Ryan Hunter

captain you better get a hold of yourself and act like one.”
    Sending him a killer glare over my shoulder, I wrested my hands free and tromped to the bench, getting rid of my jersey that Mitchell had torn in the fight. He’d destroyed a lot for me lately.
    “A to M play with Winter. The rest comes into my team,” I told them in a resolute voice as I walked back. This way I made sure that Mitchell ended up in Winter’s team, but I also lost Frederickson as our goalie.
    We then played soccer. And it was a bloody game, literally. Whenever Tony and I encountered on the field as we went for the ball, somebody had to drag us apart. Alex called the game and training off early, declaring that he’d had enough of watching us bashing our heads in. Fine with me. I’d rather stare at the ceiling all day before I had to look at Mitchell’s puss one more second.
    Back home, I thought about what Alex had said. The duties of a soccer captain. Maybe I should take a break from playing all together. But then I decided I wouldn’t let Mitchell take this last important thing from me, too. He’d already taken enough.
    I went back to training on Thursday but made it a point not to get into Tony’s path any more. I was done with him. Friends—we had been. From the guys I heard that he wasn’t back on good terms with Liza yet, and I wondered if she’d sent him the same text she’d sent me.
    Go to hell.
    Every thought I had of Liza ended with that particular line. Just why did she have to cast me out of her life so irrevocably? A small chance to talk things out…was this really asking too much?
    Two weeks went by in which I’d found a way back to a normal rhythm in my life again, but it was more set on autopilot than anything else. Training wasn’t fun, but it was okay. At least it distracted me for a few hours each week from my aching heart. The fights with Mitchell had stopped completely, but also had all conversation. That stubborn, selfish, goddamn bastard. He did well to stay out of my way, too.
    It was when I noticed him checking his phone for texts or missed calls every ten minutes during training one day that I realized he was probably hurting just as badly as I was. Even if he hadn’t realized it when all we others did, he had loved the girl from the beginning. And with the crap about Cloey, he’d lost something very special.
    I hadn’t seen Tony and Cloey talk to each other even once after that night. In fact, they didn’t even look at each other if there was no pressing need. I got the feeling that Tony really hated her and himself for what he’d done. Why Cloey was so hateful escaped me, though. She’d never made such a clean cut with her former possessions —or with anyone who came after Tony. And there were quite a few of my teammates on her list. Luckily, the guys weren’t in love with her but just enjoyed a meaningless fling, or else there would have been no more talking at all in the team by now.
    Sometimes I wondered if Cloey raced through the guys just to hurt Tony. And sometimes I wondered why Tony didn’t give a damn. Maybe he hadn’t been in love with Cloey after all and just needed that one- nighter to find out.
    Ah, what did I care? He lived his life now, and I lived mine. Just like Liza lived her life without the two of us.
    What a crappy development…
    Walking up next to Tony to get my things, I wondered how much of the friendship that he and I had shared I really was missing. I hadn’t played Call of Duty in ages, and there was still a monster supply of cheese crackers in a drawer in my room.
    With his back to me, Tony pocketed his phone and dragged out a sigh that he certainly thought no one heard. I stuffed my cleats into my backpack and zipped it closed as I said, “We both lost her.”
    Tony spun around, no doubt shocked about the fact that I spoke to him—in a normal voice and not roaring like a mad lion. But his stunned expression quickly turned into a dry look. “Right. And you’re telling me this, why?”
    I shrugged one shoulder. “I just think there’s no point in hating you, when she won’t pick either one of us in the end.”
    Tony just stared at me for a second, and though he said nothing, I was sure that he was chewing my words over. He’d have lots of time for that because I turned on the spot and headed for my car.
    I wasn’t any happier that day, but it felt good to finally let go of my wrath. Hating Tony after half a life of friendship was an exhausting