I was a walking zombie now.

My legs felt like tooth picks someone used between their teeth one too many times. Worn and dull as they carried me through the school parking lot.

Football practice was almost over, but I couldn't spend another second in the antiseptic smelling wasteland that knew how to suck the life out of anyone even when it was bringing it back into them. I couldn't stand the sounds of oxygen being given and carts of dinner rolling down the halls towards patients any longer. The weight of saddened eyes on my father and I was becoming heavy, so I had to leave. I just had to because I couldn't look at my sister's lifeless body being poked and prodded at to save her life. I had to leave, so I wouldn't suddenly spill over with the ferocity of the situation that death was playing us with.

I had to leave, and the only place that wouldn't make me want to punch a wall was the stadium.

As I closed in on the entrance gate, the booming voice of Coach could be heard, as well as shrill cheering from the cheer team. I found comfort from it, weirdly, the sounds familiar and old. Not new, like the ventilators and heart monitors surrounding my life in a frequent combat.

Filing onto the field, I had my hands shoved into the pockets of my jacket - mother nature's sweet song of ice making itself known more and more this past week, especially from the lowering sun. Although a slight coolness was in the air, I could still feel heat radiating around the field, and so could everyone else. The girls were all in something light and some even had their hair tied back, and the guys were running around in only shoulder pads and no shirt underneath or over.

As I got closer to where most of the pack stood, Coach Matthews finally noticed my ever impending presence. "Nice to see you've finally showed up, Parsley." He deadpanned. That's what I liked about coach. He didn't act like that you breaking off a seven year long relationship with your girlfriend, or your mom and dad getting a divorce or worse, dying, was a trip to be sad and treat you different on. He simply treated you like normal after the initial shock of everything. He gave no one - especially the captain - special treatment for longer than socially acceptable. I admired him for it, but if I wasn't in a situation like the one I was in, I would have thought him rude and cold hearted. Maybe he was, but that was what I needed to not feel so hopeless and lost. Like I was fragile.

"You know," he added in, "I made you captain for a reason, but that reason wasn't for you to skip out on practice whenever you felt like it!" The whole time, he hadn't even spared me a glance, only keeping to the plays.

"I know, coach. Sorry, coach." I, and everybody else, treated coach like a Drill Sargent. It was a show of respect, and a 'please-don't-kill-me' sign.

"Now," he finally looked at me, his eyes just the taddest bit softer than normal, or maybe it was my imagination, "Tomorrow, at the game, I expect you to play your ass off, or you can kiss that title goodbye." I nodded.

"I will."

Coach started clapping, his signature whistle, along with his, "Alright, bring it in!" starting to round the guys up. Sweaty bodies followed orders and were surrounding coach and I.

"Hey, it's Andrew! Dude, you missed it! Rodriguez had a mental breakdown when Ashton clipped him -"

"How's your mom and sis? Are they awake yet?"

"Can you not bail on us, please? When you aren't here, Zach likes to make it a big deal that he's 'sheriff around here, now' and shit like it!"

"Guys, c'mon! Leave Andrew alone! He's clearly had a rough day."

An eardrum bursting whistle broke up the mixed speeches of everybody, and I was silently thanking coach for it. I would have screamed at all of them to shut the fuck up if he hadn't already started getting annoyed first. "Alright, alright, alright! Shut the Hell up and listen. Ya'll did pretty good in practice today and for that, early release." By early, Coach Matthews meant the time practice was supposed to actually end instead of thirty minutes or so after.

"But tomorrow, everybody and Andrew here, right Andrew?" I nodded for the billionth time that day, "are going to bust ass. We are going against the Highland White Sharks, known to be mean and foul players, so everybody needs to do their absolute best!" A chorus of 'Yes, Coach' teetered throughout the group. I studied them all, seeing their heads held high, but eyes full of worry and doubt.

The Highland White Sharks were the roughest football team in the tristate area. They were known to play dirty, sometimes going as far as to break bones, and have rarely lost a game. Last year, I had almost gotten burned by their Captain, Jack Farland, when he charged at me and took out my shoulder. Luckily it only got bruised, but I was out for most of the game because it was my throwing arm. Anyway, they were tough, and all the guys knew that, and most of them didn't want to go against them so early in the season.

"I mean it!" Coach slit his eyes and gauged each and every player's reaction for anything but agreement and acceptance. By then, it was starting to cool down, and the wind was picking up speed. Fall was coming earlier than expected, and if I knew anything about the team, they would want to get along with coach. Like mentioned before, Coach Matthews was a tough cookie, and he wouldn't just make you run laps. He'd make you run naked in the cold if you defied him.

As soon as Coach dismissed everyone, they all ran to the showers. He followed them, heading to his office. I stayed behind, watching, and thinking.

My eyes kept to the horizon, staring at the changing sky, watching the clouds slowly breeze by and the colors fade from blue, to pink. The sight was making me depressed. When Lola was still awake, her and I would sit in the backyard of our house and watch night fall. It was our little routine. We would go out, lay down on the soft, green grass my father always thought needed to be trimmed and kept prestine. We would lay side by side, her sometimes resting her blonde head on my chest, and we would just stay like that. We would laugh at stupid jokes I would try to tell her, because I loved her little giggle, or she would tell me stories about her third grade class.

I loved her, yet she was missing this! She was missing the beauty of the world because some fucking bastard didn't want to call a cab when he was fucking drunk. And while he was held up in a cell with charges and a torn soul, my Lola and my mom were dying. Dying

"God danmit..." I mumbled to myself. I kicked at a small pebble by my sneaker worn foot, anger starting to seize my body. I had come to the football field to clear my mind, get away from the chaos that was my life, but it wasn't working. If anything, these thoughts that were racing in my head were hurting me, were getting worse.

Was this how my life was going to be now? Was this how everyday would be until they woke up?

I truly did not know, and that scared me. I was fucking terrified, but I would never, never say it out loud. Not to anyone. Not ever.

"Andrew." A voice suddenly said my name from a distance away. It broke me from my caging mind, and I was surprised by who it was. Zachary Rogers. I was always surprised to see that boy willingly coming towards me.

He was jogging to where I stood next to the track, his legs adorned in, funnily enough, black joggers and his torso a plain red tee. As he got closer, I could see his hair still soaking from his shower and face slightly more tan from practice. He looked lively and young, while I'm sure, compared to him, I looked like I'd been hit by a brick one too many times in the head. And when he got closer, I could see in his eyes he thought so too, even if he didn't say anything about it.

"What do you want?" It came out more angry than questioning, but I couldn't have cared any less. Zachary Rogers wasn't apart of my life, wasn't really my friend. He did one nice thing for me a week ago, that's it. Cooking breakfast is hardly a friendship bracelet, you get that? He didn't and couldn't become my friend with one simple act of kindness. It didn't work like that. He thought that that was enough, though, as he took a tentative step closer to me with a slight smile shifting his lips.

He was acting like we didn't hate each other.

"I came to see how you were doing. Can't I do that?" I darkened my line of vision onto his soft featured face, my hands balling in the pockets of my jacket tightly.

"No." I didn't want him to. I was fine; but I didn't have the energy to fake a grin to show him otherwise.

Rogers cocked an eyebrow at me, crossing his arms. "C'mon. We're pals, now, ain't we?" he bluntly stated. I rolled my eyes.

"Why thank you for your kind words, oh wise one," Sarcasm was just dripping from my tongue. He chuckled a little, a large hand coming up to push at my shoulder slightly. I wanted to tell him don't touch me; I wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone because all he ever did was annoy me. Just his presence was infuriating, yet he didn't seem to catch wind of my ever growing irritation.

I spun on my heels to get a better look at Rogers, to get a better angle on my glare. It made his smile drop, hands falling to his side. "I came here to be alone, Rogers, so please, get the Hell away from me."

His brown eyes melted like chocolate on a hot plate, and he looked at me like he knew a secret I didn't. "What happened?" He whispered. My face fell, not really understanding what he wanted me to tell him. Did he know something happened just by looking at me? Was I really that easy to read?

"I don't know what you're talking about," my voice was curt, and muscles stiffening with apprehension.

"Andrew -" my eyes widened as he said my name for the first time, or maybe that I can remember "- I know you. Something's up." What the Hell was he talking about? He knows me? How did he know me if we've never hung out a day in our lives? He was just saying that because he thought he knew me, but he knew nothing. Nothing. He thought he was entitled to come over to me and say shit like that. He wasn't! We weren't friends. He shouldn't even have come to where I stood. He knew nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing!

Yet... this feeling of defeat deflated my lungs and had my head hanging. He was right. Something did happen, something was up, and I fucking wanted it to end! I wanted it to be over so everything could go back to sunshine and daisies. I wanted this feeling to go away, so I held it down in hopes it would. Obviously, I wasn't doing too good of a job if Zachary could tell just by looking at me what I was feeling.

I was a mess.

My shoulders slumped like all my pent of emotions were pressing on them. I avoided Zachary's sympathetic stare, and just went back to studying the now lavender - turning a darker purple sky. My voice had left me after his softly spoken proclamation of the ever present circumstances. It was physically impossible to utter out anymore words. Instead, a kaleidoscope of thoughts surrounded my brain.

He's completely right.

He needs to get away from me.

Lola almost died today.

Dad's probably still starving himself because of his worrying.

Zachary needs to get the fuck away from me.

Why isn't mom awake yet?

He is right, though.

He is completely and irrevocably right that there's something wrong.

He's so right, that I'm agreeing with him for once.

Zachary Rogers is weird.

I inhaled a shaky breath as I said the four words that could have killed me if they really wanted to, "Lola almost died today." I didn't know why I told him. I just did, and it felt good. I haven't told a single soul what was happening in my life since everything happened, and it felt good when I finally did. When I finally told Zachary Fucking Rogers of all people. I was just glad that it was off my chest and out in the open for someone else to process.

Zachary said nothing, and even though I couldn't see him, I could feel his eyes boring into the back of head and his unspoken words hovering above us. He kept quiet, only standing beside me while I struggled to keep the tears at bay.

And that's how I stood, for the better part of the sunset, with my spine bent and eyes casted upwards. That's how I stayed, and so did he. He stood there with me, not too close, but close enough to be able to smell his shower gel and feel his body heat. We stood there together, in silence, and I found that I actually didn't mind it.

I didn't mind it.

And that was weird because I usually couldn't stand Zachary. The thought of him comforting me was odd and slightly unsettling, but that was what he was doing. His presence just being there for me was alright.

I couldn't say anything, too choked up, but he still waited beside me, knowing that I wasn't alright and that I needed somebody to be there with me, to just be with me. His presence was enough to calm me down, to calm my mind down of the deathly thoughts that were circling it. It was like he knew that him just standing there, not leaving even though I wanted him to in the beginning, was everything. It was. It was everything in nothing. His action was so simple, yet it did something to me that I never though possible. It made me feel better. Better.

Until fucking Taylor.

"Zach, hey, are you coming? My mom said we better get home. Dinner is ready." Rogers looked to his girlfriend with this look in his eyes, like he wished she hadn't interrupted whatever it was he was doing, and sighed. It was a 'fine' sigh, that made me want to smirk out how whipped he was, but I didn't. The task seemed too trivial and I didn't want her to be around me any longer since I wasn't in the best of moods. Taylor didn't know the meaning of empathy, even though she was nicer than one of Santa's elves. She was stupid, afterall.

"Right. Yeah." Taylor looked between the two of us, her eyes taking a much longer time on my shaggy appearance. Her thin arms leading to her slender fingers were attached to her hips, and she had this underlying edge to the blues of her eyes, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

"See you later, Parsley," he was back to a last name basis, but I was okay with it. It oddly made me feel better than when he said my first name.

Taylor Haynes hooked arms with Rogers and they started walking away. As they were about to exit the field, he turned and gave me one last, long look. It was turbulent with emotions and words he wanted to tell me, but then he was back facing forward and back to leaving. They walked away, but I kept my eyes glued to their backs, watching as Taylor stroked his arm and he whispered something in her ear.

I was left standing alone again. Just like that. The sky was dark now, the only light coming from one lone stadium lamp luminating the field in a striking glow. I was alone again, these new thoughts starting to swarm my head.

Maybe two acts of kindness could sway me.

◇

I'M BACK BABY!

Woot, woot.

*dance party*

I'm back from my break and have decided that yes, I'm going to have a schedule since school is coming up. Gotto hate it right?

I'm starting an update schedule for every Saturday. How's that sound? I'm willing to make a few changes for you guys, however, to please you in anyway.

Also - I say also a lot don't I? - did you like this chapter? I did. I gave you guys an insight into Andrew and Lola's relationship. It's really cute.

Like always LIKE and COMMENT. And don't be afraid to give me feed back on the character development or plot line or whatever. I would love to have some pointers.

See you later!