The next day was still another day of school. I still remember what I told Dave about finding the people who have been sending me the letters. Well...
I have no idea how I'm going to do that.
I thought maybe this was an investigative story and that the envelope had some story behind it. I stayed up all night just staring at the damn thing, maybe waiting for something to happen, but still, I got nothing out of it.
I slammed my locker in anger. This whole thing was fucked up.
I swung my bag over both shoulders and was walking to class when I felt a rush of wind beside me. "Hey, Cedric". A voice beside me said.
I turned my head sideways to see a guy about my age who had brown hair and dirty blond hair; his voice was laced with an accent I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Do I know you?" I asked with a raised brow.
"Well..." he did his face as if he was in thought before answering, "No. But I know who you are", he says rather proudly.
"As you can see, I'm trying to get ready for class, and I'm busy." I reason out entering the library.
"Can I help?" he asks generously.
"Why would I allow someone I don't know to help me?" I walked through the library with him close to my tail.
"Okay then, I'll introduce myself. Simon Doyle, at your service", he says with a courtesy bow.
I arched a brow, "Good to know." I admitted sarcastically.
"So, can I help you now?" He asks once again.
I drop my bag on the table near the vending machine and move to look for a book. I couldn't let this guy in on what I was doing. "No," I say, sharply annoyed at his behavior.
I turned a corner, and Simon was in front of me, a book in hand. "Looking for this?" He shook the book in his hand, emphasizing it. I look at the book and realize it is the book I was looking for.
How in hell?
"Thanks." I take the book from his hand and return to the table. I take a seat as I begin my homework. Simon takes a seat across me and watches me as I write. There was silence between us, and I was enjoying it before he decided to speak up again.
"I heard what happened to your stepdad." I stopped writing and took a glance at him. He seemed relaxed, almost too comfortable, with his arms crossed on his chest.
I look back at the book before me but didn't write. "Yeah. What about it?"
"What happened?"
At this moment, I was playing with the pen now. I didn't want to raise my head and meet his gaze so he wouldn't realize that I was a bloody liar by just looking at my eyes. "I wouldn't know. I wasn't there".
He leans forward, which catches my attention, and I look at him everywhere but his eyes. His arms were resting on the table now as he tried to catch my gaze. "That's what you keep telling every other person that asks." He stopped talking and suddenly slammed his hand on my book, making a sharp noise that startled me.
At least now he got my attention, I thought as I stared into his eyes. "Now, why don't you tell me what happened, Cedric." He pinned me with a serious look. Seriously, who was this guy?
I have to admit, this guy was quite intimidating. Even with that in mind, I pinned him with my serious gaze, careful not to let my eyes show that I was lying, and replied, "I wasn't there."
He stares at me for a while as if looking for a way to break through my wall of defense. "Okay". He finally agrees, leaning back into his chair with a smirk.
What just happened? I look at him one last time before exhaling and continuing my work. "Something tells me this wasn't what you came here to do," he starts talking again.
"What then did I come here to do?" this time around, I didn't spare him a glance.
"To get answers."
"Yeah, answers to my homework." I looked at him again, getting annoyed with our conversation. "Okay, dude, I think you should stop talking".
"Someone has been sending you strange letters, and you want to know who it is."
I drop my pen, run my hand over my face, and pause when I realize what he said. "What?"
"You heard me."
"Do you read minds or what?"
"If I told you I did, would you believe me?"
I arched a brow, "No."
"Then no, I don't read minds," he smiled at me.
I stood up and packed my books, returning the borrowed ones to the shelf.
"We are leaving?"
"I am leaving," I corrected him while swinging my bag over my shoulders.
I walked over to the door as Simon turned in his seat and looked in my direction. "Bye, Cedric".
******** ******** ********
Coach benched me from training, saying that I wasn't focused, and to be honest, I wasn't.
I have been thinking about the letters, how Greg died, and Simon Doyle. He has been keeping an eye on me from afar, and it was starting to freak me out.
I need to take my mind off this. I stood up and walked over to the coach, who had a clipboard in his hand as he was watching the training intensely.
"Coach, I need to be on the pitch." I stood beside him and voiced out my thoughts.
He glanced at me and raised a brow. "You sure?"
I hesitated for a while, and I replied, "Yeah," in a low tone.
He eyed me one more time before blowing the whistle. He called Dave out of the pitch, "I will keep an eye on you."
Dave came to the sideline panting and gave my back a soft pat. I jogged to my position and heaved a sigh. You can do this, Cedric. I encourage myself internally.
The coach blew the whistle to resume the game.
Everything was going well; my team was winning. Well, until Benjamin decided to be his normal self.
Foolish. Wicked. The list goes on.
He was staying in his position as his teammate ran towards his direction with the ball. Once the teammate got nearer, he tackled the ball as if the opponents had held it.
Just for a second, we all stared coldly at Benjamin. All he had to do was to ask. He approached the second half of the pitch, and flashes of what happened the last time came haunting me.
That was not going to repeat itself, I said to myself.
He came towards me, and I waited patiently for the right moment and then ran forward. Once I was close enough, I launched my two legs into a ferocious sliding tackle with all the speed and force I could muster.
Thankfully, I hit the ball and Benjamin's leg in the process, it was a clean tackle.
I paused after what happened, and I looked up just in time to see Benjamin land on the floor with a thud. Being the only one close to him at the moment, it wasn't only his leg that was damaged. A bone in his forearm shifted and popped out through the skin. He didn't shout in pain; he only glared at me and popped it back in place. It was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen.
Before he could do the same with his leg, the others came, and I can assure you, they didn't know what had happened. I stood up straight and went closer to Ben as they examined him.
He kept yelling that he was fine, but they kept examining him and discovered he had dislocated his ankle and had a cut on his forearm, where his bone had been sticking out.
They carried him up to a standing position and helped him leap to the bench, but I didn't miss the awkward, evil smile Ben gave me for the first time in his life.
"What did you do out there, son?" Coach's voice snapped me out of my trance as I turned to face Coach and Dave. "I thought you said you were ready?"
"I was. I am".
"Then why did you take your anger out on him?" Dave was watching me closely.
"I wasn't even angry," I said a little too loud.
"Until you cool yourself down and settle your problems, you're on the bench," he announces strictly.
"But I..." I started.
"It's final, Cedric," he orders and walks to meet the rest of the crowd. Dave was still looking at me, studying me.
"I don't understand how he got a dislocated ankle. It was a normal sliding tackle that would send someone flying and landing on the grass. Besides, I saw you hit the ball and not his leg". Dave voiced out his thoughts, and then he gasped. "Unless..." he looked at me with a raised brow.
"Despite everything Benjamin has done to me, I wouldn't hurt him on purpose," I reasoned. We were silent as we continued to look in the direction of a crowd and a wounded Benjamin.
Something was off with Ben, and I knew it.