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Ethan
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"You good, kiddo?"
Wyatt asked, plopping his a*s beside me. I uncapped the water bottle and emptied its contents into my mouth, without answering him. My upper arm winced at my impact.
He took my left hand in his and start bandaging it up from the shoulder blade, careful not to hurt.
"I am sorry," I croaked out. I had lost the tournament.
"It is okay. I really do not give a f**k about that. But what is wrong with you? You mind was not in the game."
"I am fine-"
"Oh shut up with that crap, Ethan. I have known since what- when you were eight maybe. I have trained from the age of thirteen. You are saying that you are okay when I myself can see that you are not?" Wyatt asked rolling his eyes.
I turned my head away from him.
"I do not know what is bothering
