“By the way, if anything, just message me. I know that Paul and Andy are insensitive assholes. I want you to have a good night and if that doesn’t happen, just tell me.” I smiled as he said it and nodded, even if it was pretty dark and the only light was from the house and the moon. Of course I wanted to kiss him now, slowly, feeling every bit of his lips, but I didn’t do that. I knew that when I’d be depressed that I’d start thinking that he could just fall in love with me through being friends. I hoped for that greatly.
I regretted not asking him more, but all we did was talk briefly of music and Johnny just quietly said that his ex had a better music taste than he could ever aspire to. I had also thought of his acoustic guitar, softly pressed against the wall. I thought of that a lot when I was on the bus, recalling Steven briefly, that he had some questionable bands sometimes, but that had been it really. I nearly fell asleep on the bus, thankfully not missing my stop and stopping at the right moment. But I thought of if I could be his ex someday and how would I be looking back at him, if I would ever think of him and I wondered that on the way home, muttering a quick hello and that I had eaten to my parents.
Lying on the bed made me think why didn’t he ask me to stay over, but then that would’ve probably meant that we would be pushing it. Maybe he was scared that I would kiss him in his sleep? I honestly had no idea. I didn’t text him, because I didn’t actually feel bad, I just had a lot to think about myself, but then I didn’t push it. I just browsed online for a good while and even if I felt horny, I was terrified of touching myself to him, so I didn’t. I played too much Fifa with him, so I didn’t bother to see who else would play Messi or Ronaldo just to spite me. Maybe that was something which I would only allow Johnny to do. I sure did like him and that was visible and I couldn’t deny myself that. Before I headed to bed I just watched some football shows, not really letting my mind focus and wishing I had snuck a beer from the fridge, but I was left still asking myself if I would be okay with a good friend. Maybe I would.
Johnny did end up texting me though. I took a damn while to reply, because I was in bed and I stared at the screen, making sure that I wouldn’t leave him on read. I just thanked him for the day and I dreamt of him, rather desperately and having the kiss replay in my mind when I would wake up in the night for water or any other reason people wake up for, which includes heartbreak, no matter how small the denial was.
After his text, I didn’t manage to sleep well the next night, so I started touching myself, trying to drift as far as possible from imagining him on top of me, it was dark and I had closed the curtains to neglect the sun’s last offer of the last days of summer. I could see him. He was kissing my neck, thrusting, holding me-
I spilled way too early. I put a hand over my mouth, biting my lips and my whole body jerking. I just wish there was something I could do and the overwhelming sadness just went to caress my body, as the thoughts came and stayed until I was asleep and after that I just recalled how boring the day was, focusing on yesterday’s text while playing Fifa and kicking the ball outside the house out of boredom. I also briefly texted Johnny as we discussed some bad matches which were going on the day which we couldn’t care about. It was all friendly.
I wanted to cry, I was on a rollercoaster of emotion and I was having a terrible night.
My dreams were getting to be bizarre with labyrinths and Johnny’s hair was shorter, the curls gone and him barely leaning over me as I would fall into a lake, him never moving a finger to get me out or push me in either. I was doing this all to myself, of course. That would be no lie. I knew that I was my own dark reflection which had to stop.
The days went by and we just texted just like any other friends would. Neither of us were too keen on leaving our rooms and we even bothered to tell the other, probably both smirking. I smoked a bit more and Johnny said that he would usually try to hide it from his parents as I sat on the doorstep of the house, watching the night finally crawl in and I realized that we had been texting each other for a while about nothing. Is this what people did as friends? I didn’t have a phone as a child, but I would have Paul or Andy over for hours and we would entertain ourselves somehow like that. Maybe this was the same thing. Was this feeling friendship? Was I lost?
Eventually the days passed and we agreed to meet up a bit before an actual game we were having, just to stroll around town, doing absolutely nothing. Afterwards I could always invite him over and I would be lying if my lips weren’t begging even for his fingers to brush against them. But I knew that all the desires would hush, because I had managed to hold before with him, so why wouldn’t I now?
Seeing him, makes my heart feel heavy and the whole ride I was preparing myself for the first few steps, but once you see someone you like, all the thoughts evaporate. He grins at me and waves from his bus stop. I approach him, as he manages to check his phone quickly, probably for the time, since it doesn’t take any more than a glance. The bus was on schedule, so it wasn’t exactly late and I appeared on time I said I would.
“Hey, Robbie.” He says as I get to him and he quickly ruffles my hair, since I’m shorter and that causes my cheeks to heat up, but I nudge him with my elbow and he stops. I try really hard not to think of myself touching to him and then thinking of how nice post-coital would be with all the hair ruffling.
“Hey, Johnny.” I nearly parrot it back, as his grin doesn’t fade. We both glance at the football court which already has someone from our team, probably the other Robbie, just browsing his phone and otherwise he would’ve been late, considering how he needs to make a bus connection and his bus isn’t that frequent if I remember correctly. But neither of us exposes interest in asking him to join us, which isn’t very team like, but from what I understand Johnny already got the fact that everyone is fucking homophobe when they find it necessary. Everything is pretty on paper where it says that homophobia is defeated, but it never really is. It doesn’t reach the ugly fingers of the rural areas and it’s inhabitants.
“So, did you go to sleep when we were chatting or did you actually play Fifa until dawn?” Johnny asks me, as we start walking towards whatever could be considered the centre of the city, but there isn’t really such a thing, sure, there’s a few stores but that’s all there ever will be.
“I’ve got pretty damn good curtains. I can never tell when dawn really reaches me.” I smirk back at his question. Johnny joins me.
I’m not entirely sure, if he’s worried or just being polite and I’ve had such a wide range of emotions over the past few days, times when I would try to get over him, times when all I really did was care about kicking the ball or just sitting outside and smoking. I did as much as I could to occupy myself, as if I was a therapist telling myself to pull myself together because technically there was no break up even if it had hurt.
“So did you sleep at least or are you going to make us lose, midfielder which says that our defence is rubbish?” Johnny nudges me with his shoulder now.
“Our defence is rubbish.” I pause. He’s interested. “And I did sleep after all, I went a bit after I told you, really.”
I don’t blush if anything, but something warm is in my chest, but for Johnny’s sake I ignore it as much as I can.
“Okay, maybe our defence is bad. We’ll see.” Johnny shrugs, all eyes on me, still. I try to keep looking away, but then I realize that it’s just the way Johnny is, he stares into your damn soul, making sure that you’ll look back and then some contact is held or whatever.
“It’s pretty damn bad. It’s a known consensus, that’s why we don’t really get anyone interested in us.” I sigh, annoyed at the whole damn team. Johnny cuts me off from any further thoughts.
“You’d like to proceed with the career?” Johnny asks very curiously and casually, a question which I don’t really raise myself to myself even in the deepest of nights when anxiety, depression are peeled off and I can dream of fairies granting wishes and that love is somehow true.
He startles me and my thoughts go blank, of course I had thoughts of it when I was growing up, but I had no hope in it whatsoever. I didn’t believe that we would ever scouted, any of us and that I would be stuck in some job, as I would just join other dads in order to kick the ball around, but I knew that I would never get anywhere serious because that’s what I knew, that’s what I believed in. My parents weren’t interested and frankly, I could just continue whatever they were doing or just sell all the property and live with any small job and that would’ve been sufficient, but football was never something I had wished upon to be granted.
“Dude, no one would ever scout us.”
“You can never be sure. Sometimes word just spreads or something. People get picked up from favelas, man. What’s a shitty small town here?” Johnny shrugs and I’m sure he would’ve spoken about the subject with more eager sparkling eyes if I had been up for it, even if he’s a terribly cocky striker.
“We’re like 18, they should’ve picked us up much earlier.” I guess I sound nearly whining, because I really don’t want to think of my dark future, where I literally would only kick the ball on the weekends with other mediocre dads which wouldn’t care about anything and just drinking beer during football matches and maybe still picking fights with morons online about certain things, as if I were an expert.
“You never really thought of it, right? Or let dreams seep through into your rock hard brain, yeah?” Johnny asks me curiously, probably surprised on how come I don’t really think much of something he could plaster on his walls if he could. He would plaster himself in some Barcelona kit and stare at it, waiting for the right day to come, to replace Neymar, I mean, he’s being modest of course.
“Of course I fucking know, but we’re not like Brazilian or anything. We’re not… that good.” I sigh, sadly, wondering if life had placed us anywhere else and possibly if parents cared maybe we would’ve gotten somewhere, but I highly doubt it, considering how mediocre we happen to be. Well, Johnny’s worse, but then maybe being cocky is a good attribute for a striker to have since they have to get the ball and break someone’s legs in two.
“Speak for yourself, I’m amazing.” Johnny beams. I roll my eyes at him for a long while, that he could have easily slapped me for it, but he remains polite and I know that the topic won’t really be dropped that easily.
“’Course.” I say, giving out a brief laugh. But I pat him on the back. I smile weakly. “Look, if you believe in that, keep thinking that. Maybe you’ll manage, who knows. But you gotta think what you want and you’ll figure it out, it’ll come and you’ll be happy.”
Johnny just grins at me, confident in his shitty skills and his own cocky self.
–
I’ve been awfully tired, but here it is. It’s a completely different mentality when it comes to theirs and mine. My summer is long over and I’m slowly getting used to a new routine, so yeah. I miss summer’s carefree nature, but then the grass is always greener. I just enjoy the story a lot.
grasp the sanity 