chapter 8 - hypothetical converstation

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Talia:

Cassie and I didn't speak for the rest of the weekend.

After she slept over on Friday night, Cas left without a word the next morning. Quinn was curious as to why there was a developed tension between the two of us, so I told her. I would never force Miss Sunshine to pick a side regarding the recent argument, but I felt it was important to let her know what was happening.

We have never been mad at each other like this before, however. There might have been small disagreements in the past, but nothing that resulted in us yelling at each other and storming away.

On Saturday night, I almost texted Cas an apology. As my finger hovered over the send button, I remembered that she was the one who hurt my feelings, and not the other way around. I definitely should not be the one apologizing. Right?

I don't know when the apology will come from Cassie, to be honest. She is a very head-strong woman, so it's possible we might just have to wait for this argument to pass in a week or two. I just wish she would realize the effect her words had on me.

Now, it's Monday morning, and only Quinn and I are sitting under our normal tree for our free period. Neither of us have any idea where Cassie is.

"Are you still going to the game tonight?" asks Quinn skeptically, not wanting to be led into an argument regarding Cas.

I know she's curious about Grayson and I, also, but what is there to tell? We have only really spoken to each other during this past week. It's strange to think that my cut hand brought us closer together. How is it that I've known Grayson for at least ten years, and we have only just begun talking? It's as if the universe sent us on two completely different paths. Or, more realistically, something has been keeping us apart.

I nod my head and turn to look at Quinn with a small smile. "Yeah, I'm going to go with Jess. Are you?" I question.

"No, I have to work tonight," Quinn states, giving me a shrug. "Make sure you cheer for the both of us tonight, though," she concludes, displaying a bright grin to lighten the mood. Her smile always made me feel better during uncertain times.

There's an unclear tension in the air. This morning has not felt the same without Cassie. It's as if we don't know how to continue our conversations. There's always the glue in a friendship of three, and Cas was that glue. The strongest glue there is. Without her around due to our fight, Quinn and I are left behind falling apart at the seams.

My mind circulates back to Grayson and the few moments we have had together. All of the times that we did share, I remember feeling confused afterwards. Confused on how Cassie always comments about how he is not the kind of guy to be nice or thoughtful or caring. And yet, in those brief moments, I have noticed his characteristics mirror the ones he is not supposedly meant to follow. It's as if Cassie and I have met two completely different people, but our experiences involve one single person—Grayson.

I understand Cassie's worry for wanting me to stay away from Grayson's womanizer mindset, but I have never felt pressured by him to do the things he supposedly wants to do with me. From instinct alone, I have always felt safe around him.

Honestly, I'm confused on how to really feel.

I ponder an idea for a moment. Glancing at Quinn, I find her picking apart blades of grass and stacking them in a neat pile on her leg. My head tilts involuntarily.

"Hey, Quinn?" I ask uncertainly.

Her head lifts up and her eyes meet mine. "Mhm?"

"Can I ask for your opinion on something?"

She hesitates and softly bites the inside of her cheek. I watch her draw a line across her leg, which pushes the grass back to the ground where it began. "You mean my hypothetical opinion on something?" She states, looking at me warily through her eyelashes.

I narrow my eyes at her and understand what she's hinting at. Quinn is allowing me to talk about the fight, without actually talking about it. Hence the word hypothetical. Interesting.

"Yes, your hypothetical opinion," I continue, nodding my head once. "Let's say, hypothetically, there was this guy who had a reputation for being mean and a—uh...player," I say carefully, not wanting to use the word womanizer.

Quinn looks at me thoughtfully and nods.

"And there was a friend—"

"A hypothetical friend," Quinn interrupts with a smile and a wink, as if we were playing a game.

"Yeah, a hypothetical friend, and they warned me—I mean the second hypothetical person about the guys bad reputation. But, when the second person has been around this hypothetical guy, they have never noticed his supposed meanness and playboy style. This second hypothetical person also feels in their gut that there might be something more going on with the guy than he is letting on."

I pause for a moment and find Quinn intently listening to my totally hypothetical situation.

"Would you listen to the warning of the hypothetical friend, or would you have the second person follow their instincts about the hypothetical guy?" I finally question.

Quinn stares at the ground and rests her head on top of her hand. She hums to herself and I grow worried, thinking that she is also having a difficult time with my question.

"I honestly think," Quinn decides, "that the second hypothetical person should listen to their heart's instinct. No one knows the second person's experience with the hypothetical guy better than them. The hypothetical friend shouldn't use their own, possibly difference experience, to stop the second person from being happy."

She looks up at me and smiles. "I hope that helps your hypothetical friend," Quinn beams.

"It did, thank you."

***

What kind of clothes do people wear to a high school basketball game? This is a genuine question, because I have never been to one. Pathetic? Yes. Definitely, yes.

"Are you almost ready to go, Lia?" asks Jess, popping her head in through my door. When she notices my current state, her eyebrows scrunch together. "Why the hell aren't you dressed yet?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to wear," I state with a frown.

Jess looks me up and down with the corner of her lip slanted downwards. She hums to herself in concentration, as if she were designing an outfit for me to wear through her imagination. My sister finally makes eyes contact with me once again and gives me a smile.

"Come on, my child," she expresses dramatically, opening both of her hands out for me to grab. I latch onto her and she pulls me to her bedroom closet.

After rummaging through her endless amount of clothes, Jess finally pulls out a dark red sundress.

I take it from her hands and raise an eyebrow. "Are you sure this is fine for a basketball game? It seems a little formal," I question, giving the dress another look-over.

"Every girl at these games dresses like this," she firmly states. "They all want to catch the eyes of some basketball player, so you will just blend in with the crowd. Look at me, I'm wearing a skirt and crop top. We will practically be matching."

I nod my head slowly and skeptically examine her attire to compare it with the dress.

"Besides, it's our school color," she adds, giving me a light shrug.

I walk out of her room without another word and get changed. Looking in my floor-length mirror, I survey the outfit Jess chose. I have to say, this dress does fit well and the dark red looks good next to my light colored hair. I smile with content and head down to the front door where Jess is already waiting.

Jess glances at me again and nods. "Wow, I should become a stylist."

"Definitely," I say, rolling my eyes playfully.

She laughs at this and we both leave to go to the high school.

The ride is mainly silent, which only leaves me alone to my thoughts. And my thoughts circulate back to Grayson.

Grayson made it clear from the party on Friday that he wanted me to be at this game. Although his intentions for personally confirming my attendance are slightly foggy, I still can't help but fear there being some truth in Cassie's warning.

I really hope she's wrong, though, I think to myself.

If she were correct, however, Cassie would take this experience as an excuse to coddle me for the rest of my life. If she were wrong, would she try to convince me Grayson is still leading his way into my pants? Or would she accept the error she made? I guess I will have to wait and see.

In my own personal belief, I expect Grayson to disprove my best friends theory. But, I have already been surprised once by someone's harmful behavior, so why not make it twice for a good laugh?

"Hey," Jess interrupts from my thoughts. I look out of the window and notice we have parked in the school lot, which is already tightly packed with other cars. "I just wanted to let you know that Quinn is going to pick me up from the game after she gets out of work so we can go out together."

I nod my head to confirm I heard her as Jess drops the car keys in my hands. "Ey-eye, captain," I salute.

"You're so weird," she states, rolling her eyes and lightly shoving me in my seat. "Let's go inside now before all the good seats are taken."

We step out of our vehicle and walk inside the gym lobby of the school. Wow, this place is crowded. On all sides of my body, I am within one foot of another person. It's as if the whole town made a showing to the game. Well, of course, minus Cassie and Quinn, one of which doesn't feel like talking to me.

Jess and I proceed forward in a line to where the tickets are being sold. We show our student IDs and follow the crowd into the gymnasium, where seats are being filled up quickly.

I take Jess by the wrist and lead her to a bleacher six rows up from the basketball court. "Is this good?" I ask, hoping she will say yes.

"Quite perfect, my dear sister," she replies.

I laugh and sit down in our determined seats. "Now who's being the weird one?"

"Shut up, child."

I roll my eyes and we both wait for the game to begin.

My eyes search and scan the bleachers for faces I might recognize. I notice that just as Jess told me, all of the high school girls are dressed in fancier clothing that you would not expect to see at a basketball game. Penny Kingsley, the captain of the girls soccer team, is dressed in a short body-con dress, that hugs tight to her body.

I look down at my red dress and am relieved at the help Jess provided before we left. Now I definitely don't stand out.

When I glance back up, my eyes lock with a familiar blonde-headed girl—Cassie. I frown. Why didn't she tell me she was coming to the game? I question silently.

Our eyes meet from across the gym, and Cas gives me a short nod, letting me know she saw me.

When I turn away, I notice Jess glaring in  Cassie's direction. After my sister woke up hungover Saturday morning, she asked me about Cassie's sudden and early departure. I informed her of the argument, and Jess grew mad and called my best friend a bitch. I'm not saying it was deserved, but it honestly felt good that Jess understood how I felt after Cas verbalized those names at me. 

I bump Jess's elbow and redirect her attention onto the basketball court, where an announcer has set up his microphone.

"Gooooood evening, basketball spectators!" the announcer shouts into the microphone. "We are gathered today to draw an end to an exciting basketball season, with the Virginia state championship between the Mighty Trojans and the Fighting Owls."

Cheers erupt from the gym and people begin stomping their feet on the bleachers, imitating the sound of thunder.

"Now for our starting lineup! From the Trojans..." The announcer proceeds to scream names from the opposing team, which results in cheers from spectators cladded in green clothing.

"And finally from the Owls we have Rowan Killian, Tyler Winston, Jake Edwards, Zachary Fitzgerald, and Grayson Summers!"

Just when I thought the crowd could not get any louder, the section surrounding me screams and vigorously claps their hands. Involuntarily, I find myself doing the same. I think sport events have a certain contagious energy to them.

My eyes are suddenly drawn to Grayson. I'm not the kind of girl to swoon at a guy, but in this moment, I seriously thought about doing it.

With the help from his sleeveless jersey and shorts, any person could see that Grayson worked out until perfection was reached. His toned arms have smoothly defined muscles that I swear could crush anyone's skull. Grayson's long legs match the perfection of him arms, and allow him to swiftly travel across the court with zero effort. It's no wonder that many college recruiters are found rapidly jotting notes on a clipboard in the front row. Everyone either wants him or wants to be him.

Grayson's eyes search the gigantic crowd. When his eyes reach mine they stop and he gives a small, shy smile and wave. That movement reminds me of how he used to act before last week—nervous and all around adorable. Nervous about what? I always ask myself.

I return his expression with a smile and am about to wave back before Jake rushes over and pushes him to a team huddle.

Jess nudges my arm and raises her eyebrow at me.

"What?" I ask, mirroring her facial movement.

She laughs silently. "Oh, nothing."

I roll my eyes dramatically and face the court again, which is now being set up for the tip-off. Yeah, I may have researched basketball before arriving, so I know all of the fancy lingo. Mostly.

Rowan and one of the other team's players bend their knees slightly on either side of the referee in preparation for the toss.

Then, the ball is in play.

***

"Five...four...three...two..."

Beeeeeep

The gym erupts in cheers and our schools team screams in victory.

Jess grips me by the shoulders and shakes me while shouting loudly in my face. I begin to laugh at her form of happiness.

The Fighting Owls, also known as our team, won the state championship 65-57, in a game that felt infinitely exciting.

On the court, I notice Grayson already being approached by college recruiters, and for the first time, his face is lit up by the most beautiful, genuine smile. He definitely deserved this win.

Watching him play on the court was mesmerizing. His feet moved quickly to dodge opposing players and he made countless carefully planned shots into the basket. I wish I would have come to more school basketball games in the past before the season was over.

Soon, the crowd begins to die down and waves of people exit the gymnasium and leave.

Jess and I follow the crowd into the lobby, where both of us are still buzzing with energy the past two hours provided.

"Hey, Quinn texted me and told me she is here," Jess states. "Are you going to be okay driving home?"

I nod my head and give her a smile. "Yeah, I'm just going to go use the bathroom first," I share.

We hug goodbye—as normal siblings do—and head our separate ways.

Walking into the hallway where the restrooms are located, I find the surrounding space strangely empty. In fact, there is not one single person near me.

At least, that's what I think before I'm slammed against the wall and an arm forcefully pushes onto my chest, trapping me.

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Uh oh...Lia's in some real trouble. This is the longest chapter I have written so far, which is super exciting :). Shit is about to go down, so stay tuned

Qotd: what is your favorite season?


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