King of the Court [Chapter 17]

CONTENT WARNING: drug abuse

A/n: I'm a bit worried about how I wrote this chapter (with the three different parts), so if you're reading this, I wouldn't mind if you commented on how I wrote it.

Chris used to think that Dwayne was the ultimate idiot. Now . . . he's not so sure.

With the arrival of Brady, Hunter, and Josh, Chris feels like the world has gone completely insane. With Alex negotiating gym schedules with the girls, and Jacob off working on whatever stuff college students do, Chris is the one voice of reason within Spencer's house. The new trio literally commands chaos, as Chris observes. He's surprised they haven't broken more than five of Spencer's belongings.

Spencer's parents, of course, came in a few times to tell them to quiet down, but they didn't. In the end, the rowdy team is politely excused from Spencer's house. What was a bunch of idiots inside a house becomes a bunch of idiots in a park.

Some kid seems intimidated by the six teenagers strolling around in a park, but who is Chris to care? It isn't like the kid is seriously bothered. 

"It's not that crowded today," Spencer comments. A miserable attempt at a conversation starter.

"How observant of you," Chris replies, and finds a spot at the top of a hill underneath a tree. The noonday sun blasts down at them, so they're eager to find shade.

"What do we do now?" asks Dwayne.

"It's not like we were doing anything at my house, anyways," says Spencer dryly, "Except for breaking my stuff."

Upon saying this, Spencer gave a pointed look at the crazy trio, and they respond by changing the topic.

"Look! Some people are approaching!" Brady points toward a group of guys coming up the hill.

"They're tall," Hunter comments. Why does this team just love to point out the obvious? wonders Chris.

"I wonder what they want," Josh says. Chris can't even tell the difference between Brady, Hunter, and Josh. They all have the same personality. Bubbly and oblivious. And he hasn't even seen them play ball yet. Hopefully they're not that bad.

Spencer stands up to greet them when they arrive, "Hi. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you as well," says the biggest and tallest of the mysterious posse. He has dark brown hair and vaguely empty eyes, as if he's disinterested. He wears a shirt that says "JW" in huge letters. It must be a uniform of some sort. Despite their appearances, Chris finds that they're very respectful.

"I would like to introduce myself. My name is Connor," says Mr. Big and Tall.

"I'm Spencer," replies Spencer, "And who might you all be?"

"Unimportant," dismisses Connor, "More importantly, we would like to let you know that we approve of your recent victory in the Regional Tournament."

"Wait . . . how do you know who we are?" Chris suspiciously narrows his eyes at this 'Connor'.

"With all due respect, you are all wearing your school's uniform, and also I recognize the famous Short Center," Connor says. Dwayne flinches at the name, but doesn't say anything.

"Speaking of the Short Center," another guy says, smirking, "How's it going, little guy?"

Dwayne shakes, and Chris suddenly gets very angry. Chris, and only Chris, is allowed to make fun of Dwayne. No one else. He stands up, glaring down at Connor. Emphasizing on 'down' since Chris is slightly taller than he is, and makes a point by stepping closer. Even though Connor is not the one Chris is mad at, it's still obvious Connor is the one leading them.

"Dwayne is neither little, nor short. And if you or anyone else says that again, you might get a few black eyes from him and me," Chris gives a little shove as he says this, emphasizing 'black eyes'.

"Same from us," Brady glares, too, and nudges Josh and Hunter to as well. Their glares seem a little half-hearted, but at least they tried.

The entire team rallying behind Chris seems to intimidate Connor's little group a bit, and Connor bows, "Apologies for his disrespect. We meant nothing of it."

Although he seems sincere, a maybe a little too respectful, Chris still sneers, "Get lost."

Connor then wheels around and walks away. Before he leaves, however, he turns his head sideways, so Chris can see one eye, and Chris doesn't like what he sees. Those previously empty eyes were not exactly angry, but now, the one that he can see is glaring at him with intensity that not even Chris could manage.

"Be careful who you antagonize," Connor stands still, staring at Chris for an infuriatingly long time, but Chris refuses to make the first move. He won't back down. Connor doesn't back down. They say you don't drown because the water goes into your lungs, but because the water goes into your lungs too fast.

Maybe that's why Connor's eyes scare Chris the most. Because, Chris can feel himself drowning in those eyes that were just empty a second ago.

Chris looks away, closing his eyes.

Maybe it's because of the disappointing look that Connor has. Maybe it's the way he seems to look down at Chris even though Chris is taller. Maybe it's because of those ever-accusing eyes that won't look away.

"Disappointing," Connor says, and Chris waits for him to leave. The team stands in silence as the mysterious "JW"s walk away.

"That was crazy brave of you, man!" Hunter says, after they're out of earshot, "I wouldn't have been able to do that in front of a guy like that!"

"Yeah!" chimed Brady and Josh. But not even them can comfort Chris now. He doesn't even know why he feels this way. He feels so . . . overpowered. He feels helpless, as if . . . as if . . .

As if maybe I'm not the main character to this story anymore.

If Chris were in a story, he had always fancied himself the main character. At least an important character. But maybe . . . maybe he was just a supporting character, following the lead of the hero, Alex. Or worse, he could be the side character facing utter destruction from a powerful team.

When he had seen those empty-to-full eyes, Chris felt powerful forces shaking the world that he knew. As he ponders about this on the way home, Chris sees passersby who seem to be just as lost as he is.

[i]Get lost.[/i] That was what he had told Connor. Did Connor realize that Chris himself was lost?

When he crawls into bed that night, ready to be overtaken by nightmares, Chris smiles at the fact that hopefully, he'll never need to see Connor again. A moment later, however, a shiver is sent down his spine, because he remembers there are two schools that could be represented by a "JW" like the one on Connor's shirt.

One is a preschool, but the other . . .

. . . is Jackson Wills Middle School.

~ ~ ~

Dwayne knows that he's short.

He knows it with all of his heart, because if that passion isn't put into his heart, Dwayne's heart might become as small as he is.

When the tall stranger called him "Short Center", Dwayne felt a resentment well up within him. Not for the stranger, but for himself. Why did he have to be so short? All his life, he did whatever he could to get taller. He drank milk, being told it was healthy for bones. He began playing basketball, as he was told, it was a sport that would help you grow taller. He did everything he could, but no matter what he did, there was one constant in his life-- his height.

He was okay with Chris calling him short. He knows Chris very well. Chris is the kind of person to choose his words very carefully, and he means everything he says. But when the stranger called Dwayne the "Short Center", Dwayne couldn't bear it. The stranger didn't even know him, yet the only thing that the stranger could tell from him was that he was short. Dwayne didn't want to be the "Short Center", he wanted to be the "Center", but of course, everyone adored the underdog. Emphasis on 'under'.

That evening, when Dwayne prepares for bed, he feels his mind constricting, and his heart wanting to release that anger.

Telling his parents he's going for a walk, Dwayne walks out the door.

He doesn't even bother to grab a basketball; he just wants to let go of his anger.

He finds a secluded spot near a secluded, quiet alley, and he cries. He doesn't let the tears fall, though. He wails, he screams, until his throat can't handle it anymore. Why does it even matter?

"Are you okay, kid?" a man taps him on the shoulder.

"Does it look like I'm okay?" Dwayne decides to dignify the man with a response, since he seems to be the only person around with any sympathy at all. The man wears a dark coat and has messy, long hair, but Dwayne can't see his face because it's so dark outside.

"What's wrong?" the man asks gently.

Dwayne pours all his grief into the man. His pain. His wishes. The height that he could have had. He doesn't care if the man cares. He just needs someone he can scream to.

The man smiles sympathetically, "I'm so sorry to hear that. I might have something to help you."

"What is it?"

The man pulls out a small unlabeled container and says, "This chewable tablet will help you get taller, stronger, and better at basketball. You know what, I can give it to you for free on your first try."

"I . . . I don't know," Dwayne says, instantly suspicious.Was this man running some kind of scam or worse?

"Don't worry, come back to this exact spot tomorrow evening. Think about it tonight," he pats Dwayne's shoulder in a warm, fatherly way.

When Dwayne returns, all he can think about is the time when Jacob had told him:

"Alex goes through intense athletic training to be that skilled, but it's not good for his growing body. Of course, he does . . . other things, but that's for him to choose to reveal."

Could Jacob have been referring to this super tablet? Did Alex take this chewable tablet to get that good? Dwayne realizes that Alex does seem too good at basketball.

Maybe this tablet will make him as good as Alex.

~ ~ ~

Alex inhales the autumn air. He inhales the scent of dead leaves crushed underfoot, and the aroma of a foreboding winter.

But as he exhales, nothing goes out except for the wonderful air he inhaled.

If Alex's troubles were so easy just to exhale out, then the world would be perfect. But reality doesn't work that way.

As Alex is taking an evening stroll, he sees a group of children playing basketball in a driveway. They wear ragged clothing and wear poorly maintained shoes. But they play with passion, and Alex knows that passion is the most important part of playing basketball. You can't rule the court with indifference. The King of the Court has to have passion.

He also passes by Dwayne, who also seems to be on an evening stroll, but Dwayne is lost in thought, so he doesn't notice Alex.

It starts to get dark, so Alex begins going back, but not before he's stopped by a smiling man with ruffled dark brown hair.

"Hi there," says the man.

Alex knows what to do when he encounters shifty strangers like this. Step one: ignore.

Alex continues on, looking straight forward. However, the man, walks up directly in front of him.

"Are you okay, kid?" the man asks warmly. Step two: rush away.

"Sorry, man, but I've got to be somewhere," Alex walks around him, but is stopped again, and this time, the man has grabbed his shoulder. It's an iron grip that Alex just can't shake off casually.

"You look a bit stressed," the man says, "Why don't you try a bit of this?"

The man pulls out a small unlabeled container, and Alex immediately knows this is a drug dealer. No doubt. Alex shouldn't have come to such a secluded spot.

Alex relaxes his body, giving the drug dealer a false sense of control, and the drug dealer in response, also relaxes his grip on Alex's shoulder. Then, Alex punches the man in the gut and sprints away. He knows it would be futile to call the police. It was dark and he never got a good look at the guy's face. Besides, he doesn't even have proof that the man is actually a drug dealer. And the guy would probably be gone by tomorrow anyways.

As he escapes, Alex glances back and notices the man is smiling. Not just smiling, but grinning. Alex is frightened, because when a shifty drug dealer in a secluded alley is happy, something horrible must have happened. And Alex's mind fills with dread that there might be someone out there ensnared in this trap.