up straighter. “I’m here, Mom. Keep me updated, yeah?”

“I love you, baby. So does Dad.”

“I love you guys too.”

After I ended the call, I looked at the building again. Sen was still standing there, but now his gaze was on me. When he saw that I’d noticed him, he quickly returned to staring at anything else. He looked over his shoulder as if someone was talking to him, then he left the window.

The guy was kind of weird and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to unpack whatever the hell was inside of him. There was something, but I’d leave that to West. He was great at making people feel welcome around him. I used to be, but sometimes life threw things at you that dulled your spark and there were no magical jumper cables to light it back up. Maybe someday it would come back. I had a feeling it’d end up fizzling out completely with the way things were going back home.

My dad smiled at me behind my eyes. His hands pumped in the air from his place in the stands.

Shaking my head, I stuffed my phone in my pocket and started walking. Remaining idle was the worst thing for a troubled mind.

*****

Sweat streamed down my face, dripping into my eyes and mouth. I blew it out and used the back of my hand to wipe it away, but it was just as wet. Deciding it was useless, I reared my arm back and sent the ball soaring. It spun through the air with perfect precision, the kind that came from years of doing this exact thing repeatedly.

As soon as it left my hand, I started running. I’d probably done this fifty times already and my muscles were on fire. I never made it in time to catch the ball, but the practice was just to keep me quick on my feet and ensure I didn’t forget how to throw. It wasn’t like I often got the chance in my position as wide receiver, but outside of the real game, I loved this.

Football wasn’t my passion or the reason I came to school. It was something I loved, but I was here for the degree. Both me and West got different scholarships to come here and I didn’t think he’d come if I didn’t join the team, so of course, I joined.

The ball hit the ground ten yards ahead of me. I ran the rest of the way to it, then swept it off the ground. Dropping my head back, I sucked in as much air as I could. My head swam a little and the sun above me made my eyes spotty.

Everything became a blur suddenly. For a second, I thought I was falling, then I realized there was pressure against me and I was being carried over someone’s shoulder.

With a frustrated growl, I slammed my fist into West’s back. “Let me go, you asshole.”

He spun in a circle, which triggered a wave of nausea in my exhausted state. When he finally put me back on my feet, he grabbed my biceps to keep me steady.

“You’re disgusting,” he said, wrinkling his nose. He looked at the damp spot on his shoulder. “Gross.”

“Don’t pick people up when they’re sweaty.”

He grinned and swiped the ball from the place I’d dropped it. “Why are you practicing alone?”

“You were busy.”

“Aw. Jealous, baby?”

I rolled my eyes and tried to grab the ball, but he pivoted. My fist connected with his stomach and when he bent forward, I took the opportunity to steal it from him and sent it flying across the field.

“Damn, you’re a grump,” he groaned. “What’s going on?”

“Just practicing and getting harassed by you, as usual.”

West stroked the stubble on his jaw. It made him look like a Victorian-era man in his study, contemplating science and the universe. When his bright blue eyes met mine, there was understanding there.

“I’ll throw, you catch,” he said before he took off. He turned around and started jogging backward with a wry smile. “Even though I know that you like to throw.”

I held up my middle finger. His laugh carried across thirty yards and I couldn’t help but smile. West was a bit of a bastard and very much an attention whore, but he knew when I wanted to talk. Even better, he knew when I didn’t. He was privy to what was going on since he was almost as much a part of my family as I was. I was grateful that he didn’t feel the need to make me address it.

The ball came toward me and I headed in the direction it would land. When it was in my hands, I felt a rush of satisfaction. There was something beautiful, almost healing, about this. Maybe it was because some of my first memories involved me holding a football. Or it could be the simple wholesomeness of being around West when it was just the two of us. No expectations and we could just exist while doing something we both enjoyed.

As we continued to throw the ball, my mind shifted to thoughts of our future here. Between football and classes, I could only hope that we had time to do other things. I didn’t want us to grow apart.

I wasn’t jealous that West had other friends already. He was my brother in everything but blood. I just didn’t want things to change too much.

“Bro, where’s your head?”

I refocused and found West jogging toward me with his arms up in a ‘What the hell?’ gesture. The ball was a few yards behind me and I’d completely missed it.

“Sorry. I was just thinking.”

He grabbed the ball, then paused in front of me. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving and you look like shit.”

Now that he said it, I realized how hungry I was. I’d been out here for hours and I probably smelled like the dead. With a nod, I started heading back toward campus. West chattered the whole way, going on about all the people he met today and how he was nervous that his roommate didn’t like him already.

“You’re worrying for nothing,” I assured him. “Everybody likes you.”

There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. He cleared it quickly and launched into another story about his disdain for shared bathrooms. I think we all agreed with that sentiment.