The Boy Next Door

ｔｈｉｒｔｅｅｎ

Colton

Rachel shut her locker, ready to walk away and carry on with her day. "Hey, wait a second," I said.

"Huh?" She said.

I wrapped her in a hug, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair. She let out a big sigh of relaxation. "I'll see you after practice." I said, giving her a kiss on the forehead. I knew that she isn't the biggest fan of affection in public, but I couldn't help myself.

She smiled gently. She acknowledged and continued walking to her last class of the day.

Chris and Dylan were standing by my locker. "Okay, let me get this straight. Are you guys together or not? One day you say you are a couple; the next day you say you aren't. I don't know if you are a couple or if you are just friends with benefits or what you are. Damn, I'm so confused." Chris said. He leaned against my locker, bumping his shoulder on the lock.

"Dude, are you kidding, they have been together for a long time. Almost 2 or 3 months now. How could you not realize that?" Dylan told him, hitting his arm. "They are with each other like every day."

"I don't know! Y'all are always telling me stuff. I hear different stuff around. I don't know. How am I supposed to remember everything? There is so much I have to remember. Football plays, locker combinations, where I put my keys. It's a never-ending list." He continuously banged his head on the locker in frustration. "Oh, do we have practice tonight?" he asked.

"Yes. We have practice every day, except for Saturday and Sunday. It has always been like that." Dylan said. We gave each other the same look, wondering how we put up with this guy.

"When is the game?" he asked.

"The game is on Friday. If we win this game, we go to state." I said. "I actually get to class on time unlike you two, so I'll see you guys later."

"Alright! Wait! What class am I going to now?" he asked.

"Oh my god, Chris! Pay attention more! You are fucking pissing me off! Go to period eight." Dylan said, frustrated. "I love you man, but something isn't screwed on right in there, buddy."

"Oh yeah. I like this class. I sit behind Corissa. She's super hot. Thanks." Chris said. He started to jog to his class. I'm thinking he's had one too many concussions in his life.

"He went the wrong way," I said. " How much you want to bet that he is going to come back here and ask where his class is?"

"Ten bucks." Dylan said, grinning.

"If I'm right and he comes back, you better pay up."

"Deal." Dylan said, shaking my hand.

Just as I thought, Chris came running back to us. "Where is my class?" he asked.

"Second wing. Third door on the left." I told him.

"Thanks." He said, running back the way he came.

"Wrong way." I said, calling after him. He mumbled "god damn it" before turning around.

"Hand it over, Dylan." I said, holding my hand out. Dylan pulled his wallet out of his pocket. He said something under his breath that I couldn't understand, while slamming the money into my hand.

"I hate you sometimes, bro. That was such a stupid bet." Dylan said. "Now I am totally out of cash."

You can't fix stupid is what we determined.

---

Football practice was very tiring. Even though I had just taken a cold shower, I still felt hot and very sweaty. The coaches worked us extra hard to get us ready for the big game on Friday. My muscles ached as the lactic acid settled in. All I wanted to do was get home and take a nap.