T-minus: 07:12:35.
I brush the comb over my messy hair to straighten it out into the neat, bowl style I love. Nothing like an early morning shower to uplift my mood even further.
And boy am I in a damn good mood today.
I whistle to myself as I continue to groom in front of the bathroom mirror. I may be a guy, but that's no excuse to go out every morning looking like a Fourside hobo. Classy dudes gotta have cleaning standards too.
I hear the door open. Normally I would've yelled at whoever just came in without knocking to get the fuck out, and hope it's not mom, but today I allow it.
"…is that you whistling?"
"Yeah. How you like my rendition of Jingle Bells, Trace?"
"Is that what it was?" She says. "I thought it was a dude getting his intestines pulled out through his mouth."
Ugh. The image.
"That snarkiness will get you real far in life, sis."
"Whatevs, now put on a shirt and get out, it's my turn to use the bathroom." She tosses my striped shirt at my face and jams a thumb to the door.
"I'm not done with my hair yet." I say as I pull the shirt over my body.
"Polish a shit pile, it's still a shit pile. Now get out."
I merely grin and remain where I am. Tracy huffs and tries to push me out, and I relent, letting her shove me roughly out of the bathroom, pleading for mercy… heh, yeah right. I root myself in front of the vanity, barely acknowledging the weak shoves she's exerting, and continue to brush my hair in slow motion.
Finally she sighs in defeat. "Fine. Can you please hurry up, dear brother of mine? I would like to use the washroom, s'il te plaît."
I shake my head. "I only understand Dalaamese."
Tracy snorts. "Fine. Qin nin rang wo yong ce suo, xin ma?"
I blink, then turn to frown at her. She smiles widely back at me.
"That could've been an utter load of bullshit for all I know."
"NESS IF I HEAR YOU USE ANOTHER CURSE WORD IN THIS HOUSE, I WILL SELL THAT AUTOGRAPHED RED ROX CAP OF YOURS. NOW GET OUT AND LET YOUR SISTER USE THE WASHROOM."
Just my luck, I suppose. Though I guess from certain points of view (I give Tracy one last glare, which she returns with a deft smirk) it could be interpreted as karma.
I rush downstairs before mom can lecture me about language usage. I say a quick goodbye to our phone, and swing the car keys off the hanger. Thank god the snow's melted enough for me to reacquaint with my precious baby. Hope she's not too upset I've neglected her for a few weeks.
T-minus: 07:01:22.
Oh, she's upset all right. Real upset. As in upset enough to refuse to freaking run.
I try again for the 874th time, turning the ignition. I hear the engine sputter, then fail to turn over.
God. Damn it.
Well, guess an exceptionally crappy winter and a few weeks buried under snow is what it takes to screw over my car. The more you know.
So now what? School starts in 15 minutes, and walking'll take me like 30.
I get out of the car and flip open my phone, dialing Paula, who I was supposed to pick up. Tracy appears beside me, asking what's going on, and I tell her.
"So the piece of junk's finally out of commission? 'Bout time." My sister says.
"Hey, that happens to be my precious baby you're insulting. Say sorry."
She looks at me with a thoroughly annoyed face. "You've lost it. And now we're gonna be late for school because your baby is hospitalized."
"We won't be late, I'm calling Paula now… yeah, hello?" I hear the other side pick up, then my face drops. "Oh, erm, yes, hello Mr. Polestar…"
"Where are you? You're supposed to pick up my daughter 4 minutes and 13 seconds from now! Goodness, it's a mystery what she sees in such a tardy boy like you…"
I grit my teeth. "Yes, well sir, you see, my car is having mechanical difficulties, so I was wondering-."
"Mechanical difficulties? What on earth do you mean? Is your car not up to standards? To think I've been letting my precious Paula risk her life riding in your grievous death trap for 4 months now-."
"Mr. Polestar! Please, can you-."
"Don't interrupt boy! Good gracious, unmannered and unpunctual, such an unruly low class child! I must try again to convince Paula out of this cancerous relationship…"
"…"
"…not only is being with you a hazard to her own safely, it tarnishes the Polestar name to think that a boy like you has even a remote chance of marrying into the family. How your own parents raised you is blatantly much too lenient…"
"…"
"…but my sweet Paula seems convinced that you are the perfect one for her! Even now I see subtle hints of your influence upon her personality… youth these days, so impressionable, so foolish…"
"…"
"…now then, what is it that you require?"
"Mr. Polestar, due to unforeseen circumstances regarding the status of my car," I say in a slow, heavily repressed voice, "May I request Paula pick my sister and I up in her vehicle to go to school please?"
"Fine, fine. Such utter foolishness… back in my days, a gentleman waiting on a lady's escort is unheard of… Alright, she will be there shortly. And let this be the last instance of your regrettable character, Mr. Ness."
"Certainly, sir."
With a click, the phone cuts. I realize I'm clenching the car keys in my other hand so hard it's digging into my skin painfully.
"Wow, that old guy's an asshole." Tracy comments.
"You heard, huh?"
"He was practically yelling into the phone. I actually feel somewhat sorry for you, having to deal with him."
"Yeah, well, Paula's worth it." I say. "Still, I wonder how he'll react when we eventually tell him we've been boning every chance we get under his roof when he's not in the house."
Tracy laughs, and we high five. I feel myself cheering up again.
I will not let some old fart ruin my good mood.
T-minus: 06:40:20.
"Why are you late for class, Ness?" Mr. ¾ Legs, aka my English teacher, asks.
"Because my damn car broke down, so I had to call my girlfriend to pick me up. But she drives so freaking slowly, and we needed to get to school fast to find a parking place, so I urged her to run a stop sign, and lo and behold the one time we break the law the goddamn stupid police pulls us over, and after a whole bunch o' blah-blah-blah from the idiot cop, we avoided a ticket, but couldn't find parking anymore, so we settled for one across the street, and had to take like 5 more minutes walking over here, so that's why."
The teacher raises an eyebrow.
I sigh. "Because I'm tardy."
He sneers triumphantly. "See to it that you're more punctual next time, Ness. Now sit down."
Are all adults assholes? Like, is that something they teach people who turn 21, how to be complete prudes to the younger generation? Or is there something in the coffee they like to drink so much?
I slump down onto my seat, noticing the sympathetic, yet dickish grin Fuel sends from beside me.
A few days back, I decided to take a chance and asked Fuel just what was up with him and that Lucas kid. To quote his answer: "That's not something I wanna talk about right now, and I know you're gonna ask again, so I'm telling you to stop. I respected your request to not beat up that stupid kid, so please stop rubbing it in by asking questions about us." Needless to say, I never pressed the issue, but now I can't help but be awfully curious.
Other than that, he hasn't changed at all. It's good to see he hasn't deviated from his usual quirkiness despite the whole getting-punched-in-the-face incident.
I should also probably stop assuming all my friends are emotionally unstable pussies.
T-minus: 05:30:11.
"Alright class, we've got 2 minutes left, so would everyone please hand in their assignments." The English teacher demanded.
Don't worry, I got it covered. I turn to the desk neighbour to my right.
"Yo Jeff, you got my assignment ready, right bud?" I whisper.
"Oh, err, sorry Ness, I don't have it."
I stare. Man my ears must be sore from Mr. Polestar's yelling, 'cause I'm almost certain that Jeff just said he didn't have my assignment. Ha, yeah right. Jeff would never fail me.
But after a solid 15 seconds, the geek has still not procured the stack of papers that is my assignment that he surely has finished for me, right?
"Umm, Jeff? This grade's kinda important, so can you just, like, stop joking around and gimme the papers?" I grin uneasily.
"I apologize, Ness, but I simply did not have time to complete two essays over the last week." He says with a straight face, thick glasses leveling with me.
I turn to the front, where the rest of the class is lined up, dropping thick stacks of stapled paper into the to-be-marked bin. I'm starting to feel nervous sweat form on my neck.
I lean my head over to Jeff's desk, keeping an eye on the teacher in the front. "What the hell, man?" I hiss. "Dude, you promised me you'd finish it for me!"
"I nary made such promise. You just came up to me, asked me to do the assignment, gave me a pat on the back, and ran off before I could form an answer."
"…nary?" I repeat.
"It is a rather archaic term denoting-."
"Never mind that. C'mon Jeff, you can't just leave me hanging like this, I thought we were buds." I plead.
"I am aware," Jeff sighs. "But… sometimes, Ness, I feel like our mutual friendship is not as close as you claim. In fact, I have the slight suspicion that you, as well as your group of friends, may be taking advantage of me."
I slowly place a hand on Jeff's shoulder. "Jeff. I don't know what sort of hallucinogens you are taking, but you, as the resident genius of our town, of all people should know that would never be the case."
"Well, I am glad, but either way, I have acquainted myself with another, and I must say, he is most delightful company. I am quite enjoying myself alongside his presence. In fact, we stayed up all night yesterday finding the derivatives of randomly generated curves, quite a blast…"
…I'm pretty sure he's still speaking a known language.
"Gentlemen! Do you have your papers ready for grading?" Our teacher calls from his desk.
"Ah, yes sir, right here." Jeff reaches into his bag and fishes out a monstrously thick binder, which he hauls to and dumps on our teacher's desk.
Mr. ¾ Legs turns to me. "And yours, Mr. Ness?"
…fuck me. No getting out of this one.
"…I don't have it, sir." I say lamely.
The asshole shows another one of his sneers, like he was expecting that answer from me. "Mr. Ness, you could use a lesson on diligence, perseverance. You need to learn to work hard. Take Mr. Poo for example. English is not his native language, yet he currently holds the highest mark in this class."
Is he really? I turn to Kung Fu Poo, who stands and bows, his ponytail swinging over his shoulder.
"Thank you for your kind words, sensei."
How the fuck is this dude getting the highest grade? Freakin' Dalaamians and their study regime.
The bell rings to signal first period's end. I catch up to Jeff, who's picking up his Physics textbook from his locker.
"Jeff, that was not cool." I chastise, but in a nice kind of way. I can't exactly bring myself to sound threatening to the guy who has done half my homework for the past 4 months.
"I'm quite sorry, Ness, but perhaps this would be a great time for you to get into the habit of doing your own work?" Jeff says, hugging his binders and books in front of him.
"Well… I guess, but…" I sigh. All I really wanna do is muddle through school without really making an effort, while at the same time getting high enough grades to suspend my career prospects. But I'm not smart enough to just cut through the coursework without studying, so… damn, I guess I should start 'trying'.
"Well, can I at least call you for help next week when I need it with my English and Physics stuff, Jeff ol' buddy ol' friend ol' pal?" I put on my most convincing smile.
"Oh, erm, I would be happy to, but I have already made plans with Tony to go visit Winters, apparently he's quite interested in my father's research work, interest that none of you have ever shown, I might add."
I narrow my eyes. "Who's Tony?"
Turns out, Tony is the new acquaintance that Jeff has become oh so fond of, mainly because he 'thinks on the same cognitive plane as him'. And apparently, Jeff likes this Tony dude so much, that he no longer has any more time in the future to even help me study.
This is a really bittersweet feeling. It's clear Jeff is finally distancing himself from us and finding a friend who he can be happier with, and I'm more or less proud of him for that. But that means no more socially awkward nerd that can be easily talked into doing our work in our group. And I can't exactly bring myself to force Jeff to do our homework. Tracy may call me a jock, but at least I'm a progressive jock. Bullying is so 199X.
So to prove to Jeff and myself that I can get through alone, I pay the utmost attention in the following Physics class, taking good notes and actively trying to answer questions without help.
My verdict? Goddamn Physics is hard.
I hold my head in frustration, realizing just how much more of my own free time I have to spend in the future to make sure I don't fall behind, and just how much I've been taking Mr. Jeffrey Andonuts for granted.
T-minus: 03:50:22.
I feel like I'm supposed to learn a lesson here, and that's if you work hard, and take time to become a better person, life will reward you.
So after Physics today, I went up to the teacher of my own free will, and asked for advice on how to understand the material better. Then with her help, I organized my notes and set myself up for some good, hard studying when I get home.
And how did life reward me?
I got to the cafeteria late, they ran out of food, and now I'm dragging myself to Art on an empty stomach.
Okay maybe that's not a completely fair way of looking at things. What can I say, so far the day has set me up for nothing but pessimism.
Trudging down the near empty hallway, I begin hearing echoes of familiar voices coming down the hall. I magnetize toward the voices, always eager to strike conversation with buddies.
As I get nearer and nearer, the voices become decipherable. One was the unmistakable low tenor of Ninten, and the other the soft but strong voice of… Ana?
I remember back when hearing Ninten and Ana's voices together alone was nothing out of the ordinary. But now… I pick up the pace, and their words become clearer and clearer. I don't like that I can detect urgency and pleading in Ninten's voice. What's going on…?
Turning one last corner, their voices immediately become crystal clear.
"…least you can do is tell me why!" Ninten shouts in a desperate voice.
"I… I can't, Ninten. I really can't bring myself to tell you." Comes Ana's soft, but equally distressed reply.
"No, don't give me that bullshit. Tell me now."
"Language, Nint-."
"I DON'T CARE IF I'M FUCKING SWEARING OR NOT!" Ninten roars. "All I know is that you're going back to Snowman without telling anybody, and without giving a damn good reason why!"
My face is probably losing colour. I stare bewilderedly at them, they don't even seem to notice me standing here yet.
"They why don't you give me a reason to stay!" Ana screams back, stomping her foot on the floor. "Tell me why I should stay in this miserable place with such miserable people like you! You only pretend to be this kind, calm person on the outside, while the true you is a short-fused fool who's completely lost his path! And what's worse is that I actually fell for that façade of yours and dated you!"
Ninten's gonna hit her, I know it. Look at him, he has his fists scrunched up, he's shaking with anger…
…But he doesn't. In fact he seems to be deflating a bit, shoulders slumping and head looking down. I guess the lack of a violent reaction from Ninten is softening Ana too, as her face transitions into an almost apologetic look.
And as for me? I feel dizzy, like quite literally, dizzy. I don't know how to take this… Ana's leaving, going back to her hometown, without telling anyone. She's leaving. She's leaving us.
She's leaving Ninten…
"Ann, please, don't leave." Ninten begs softly. There are cracks in his words. "We can work things out, I swear we can. Just… don't go…"
Ana lets out a long sigh. She raises a hand and touches Ninten's face. Ninten holds her hand there.
"I'm sorry babe, it's for the best. It really is."
She pulls her hand away, and turns to leave. Ninten doesn't move to stop her.
Why isn't the dumbass stopping her!?
"And what about us?" I shout, finally unable to hold my silence. They both snap their looks to me, eyes wide in shock. "You think that you can just leave all of us like this? You really think it's best for all of us for you to just disappear?!"
I feel this utterly uncomfortable pressure inside me, and all I wanna do is yell at my two idiot friends until it disappears. The look on their faces as they realize just how much of their private conversation I've heard just infuriates me even more.
"Am I the only one who can see how utterly stupid this whole thing is?" I shout, waving my hands. "The most perfect couple on the planet spontaneously breaks up, leaving their friends to deal with the awkward backlash, and now you're gonna make things worse by LEAVING!?"
Ana silently stares at me with an expressionless face. I fucking hate expressionless faces!
"Can't you two just stop this stupid drama and just GET BACK TOGETHER AGAIN!?" I yell hoarsely. "Back to when you were all happy and lovey-dovey and perfect and not all awkward around each other and… and…" I lose my voice.
Ninten suddenly looks away from me. Ana closes her eyes and sighs.
"Like, come on guys." I smile shakily. "Ana, there's nothing for you back in Snowman, just a big church and a bunch of old timers. You belong here, with us, your friends… with Ninten, your boyfriend."
Ana shakes her head. No, nonono don't you shake your head…
"I'm sorry Ness, but Ninten and I aren't the happy couple you want to believe we are." She says quietly but clearly.
"What?" I frown.
"And I'm going, and there's nothing you can say to change my mind." Ana finishes. She then offers a weak smile. "Goodbye, Ness."
Goodbye, Ness? That's how she's gonna end it? Oh, no way.
She turns her back to me and beings walking away again, and I chase after her.
"Ana. ANA STOP! ANA WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU-." I'm cut off and stopped mid stride by Ninten, who places himself in front of me with his back turned to his former girlfriend.
"What are you doing she's leaving!" I say frantically, trying to get around him.
"Let her." He says dully.
"Dude, that is your girl and future wife walking out the door and-."
"She's right, Ness."
I stop. "What?"
"We're not the happy couple you think we are." Ninten concludes.
"What the fuck do you mean by th-."
"C'mon, lemme treat you to some burgers, I can hear your stomach growling." He says suddenly, with an all too happy grin on his stupid face, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and leading me away from the hallway.
I don't get it. I really don't. One minute he's pleading with Ana not to leave, and the next he just lets her walk out the door without any objection. And now what I'm getting is that apparently they weren't happy as boyfriend and girlfriend. I hate not understanding people, especially my best friends. I thought I knew them, I really did.
But I let him lead me away, knowing there's no point questioning him further when he doesn't want to talk about it, and that he really needs time to think things through.
Hell, I need time to think things through.
We just lost Ana.
What now?
T-minus: 02:35:11.
At this point I wonder if I should just abandon the countdown, this has just been such a crappy day. But then again, that's what'll make hitting 0 more gratifying, I guess.
"Ness."
I turn around, mildly surprised that Blondie's initiating conversation.
"Are you alright?" He asks me.
Okay now I'm really surprised.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Since when are you worried about how I am?" I ask back in an unrequited rude tone.
He shrugs. "You just seem more out of it than usual."
He's not wrong. I've been sitting in Art class thinking about Ana's back as she walked away from Ninten and I. I guess I must look really blank, just sitting there staring ahead, not doing or reacting to anything.
Though right now I'm raising an eyebrow at how Blondie apparently noticed this and is even asking questions about it. I didn't think he'd care.
"Stuff's on my mind." I answer vaguely, thinking of ways to avoid the next question he'll surely pose.
…or not. He just nods and turns back quietly to his drawing. I wonder if he sensed that I don't wanna talk about it. Or more likely, he doesn't give a damn. But then why did he ask if I was… fuck it, why am I even spending so much brainpower on this?
I glance at Blondie's drawing. It looks like a dragon or something, and inside he wrote some word, the first three letters of which are bolded black.
'Ryuka'.
"It's my name."
I start a little, not expecting that. I look up to see him staring at me.
"What?"
"It's how my name's pronounced in Kyotonese." He says. "Y'know, that island country beside Dalaam."
"I know where Kyoto is, I'm not stupid." I snap, turning away. I have a small notion to keep listening, but I want to be stubborn and continue to act apathetic towards him. I already feel kinda embarrassed being caught looking at his drawings.
"When you translate 'Lucas' into Kyotonese, you get a word that's pronounced 'Ryuka'." He continues, apparently not caring if I'm interested or not. "'Ryu' means dragon in Kyoto, so that's where I got the inspiration to draw this."
"Yeah, okay, I don't care." I snap, then immediately regret it. I'm being such a jerk, jeez.
I hear him let out a long breath. "Fine. I was just trying to take your mind off whatever's bothering you." He mutters, then turns away from me.
I'm a bit bewildered. Not only did he notice something off with me, he made an attempt to pull me out of my moody well with light conversation. This is all coming after 4 months of complete silence, may I remind you. Is he trying to act nicer around me now that he's stuck as my project partner? Or is this just his character? Either way, I feel like I've missed something in that exchange.
T-minus: 01:55:33.
Somebody should replace the batteries on that damn clock, I feel like it's going slower the more I stare at it. Art's almost over. Then only an hour or so left…
"Hey."
I turn around to find Mr. Dragonborn Blondie Lucas again trying to talk to me. I don't respond.
"We need to meet up to work on our project. Pick a time and place."
Ugh… I'm not in the mindset to think about that now…
"I don't really care, you decide." I mutter, leaning back in my seat and folding my arms.
"Okay, fine. I'll come over to your place Sunday morning. Where do you live?"
I narrow my eyes at him. "Excuse me?"
"Where do you live?"
It strikes me odd that of all the places to go, he picks my house first. "Why can't we go to the library?"
He looks at me strangely. "…the library's roof was damaged by the snow, it's closed for a few months while they repair it."
Was it really? Well guess it goes to show you how much I pay attention to the going-ons of my town. "Well, let's go to the community centre then."
"That's on the other side of Onett."
"Fine then. We'll go to your place." I say, annoyed.
"Most people wouldn't wanna deal with my useless, alcoholic, violence prone dad."
That catches me completely off guard. I study his face, but it shows nothing but the usual annoyingly plain look that I've come to identify him with.
"What was that?" I slowly ask.
"You heard me clearly the first time. My point is can I please come over to your place to do our project?"
I catch a little something in that last sentence. Stress? Anger?
Personally, I don't sit well with anybody insulting people's parents, including their own. Then again I guess not everyone can be lucky enough to have the mom and dad that I do. But still, they way he described his father seems a bit overly hostile…
Either way, I don't really want Blondie anywhere near my home, y'know, the place where my personal life exists. But he could put forth the same argument…
I sigh. "Fine." I rip out a piece of paper from my binder. I pause for a few seconds before scribbling an address and phone number on it, and hand it to him.
He takes it, looks it over, then gives me a smile that doesn't seem as annoying as his usual smirk.
"Thanks, Ness. I'll be over at 11 on Sunday, is that fine?"
"Yeah, yeah, whatevs." I wave him off, trying to sound neutral.
In my head I'm grinning like crazy though. The phone number I gave him is real, but the address is fake. It's around 3 kilos from school, but in the complete opposite direction of my house. Wish I can be there to see his face when he starts knocking on some stranger's door.
A little payback, if you will, for the first day shenanigans he did.
…is it healthy to dwell on that for so long? Oh well.
T-minus: 01:30:30.
I found Paula after Art, and broke the news of Ana's abrupt goodbye.
First she didn't believe me, which was the reaction I expected. Then she got really angry at me for not trying harder to stop her, yelling and flailing her arms around. Then she hugged me and sobbed into my shirt.
Paula and Ana are practically sisters (conveniently looking alike as well). To say that Ana's unannounced departure really upset my girlfriend is quite the understatement. After all, you would not expect your best friend to suddenly leave without even letting you know. It's basically against best friend code.
So now I'm holding Paula as she sniffles and mutters harsh obscenities about Ana, whispering what I hope are comforting words to her.
Damn it Ana… see what you're doing…
T-minus: 01:04:02.
We're having a badminton tournament of all things in Gym class.
I can't even imagine how this sport was invented. Like, did someone just one day decided to pick up a dead budgie from the ground and started hitting it around with a snowshoe or something?
The point is, I suck at badminton.
God I just want the day to be over.
T-minus: 00:41:22.
You know who doesn't suck at badminton? Dalaamians.
Admittedly it's entertaining watching Poo jump around, smashing birdies all over the opposing court, utterly destroying all non-oriental competition.
Oh well. Let's see if he can keep this up during hockey.
T-minus: 00:27:53.
I actually got pretty far in before being dominated by Kung Fu Poo.
I learned it's easier to hit a birdie with a racquet than a baseball with a bat.
T-minus: 00:13:11.
We clap unenthusiastically for Poo as he bows for winning the official 11C Gym Badminton Tournament Trophy.
T-minus: 00:07:46.
I can't wait to feel the elation and relief of stress that the end of the countdown will bring.
T-minus: 00:04:38.
My gym clothes smell weird. I'll have to remember to throw 'em in the hamper when I get home.
T-minus: 00:03:21.
I can see the door that I'll be rushing out of…
T-minus: 00:02:00.
So close…
T-minus: 00:01:55
"Ness, I need to talk to you for a second please." The Gym teacher says.
What? There's only like a minute left!
I dash up to him, trying to not seem impatient. What does he need to talk to me about anyways?
"What is it sir?"
"Ness, as your Baseball coach, you know it's never easy to tell anyone on my team this…"
Quick detail I should've told you: Gym teacher's also my Baseball coach. And immediately I'm really not liking the way this conversation's headed.
"Especially not to you, because I can tell just how much you love the sport." Coach continues gruffly. "It's hard to find kids these days so passionate about anything, so having you around the team's a real pick-me-up for-."
"Sir, don't sugar-coat it. Just tell me what I need to hear." I interrupt. Because I can foresee what he's about to lay on me, and I can feel the pit forming in my stomach for the hundredth time today.
He sighs. "Always the direct one, ain't'cha? Alright Ness. Bottom line is that you either perform better or you're off the Meteors."
No… no it does not work like that. Ness does not get kicked off his baseball team. Ness loves the sport of baseball and Ness does not want to hear that he sucks too much to stay on his school's shitty team!
"B-but sir, I'm trying the best I can, I really am! Please don't take me off coach!"
"I don't want to, Ness." Coach says. "I know that you wanna stay on the team and Ninten and Fuel have been adamant about keeping you around… but you know that our school's team has been the joke of the division for a long time now. I want to build a team that can prove our worth this year, and that means that I have to cut players who aren't performing."
I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. I stare up at my coach, silently pleading with him.
"You may know a lot about the sport Ness, hell I don't think even I can recount pro players' stats or technical percentages like you, but in the end all that matters is what you bring to the lineup, not the papers."
Suddenly the school's bells chime.
T-minus 0:00:00.
"Look at that, classes are over, it's winter break for you young'uns." Coach comments lightly. "Bet some of you were counting down every moment of the day to this like it was New Year's."
I say nothing.
"How 'bout this Ness, let's work out a proposition. I'll give you winter break to work on your batting. When you come back, we'll see how much you improved, and go from there! How's that sound?"
I manage a slight smile. "That's great… thanks sir."
T-plus: 00:01:01.
I'm waiting for the feeling of happiness and relief that the bell signalling the start of winter break should've brought, but I know that it's not gonna come.
My car's broken, my girlfriend's dad is on edge with me, my homework assistant has left office, my grades are in danger of crashing, my best friend's girlfriend and my girlfriend's best friend just walked out, and my position on the baseball team's in heavy jeopardy.
I have all that to work out over my two week 'vacation'.
Life's really fucked me.
