Two Kings

CHAPTER 2, COACH, COULD I ESCORT BALLS OUT?

It was until another day’s classes were dismissed before the awful news spread all over The Kings – or, at least to me, it was. During the P. E. class today, Coach Kyle, who was the coach of our basketball team and our P. E. teacher at the same time, saw Casey had the potential of playing basketball in tournaments when we were having another lesson with the dribble and shooting at the school’s basketball gym. So, without a doubt or any dilly-dallying in front of this shitty new student, Coach Kyle recruited Casey on the Kingstown’s high school basketball team, to which the new guy excitedly said yes.

I was so pissed at that moment, like I was literally beside Coach Kyle when all that happened! I heard the compliments our coach mouthed toward the new student and how Coach Kyle asked Casey to join the team. Another thing that infuriated me was Casey kept on snatching looks at me while our coach was talking to him. It was as if he was trying to annoy me because he was about to be on the team. He knew that I did not want him to.

Although I tried to have a word with Coach Kyle regarding the new recruit, I had no other choice but to accept Casey on the team. Yes, I was the team’s captain, but I was not the coach to decide who should be on the team and who should not. It was harder welcoming the new member than I thought it would be.

Just yesterday morning, my exhilaration was soaring high. I did not imagine it fading away only because of one hubristic transferee.

And I thought the team would not like him either. It turned out the other way around. Jeez, I was so jealous, honestly. Let us be real here in this story. I hated it when someone wanted to be like me – the famous typical jock – especially those who clearly wanted to take my place in this school. I earned what all I had so hard, so it would not allow anything to attempt stealing it from me, predominantly that newly-arrived balls, Casey.

The Kings were all on their way to the locker room, me included, preparing for this afternoon practice. Yet then Coach Kyle called me and asked to show Casey around. I was like in my head, “What? Seriously? That guy’s got hairs on his balls!” Annoyed by the favour and no time to complain, I just agreed without any word. I jogged and stopped at Casey’s side – it was not too hard to achieve, by the way – and tapped his shoulder before they reached the locker room. He was talking to Clay, another jock and part of the team. Clay said s**t at him. He said s**t at Clay. Then he faced me. To make everything clear, they were not literally exchanging shitwords to one another or whatever. I was not engaged in their conversation, so I did not know what to write here.

What was on my head while I was walking beside this guy was escorting him out of the gym. If only I could ask the coach, I would throw this new recruit away. But that was not what I did.

“We good?” he asked, impolite as always. There was no hope in me that Casey would ever be a nice person to talk to. When I took three seconds of silence because he was a living s**t, Casey jerked his head to me and happily smiled – open mouth, wide eyes – merely to add more irritation. I never doubted myself for what he was trying to do whenever beside me. Whether his real intention with those silly smiles, teasing attitudes, and vexing words were for me to be friends with him, I did not buy it. And I always thought those acts were his forevermore thing to make fun of me. “Are we gonna talk about who’s the real man here?” My forehead crumpled, eyebrows at the centre, but I did not move my head to let him see my upset face. The question suddenly made my mouth “pfft” in total disagreement and annoyance. “You wished for the impossible,” I returned bluntly. Casey looked to himself too high, but could not see his own bullshitness.

The shithead stopped, probably stunned that I killed his too-small-to-be-considered-important vain. It made me stop my steps too to get a see what his soggy pie face looked like when he heard my answer: Casey’s was in between confusion and amazement. And, did I mention this already before? Or in the pilot chapter? If not yet, Casey was ugly.

His little sister, with the nerdy, thick-framed glasses, who I still questioned the relation she had with this stinky balls in front of me, looked a lot more human than him! At least in my perception.

No joke!

When our eyes met the moment we both halted, Casey brought his smile back, yet I could still see the disbelief on his face, “Uh-huh?”

I said while taking steps forward, refusing to give a comment on what he just said, “What? Let’s go. Coach’s waiting.” But he stayed where he was, which I expected in him. This guy was not only a naturally-born i***t. He was also not a good listener, or maybe he was just too stupid to comprehend such simple orders and phrases. I would not be surprised if he brought her nerd little sister the letters H, I, J, K, L, M, N, and O when she specifically asked him for an H2O, as in the chemical formula for water.

“You think of me as the way you see everyone else here,” Casey’s tone of voice and the movement of his eyes at me were serious. But I caught a smile – a very small one – which I did not bother myself thinking of it. He was exactly right at what he just said. I did think of every student in this school as one who was too weak to stand up for themselves, unlucky with looks and appearance, lack of confidence, dying in envy and a piece of s**t.

I was glad he was able to see it through my words. Casey was not an i***t after all. Yet that did not change the fact that he was not a nice person enough to have a conversation with. The hatred I have towards him, although it had been just a day after seeing him there with Mrs Myers and with the circling crowd, was unbelievable. It was massive and burning that I could drown his-ass-self in it and suck all his air out of his body. Not drown him, literally. I suggest having an understanding of metaphors when reading my story. That could be useful in a lot of readings.

Going back to giving this story, I did not answer Casey with that. I did not even know what to say next or how would I go on the point of coming to him. This talk was not the talk I wanted to talk to him. All I wanted, as requested by Coach Kyle, was to show him the locker room. Thankfully, Casey wonderly questioned after I seemed he thought of why I came to him, “Tell me, why do you want to talk to me? A hothead guy like you wouldn’t just tap this healthy shoulder to have a casual convo, considering you hate me that much.” I actually wanted to hit him for sounding so galling and for the way he moved his shoulder as if he was implying he was stronger than me. But I resisted anyway. I knew there was a perfect moment for that. I just had to wait. For now, after resisting, I replied as normally as I could. I thought of not destroying the right time to tell him what Coach Kyle wanted. If so, I would be standing longer than I already had with the i***t, talking pure crap. And I detest that. “Simple. The coach wanted me to show you the locker room. You know, give you a tour or sort of. It’s actually stupid if you ask me.” I continued walking to the door. This time, Casey followed my tracks. And I was astonished because, for the first time, he agreed with me on something.

“Very stupid. And I am not that i***t to not know what a locker room looks like.”

“That’s what I thought too.” It was I who opened the door of the locker room. Almost all of the team were already on their comfortable basketball shirts and were now tying the lace of their shoes up. Some had their own practice jerseys. Different voices could be heard from the jocks and from each slam of the locker doors, and it created this likeable noise. I had always loved this noise in every pre-practice game. It gave me excitement. Oh, yes, I had forgotten to write. Casey did not like my response. He made a brief sound of disagreement. And I thought he rolled his eyes, sort of a girl.

I moved my head to my back to see his deserving-a-one-quick-but-deadly-punch face without ceasing my steps forward and, while spreading my arms on my side, I joyfully spoke, intending to appear as much annoying as he was always to me, “Welcome to The Kings’ locker room!” That was all I said to him, despite Coach Kyle would have expected more if he heard me at that point. And those were the only words I intentionally wanted to say the seconds we got inside of the room. I had it all planned from the beginning. Obviously, I wouldn’t like spending more of my time with Casey, so why let this ridiculous tour to the locker room consume a lot of time when I could have just easily told him what this room was? I knew that what I had said meant nothing to him as he already knew what was behind the door I opened prior we entered, but that was my whole point of annoying him.

Before we separated our ways and went to our own locker doors, I was a couple of steps far away from him already when Casey mouthed another looked for an answer he hoped he knew sooner before I talked to him. “Wait! Hold up, Flynn! Where’s exactly my locker here?” It was the first time I ever heard him call my handsome and sexy name. More or less, it did not sound right in my ears, given the fact his mouth was full of rude words.

Just as I had planned the first one from the beginning after Coach Kyle asked me to show Casey around, I had this one planned too – in case of this moment came between us. My approach to this insignificant question of his was different this time. I stopped, turned around to face him back with all my body, copied his irritating smiles and retorted while imitating the two hands in finger guns he did and pointed at me yesterday at this school’s entrance doors, “That’s yours to figure out, little dumbhead.” The reason for doing this, too, was mere to annoy him. He could not be the only one roaming this school while talking shits to students. That was my work too. And I did not wish to allow him and do the same thing to me without me doing the same thing to him. It was like two discordant neighbours throwing rocks at each other’s yards.

I caught him whispering, “Fucker,” on my back, but I did not give a damn care about that. I succeed in my plan of annoying him, and that was what mattered to me.

After that, I went to my locker.

One by one, the team was starting to march out of the door, excited for the first basketball practice for this new season. I was having a nice conversation with Nik about what came with that new guy Casey and me a little earlier while I was changing into my practising jerseys. I was then about to wear my left sock when Nik had already gone out with the other players. There were just about six or seven members of The Kings, including Casey and me, left inside the locker room and were still preparing. I was almost at the corner of the room, sitting on the longchair while wearing my practising shoes when I overheard Casey and Assy Arthur’s conversation. Who wouldn’t hear anyone talking here when this was a not-so-big changing room with showers on the other side.

Let me just had a quick, shitty introduction about this guy named Arthur. Well, he was a very good friend of mine – and of Nik’s, too – in the past years, until we became ninth-graders. That was the year he had a real high school girlfriend. But his relationship with this girl turned into smelly shits, and it ended up with him witnessing his girlfriend and me just kissing. Since that day, he blamed me for everything and hated me that much.

He even kept on reassuring me that he would get his damn revenge one day. But his hopes always let him down. The shithead could not even steal a ball from me every practice game. Not even once since he joined The Kings in the halfway basketball season during our tenth year. Why did I call him Assy Arthur? Because he was simply such an asshole.

Alright, enough with Assy Arthur. Casey and my former friend were standing near the exit door. They were talking about me. And expect that it was not a good discussion about me. Their voices were almost whispers, but I could hear them enough and clear. It was as if they wanted me to overhear their words on purpose to, again and again, infuriate me. If I was right, then I would be so stupid to act surprised. I mean, that was two unblessed earthlings right there talking whatever shits about me. Evidently, there was no chance they’d chew over how I brought to Kingstown the District Championship Trophy during my ninth grade after years since the Kingstown High School won something.

“Is he always like this?” It was Casey’s question to Assy Arthur, to whom he got the answer. “Who? Flynn? He thought everyone likes him being the typical high school jock when, honestly, everybody just hates him for that. He’s not the type of friend you would want to hang out with. He got bullshits. I don’t even understand why the team picked him as The Kings’ captain. You deserve the title if you ask me.”

Oooh, someone’s got jealous problems. Clearly, Assy Arthur had been doing his best the past months so he could get what I got. Yet, speaking of his bests that were just my practices back then, he couldn’t rise up to fame without the help of anyone, as I did. The way I saw that time, Assy Arthur was planning on using Casey’s looks, talent and everything to gain fame. And maybe to finally start his revenge on me.

“I may not have known him well, but I think you’re right,” Casey concurred on Assy Arthur’s covetousness. “He thinks too highly of himself. I gotta remind him where he should belong, don’t you think so?”

“You sure should.”

“Maybe take away the coach’s trust from him first. What do you think?”

Before Assy Arthur gave his answer, I interrupted their fascinating conversation out of my anger. One minute I was just listening to them at how envious they were of me, and now they were plotting to get me out of The Kings – a thing that I really, really cared and loved the most. I wouldn’t allow that to happen. I was all dressed and ready to hit my way out and onto the basketball gym. I stood up, calling Casey’s name for the first time. I was not showing or making it obvious on my face that I was angry. I behave quite the other way around – pretending. “Casey?”

The two of them looked at me in horror instantly, having the feeling that I had been listening to them this whole time. Casey answered in an unspoken language. He stared into my eyes and shrugged his shoulders a bit while he tilted his head. I pressed on, “There was something else that the coach wanted me to show you.”

Assy Arthur tapped Casey’s shoulder twice and went out of the door. Good for him because I did not want to see his face long enough. A few seconds later – that was after this room’s door made the closing bang and after I locked my locker door – I gestured my head to Casey for him to tail me, and then I followed Assy Arthur outside. But, instead of tracking the way back to the gym, I took different turns, which brought out Casey’s confusion. “Uhh, where are we going?” I never replied. The truth was, there was no something else that the coach wanted Casey to see. This was what I wanted Casey to see.

While we were getting closer to the destination I had in my mind, I started to feel different feelings at once: delighted, extremely displeased, nervous, angry and satisfied. I was walking a bit faster than Casey, and I was worried that it would spoil my surprise to him. But, not long enough after, we arrived there. I faced my whole body at him, enjoying his dumbfounded face while he was staring at the two-sided brown doors in front of him. Through its tiny windows, I could tell that Casey knew what was behind the doors. There were lights reflecting on his face, for all that I certainly knew no lights or other sort of light source that required electricity was behind these doors. It took him quite a moment before Casey asked.

“You are showing me twin doors that lead to the back part of this school. What is this exactly?”

I pushed one of the doors open without stepping outside. And as soon as the door began to make its way back slowly, I responded in purpose to enrage him, “I escorted you to the closest way out of the basketball gym because, you know, you really don’t belong to the team, balls.” I gestured my hand on the closing door, then added, “This is your moment to step back. You’re welcome, Casey.”

And then I left him standing there. I thought it worked out.