"That's a nasty scar there Pete." The shaved head boy that used to call Sylas, stinky, said to him while they both sat on the sidelines of physical education class. They were in high school at this point and the shaved head boy had grown long black hair that stopped at his shoulders. He pointed at the back of Sylas's pale skinny legs. On his calves were red marks, large rectangular indentations wrapped around his legs. It looked as though he was run over by a truck, there just weren't any tire marks.
"I'm still Sylas, Mark." Sylas said. He was 14. Though his words had said one thing, in his mind he felt doubts. He had never gotten the sequel to his favorite game and a third one had already come out. He had several opportunities to do so, but some force stopped him. Every time he would go into his local game store he would stare at the second game, his calves throbbing.
"Where'd you get them?" Mark said, running his fingers through his long black hair.
"I got hit by a car a couple years ago." It was a lie, but he felt cool saying it.
"You're lying."
"Nah. I'm still alive so the car lost." Sylas stared at his right hand. For a moment he could see his 20 year old self's bloody ravished hand. He picked some of the glass out of his hand. Blood spurted out and he closed his eyes due to the pain. When he opened them he was back in his 14 year old body. Some loose skin was peeling away from his hand.
"So what, you almost died?" Mark asked.
Sylas remained silent. He watched the boys in his class play a ball sport. He didn't care. He mostly focused on the girls in his class. He was jealous of how gracefully they moved during volleyball.
"Earth to Pete. Earth to Sylas." Mark said, waving his hands in front of Sylas's face. He then tried drawing a line from Sylas's eyes to wherever they were staring at. "Sylas. Are you a perv?"
Sylas blushed. "Am not."
"So you have a crush on someone right?" Mark said, grinning. "Come on, you can tell me, we're besties now."
After Sylas had punched Mark in the face so long ago, Sylas had to deliver an apology to Mark. Mark promptly accepted the apology after a few hours of deliberation and pressure from the school and their parents. He then ignored Sylas until high school. Sylas was uncomfortable with the idea of Mark ever becoming friends with him. He had a gut feeling he was evil. That one day he would do him wrong. Though he believed that it was wrong to think that, Sylas was also terrible at making decisions. By the time he turned 15, he would have regretted ever deciding to utter his next words.
Sylas's heart pounded. Mark egged him on. "Is it Paris?" She's cute, but she's not that good at receiving the ball in volleyball. Plus she had a funky smell that irritated Sylas. "Is it May?" She's half cute on some days, whenever she decides to wear makeup. Her spikes are extremely hard. So hard they left a burning sensation in Sylas's arms when he tried to receive them once. It's a wonder how she's yet to make varsity.
"Nah, it's none of them."
"What? So who is it?"
"Valentina." She was an angel. When she served the ball, she took flight like a skinny swan. When she walks into the classroom all eyes turn on her. She had red dyed short hair, and she had more defined abs than most of the athletic boys in their class. Her most defining trait was how apologetic she was. She apologized when she served the ball and no one managed to receive it. She apologized when someone else forgot to apologize for bumping into someone else. She would even apologize when someone hit the ball past her and into the sidelines.
Moments after Sylas had confessed, the ball rolled up next to his feet, Valentina ran up. Her big ears hadn't picked up on any of the conversation. She had a mole under her left eye. "Sorry, can I get our ball back please."
Sylas just stared at her face, his mind traveling to parallel timelines and futures with her by his side or vice versa.
"What if we say no?" Mark said. Valentina frowned. Angels don't frown, Sylas thought.
Sylas nearly hit Mark on his shoulders. His calves throbbed, so he stopped. Got up. Grabbed the ball with his chubby fingers and handed it to Valentina. "Sorry about my idiot friend here."
She accepted the ball. Her fingers lingering on his for an extra heartbeat that Sylas's heart skipped. "Thank you." Her soft voice made him blush. She walked back to her other friends, rejecting any assumptions they made about her relationship to Sylas.
He slumped back down, his back against the padded walls of the gymnasium.
"Wow." Mark said. "Valentina is your crush?" There was a marked light in his deep hazel eyes. For a moment Sylas could see them turn green. He had a grin that curved like a mustache. "You know everyone has a crush on her right?" He knew. "I do too."
Sylas remained silent. The padded walls felt uncomfortable against his back. They really weren't that soft, he thought. He wanted to scream out to Mark. "I won't lose to the likes of you." But he looked at Mark with a marked distaste or jealousy. He was skinny, had attractive eyes, he played ball games, had pretty high marks on his grades (after he started getting tutored by Sylas), he was a quick learner; and after the punch incident he started taking Karate lessons and managed to get a black belt. Sylas stagnated. Just kept to himself and kept playing video games that brought him relief from his demonic father.
Sylas always felt he made the worst decisions. He believed he got it from his mother. She was in love with his father. "Why?" She apologized for his father's actions. "He really does love you." She would say while hugging him tightly in his own bed in the dead of night.
"Why?"
Sylas didn't have many crushes. He only averaged about 3 per year. Most of the time at the same time. He never had a girlfriend, didn't even come close to getting with any of them. Not yet anyway. After his confession to Mark about his crush on Valentina, Sylas surprisingly started talking to Valentina more. She started asking for tutor lessons.
She was smart enough on her own, but she just didn't really understand proofs or trigonometry. She apologized every time she got a question wrong. "I must be a burden." She would say.
"Nah, you're fine." Sylas would respond. The real burden in Sylas's opinion was Mark.
"If you're the burden, then I must be the bird." Mark would follow up afterwards with a joke. He was always around whenever Sylas tried to tutor Valentina. What the fuck does that even mean, Sylas thought. It didn't matter what Sylas thought though, Valentina would laugh regardless.
The trio quickly gained a reputation around the school as the trio. Mark, Valentina, and Sylas. It was always, 'and Sylas', something about that rubbed Sylas the wrong way. Of course he would be last, he thought, I'm the loser of the group after all. He would often be the butt of Mark's jokes. His only comeback would be that one punch he landed on him when they were in the 2nd grade. Mark's reply, "Try it on me now." Sylas would quickly back down. In his eyes, Mark's black belt and his father's diamond studded belt sometimes would appear as though they were cut from the same cloth.
Valentina was the only light in the group for Sylas. Especially after the two of them (Mark and Valentina) started adding more people to the study session. While Mark and Valentina sat closer to each other every study session. Sylas had to sit next to May, who constantly patted him on the back or patted his head in reward for helping her. She hit him on the back too hard, he thought, but he never complained to her. His father always told him that he mustn't present himself as weak or cry. He was also forced to sit across from the freckled faced giant super senior who hadn't even learned geometry for some reason. He was really good at basketball though. Plus the two of them towered over Sylas. Despite the physical distance between him and Valentina, they got closer psychologically over text.
He was convinced she was in love with him. That eventually he would have his first real win in life. She sent him cute cat videos, talked about their terrible fathers, whether or not they would have kids in the future, what they would grow up to become. She even told him that she was on her period once. That was way too intimate of knowledge, in his opinion, to be telling to just a guy friend.
"Why do you love him?" Sylas asked as she texted the words, "I think I'm going to confess to Mark tomorrow."
Sylas was to turn 15 tomorrow. Another year of life, another loss, he thought. On top of this he's gonna have to talk to his father and mother. Where he would of course be forced to resist asking his mother the same question he just asked Valentina. Why did his mother love his father? Sylas believed that his father, who had done wrong to him, didn't deserve his angelic mother. Why has he seemingly been rewarded? Year after year, his mother remains with him. "Why?"
"Well, I don't know, he's funny." Valentina replied. And Sylas isn't? "He's really nice." And Sylas isn't? "And he's so handsome, he takes good care of his hair." Sylas scratched his head. His calves throbbed.