"So what would you like?" Edward asked, seemingly a little shaken by the mention of his teammate's cock as being 'nice'.
"Can you get me on the football team?" Jacob asked, bracing himself for the worst: Edward kicking him out of the car for such a horrible idea, leaving him lying in the gutter as he drives off into the horizon.
Jacob's fears were being realised with Edward's slightly prolonged silence. "Anything else?" Edward questioned, an apologetic look on his face as he glanced across at his new-found friend. When Jacob's shoulders slumped slightly, Edward explained, "it's just that I don't particularly have any say in it. I mean I'm in the good books with the coach, and he takes my advice seriously – I really only made the team 'cause of my field strategy ideas."
Jacob silently looked back out the window, not trying to act sulky, but he couldn't think of anything to say in response to his dreams being dashed with a furrowing of eyebrows on Edwards pitying face.
"Jacob, I can't get you on the team, but I can sure make it a lot easier." Jacob turned around to see Edward smiling a hopeful smile, not realising this was more than what Jacob had hoped for.
"Ok, what do I have to do?" Jacob almost chirped with excitement as he thought about his place back at the top, where he rightfully should be.
"Tryouts are in a few weeks, just leave it to me to work behind the scenes, I'll let you know when you're needed." And with that, Edward flashed a this-is-too-easy smile toward Jacob.
...
Jacob sat teetering on the edge of his bed, not knowing what to do with adrenaline coursing through him, picturing the chance he had been given. He looked over at his alarm clock, flashing a muted red glow into the darkness – it was barely past nine o'clock, yet he suddenly there was free time sitting in front of him where he had planned to be another man breathing heavily and pumping into his mouth.
Jacob felt like running, just like he always did when he had nothing else to do. The productivity that occurred even though nothing was actually happening made Jacob feel better about the fact that he was spending time away from homework or class assignments – such as the essay on some boring historical event that was sitting half-assed and half-done on his desk.
Reaching for his phone, Jacob realised that killing two birds with one stone was easier than he thought.
Want to go for a jog?
Jacob texted, crossing his fingers he would get a reply quickly.
Moving into the kitchen, Jacob quelled his hopes in the event a text would never arrive. He placed a plate of fridge-dwelling miscellaneous items in the microwave and pushed away the thoughts of having to commit to writing a passable essay – sitting down and working was the direct opposite of going out for a jog.
Just then, he heard his bedside table vibrating as he received a text, thanking whoever was out there that they granted his wish.
It's a bit late now, isn't it?
Jacob laughed as he looked out at the black sky and replied:
No. Meet you on the corner of the school's block?
Jacob waited...
And then finally:
Fine
...
Jacob loved the rhythm of running, the rhythm of his strong legs and strong feet hitting the hard, unforgiving ground. He remembered the times when he fell – painting the streets blood red – and never wanting to run again. But he persevered. His persistence produced a machine of muscle and stamina.
He always lost himself in when running; he would zone out and forget to watch where he was going or who was passing by – he would let his instincts take over.
It felt like only moments had passed when a pale figured blurred passed him as he jogged down the street. Jacob only snapped back to reality just in time to realise he had passed his company.
"You're pretty fast; that would have taken me at least an hour to run here," Jasper commented as Jacob turned back to meet him.
"Yeah I guess," Jacob smiled before apologising for not noticing him.
"That's fine. So why did you want to run now?" Jasper asked, slightly suspicious of Jacob's actions, and rightfully so.
"I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about the history essay?" For the second time that night, Jacob braced himself for the worst: Jasper punching him into the gutter and running off into the horizon.
"Sure," Jasper replied a little uneasily upon noticing Jacob's apprehensive expression, "what's wrong?"
"Oh, I just thought you might have said 'no' is all." Jacob turned and began to run along the path of the winding streets leading away from the school.
"Well what do you need to ask?" Jasper panted slightly as he caught up to Jacob; clearly he was already puffed out from the journey to get there.
"What do I need to say in it... the essay? I was never good with the politics of the Roman Empire," Jacob laughed; it was hilarious to him to think that anyone was.
And with Jacob's question as the spark, Jasper was a wild fire – uncontainable – in explaining the ins and outs of a place Jacob wasn't even certain he could place on a map. He wasn't stupid – regardless of his stereotype – he was actually quite clever, at least in comparison to the rest of his teammates back at his old school.
Jacob attempting to keep up with Jasper's monologue was paired with Jasper's attempt to keep up with Jacob's physical fitness. Before too long, Jasper was wheezing slightly, staggering more than running, and wanting to take a break, but pushing himself in order to not disappoint Jacob who was clearly a running fan. All the while Jacob was gliding along as he always had been; his long strides unbroken by the changing terrain of street to path to grass. He strong legs carried him faster in a jog than Jasper's legs could carry him in a sprint.
Jasper was beyond mesmerised by Jacob's physical abilities; his movements were easy and unlaboured and outshone Jasper by a country mile.
Jasper was somewhat leading the way, not particularly sure where Jacob wanted them to head, so he just chose the longest route he could think of back to his house so they could spend the most time out.
"Wait, so when was Caesar assassinated?" Jacob needed continual reiteration to allow for the tidal wave of information to sink in.
"Forty- four BC," Jasper responded, slightly irritated by the need to constantly repeat himself, assuming that Jacob just wasn't listening.
"Oh, so then he was..." Jacob went on to explain, but his recount of what Jasper had told him blended into the background and Jasper watched the metronome of Jacob's running. His strong feet hitting the ground with a thud; his calves flexing and shuddering under the force of his strides; his powerful thighs solidifying with the force of pushing off the ground and melting into fluid muscle to shake as he stepped back down; his ass bouncing with every step as they-
Just then Jasper found himself sprawled out on the ground, taking a moment to realise he was no longer looking at Jacob, but staring at the dusty ground and gravel he now lay on.
"Oh shit!" Jacob exclaimed, running back after realising he had lost his companion after a few steps.
...
Jacob held Jasper around the waist as the smaller boy's arm hung over his broad shoulders. He had helped Jasper walk the rest of the way to his house that he found with Jasper's direction.
Upon a quick analysis, it didn't seem like anything, but Jacob didn't want to risk Jasper walking on a broken ankle.
In an awkward twosome, they hobbled to Jasper's front lawn where they both kind of fell into sitting on the luscious green that felt like heaven after that strenuous walk home.
"Sorry," Jacob rubbed his neck as he let the guilt plague him; he was running pretty fast and it was him that invited Jasper out.
"It's most likely nothing," Jasper dismissed as he slowly undid his shoe, allowing any pressure of swelling that might happen release into the crisp night air.
There was a brief moment where both boys stared at Jasper's foot in anticipation for an elaborate explosion of swelling to occur within seconds, before they looked at each other, silently watching the other.
Then suddenly, "Alright, I'll see you later," Jasper blurted out, hoisting himself up onto his good foot.
Taken by surprise at Jasper's abruptness, it took a moment for Jacob to get up and offer to help him to the door.
"No, it's fin. I'm fine," he said as he hopped slowly to the front step, reaching the front door's knob just as a strong hand came up to support him under the arm.
"Seriously, it's the least I can do," Jacob admitted with a shiny grin.
Soon Jasper was sitting on his bed while Jacob awkwardly moved from foot to foot in the centre of his room.
"Well, thanks for the help," Jasper said, looking up at Jacob who was now even more towering with him sitting down.
"You were helping me remember," Jacob laughed quietly due to the presence of Jasper's sleeping parents he was told of lurking somewhere in the spacious house.
Jacob looked down at Jasper with a pang of guilt in his heart, causing it to thud heavily as he watched the shorter, golden-haired boy reach for his pyjamas before looking back at Jacob.
"What?" Jasper inquired, spotting the mixed expression on Jacob's face.
"Nothing, I just feel bad," Jacob replied, looking down at his feet.
"You don't have to, it was my stupid fault for getting distrac-" Jasper stopped short, feeling his face drain of blood; apparently going unnoticed by Jacob who just laughed at the thought of the incident, said good night with a broad smile and promised to have an amazing essay because of Jasper's help before leaving.
...
Falling back into his running trance, Jacob let the wisps of guilt shed off him and fly away, trying to picture Jasper as what he was – perfectly alright – as opposed to the image that his guilty mind created – an extremely maimed, innocent young boy.
And yet, with the guilt fluttering away – the tendrils of his guilty conscience lying on the road in his wake – Jacob still felt a mysterious twinge in his chest as he ran from the house of the kind and helpful young boy.