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I wished she'd be there to see it.
I wiped away stupid tears that were totallynoton my cheeks before I got out of my car.
I closed the door a little too hard and winced. It wasn't my car's fault Mum was sick. Still, letting off a bit of aggression make me feel better.
"Hey," a female voice called out.
I looked over to see Bec climbing out of her car. What was she doing here?
I put on my macho dude façade and strutted over to her car. "Red hatchback, hmmm? Very you."
She looked at me with worried eyes, like she thought I'd break. "Are you okay? You look…"
Apparently she saw straight through the façade.
"I'm fine," I snapped. "I should get to training." I stomped back to my car and pulled my bag out of the back seat.
"I thought I'd come and watch."
I hadn't realised she'd followed me until she spoke from behind me.
"I mean, if I'm going to interview you someday I should understand football. Right?"
I shrugged. "Whatever. I guess so." I was being a dick, but seeing my mother like that…it was hard to feel like anything mattered anymore. What was the point of football, if it couldn't help her to get better? What was the point of school? What was the point of all that tutoring? It was just a waste of her time.
Fuck. I wasnotgoing to cry.
"Did you get the results of your English test back?" Bec asked. "Did you…not do very well?"
"I did fine," I said curtly. I did better than fine, I got an A-. I went to the hospital to tell my mother that. She was excited for me. As excited as she could get. A faint smile, proud eyes. That was the best she could do these days.
"Um, that's great," Bec said. "Well done." She sounded uncertain.
I lifted my bag onto my shoulder. "Thanks. I should go. I'm going to be late."
"I can walk with you if you like," she offered.
"It's a free country." I gestured indifferently.
"Yeah." She looked like I stabbed her in the heart.
I told myself I had no idea why, but that was a flat-out lie. We enjoyed each other's company. And I was being a douchecanoe. Because I was hurting, I was hurting her. That wasn't fair to her. Just like what was happening to my mother, my family, wasn't fair to me. Life wasn't fair, it was shit.
Bec deserved better than a sulky prick like me, as a friend or anything else.
Besides, she'd go off to uni and forget all about me. She'd leave me like my mother was going to. It wasn't worth getting close to anyone. From now on, I wouldn't.
In silence, we walked toward the school.
"What happened to your best friend?" I asked. "Shouldn't you be hanging out with her?"
"We had a…disagreement," she admitted. "She thinks I should have more fun."
"She's right," I said. "You should go out and live your life. Go to uni. Fall in love, get married, have babies. All that shit. You have a million things to do other than hang around me."
"You still have a final exam to study for," she said. "Didn't you want my help with that?"
I want to stop in the middle of the car park, turn to her and shout that I didn't give a crap anymore. What was the point of all that hard work? What was the point of anything?
