Chapter five: Like a Moth to a Flame

K A I S O N

I grunted as Karl slammed into me once again, more roughly than ever. We tumbled on the ground, the ball still wedged between my arms. I winced as pain shot up my hand like a bolt of lightning.

"Martinez!" Coach yelled angrily. Loud footsteps vibrated in my ear as our teammates approached us. They got Karl off me and then helped me sit up me up as well. I winced again when one of them pulled my arm.

"Fuck!" I hissed.

Milo frowned, taking in my posture and expression. "You okay, bro?"

"I'll survive," I gritted out, glaring at Karl. He had the nerve to smirk back.

"I told you not to tackle his left side hard," Coach all but shouted as he parted through the team that made a circle around us. "Jennings, get up."

Reluctantly, I stood up. I almost screamed out loud when a sharper pain took over my senses, its epicenter being my arm. I was pretty sure my face had contorted into an ugly grimace.

"What is it?" Coach demanded. I smoothed my expression with effort, consciously fixing my posture to make the upcoming lie more believable.

"I'm fine," I brushed it off.

He glowered at me, exasperated. "Jennings, this is not the time for bravado."

"It doesn't even hurt," I said. Coach looked at Milo. So, I looked at Milo. Then Milo looked at me.

He gave me an apologetic look before pulling at my arm a little more than what can be called 'gentle'.

"Arg-" I ripped my throbbing hand away from him. "What the fuck?!"

"What was that?" Coach demanded.

"Nothing," I denied, turning my gaze to him with a scowl.

He scowled right back. "You're hurt. Go get our ass down to the infirmary."

"Coach, it-"

"Now, Jennings!" He snapped. "I'm tired of you always downplaying your injuries. And you, Martinez! What did I tell you?! Why can't you fucking listen?! I'm sick of your attitude. You better fix it or else you're off the team." Coach turned back to me, "What are you still doing here? I believe I told you to see the Doctor. Get out of here!"

"Yes sir," I grumbled, walking to the bleachers.

* * * * *

"Are you kidding me?!" Coach roared at Dr. Pearson.

Ah, what was going on? Well, after the doctor at the infirmary had told us that I needed to rest because I had torn a tendon, Coach Brown had become livid. He refused to believe that I was unfit to play in the match this week, and possibly longer. And so after spewing multiple threats at the team to tell them to behave while he was away as if they were mindless toddlers, he had dragged me here for a second opinion.

Which, apparently, wasn't very different from the first. I exhaled, trying to process that as I leaned back in my chair.

"Calm down, Mr. Brown," Dr. Pearson addressed him calmly. "And please, take a seat."

"I will not do anything as such!" He raged. "You're telling me that my Quarterback can't play the game this week. How is the team supposed to go on without a key player?"

"I'm sure you have a spare," she said patiently.

He fumed. His ears deepened in color and I imagined smoke coming out of his ears as he continued to rant indignantly. "A substitute! It's a substitute!"

"See, that's not my business." She shrugged. "My job was to diagnose him and I did. I don't know why we're even talking about anything else."

"I'll tell you why. Because the Giants are now missing a Quarterback for this Thursday's game!"

"Look, Mr. Brown, I really can't do anything. Even if we do the surgery, it will take a few months to get him back on the field. The best thing we can do is wait a few weeks to see if it heals by itself. If not, surgery it will be."

"This is a disaster." He paced around impatiently in frustration. "I'm going to kill Martinez!"

"Don't," I quipped helpfully. "He's my substitute."

He did nothing but glare at me. I raised my hands in defense, looking away with a smile before the long term consequences of my situation dawned on me and it went out faster than light.

"Are we sure we can do nothing?" I heard him ask Dr. Pearson again. She sighed tiredly.

"I am," she replied. "Just keep the sling on and come for another check-up in a week."

* * * * *

"It's a rotor cuff tear," I told my mom. "It will be okay, I just won't play for a while."

"Are you sure you're okay, honey?" She asked, her voice dripping worry. I smiled at her concern despite the dulling ache in my shoulder.

"Yes, mom," I said gently. "I am not in pain, they gave me pills for that. I have to wear a sling and use this hand as little as I can for the next few weeks. I have a check-up lined up next Monday to determine my progress."

"Okay," she said uncertainly. "Does this mean you're going to your reunion?" Her voice became hopeful.

"Yeah, that." I inclined back on the couch. What I wanted to do was rub my face with my hand, but since it was immobilized in a sling, I couldn't. "I don't know, ma."

"Why?" She demanded. "Go. It's not like you'll heal miraculously overnight. Let loose, enjoy yourself."

Because I didn't want to go amongst people I knew and act like I was the same. I didn't want to catch up with my high school teammates and I did not want to see anyone I knew. I just didn't.

"Kaison?"

My train of thought broke. "Yeah, I'm still here."

"I said, go to the reunion. You won't heal overnight and you don't have anything else to do."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said petulantly.

"I'm being realistic. And don't you talk to your mother like that. I've taught you better than that, Kaison."

"I know, I'm sorry." I closed my eyes. I shouldn't have snapped at her. "Look, I'll think about it. Okay?"

"That's all I ask for, son."

"Good night, ma."

She sighed resignedly. "Good night."

I cut the call and stared at the ceiling. Now that football was out, I did not know what else to do. My newly hired housekeeper -- whom I planned to fire at the first chance I would get -- had already cooked the dinner and left but I wasn't hungry.

I opened my Instagram to pass some time. The first post in my feed made me stop.

It was a picture of Griffin, Samantha, and Josh at the reunion. In spite of my previous thoughts, I suddenly longed to be there with them. They looked so ecstatic standing there in the picture together. It made me wonder if I could finally feel that unfiltered joy too if I went there.

I shrugged the thoughts off. There wasn't anything at that reunion that would make me happy. Curiously, I tapped the picture to see the tagged accounts. And . . . Livvy was tagged in it. I sat up straight.

She's there. At the reunion.

Olivia is there.

My heart raced as the thought of seeing her physically solidified in my head. How I could be close enough to touch, how I could make my amends and maybe finally fix things with her. My mind made up, I made a call.

I'm coming to you, Livvy.

* * * * *

"Kaison?!" Someone called and I winced. I couldn't believe someone recognized me under my disguise. I ignored them, increasing my pace in the hope to lose them.

"Kaison, wait!" They called again and I groaned, weaving through the crowd carefully. "Kaison!" A hand landed heavily on my arm and I almost screamed the place down as pain shot up my arm and made my entire being throb with its intensity. I turned to give that person a piece of my mind but paused in surprise.

"Chelsea?"

"Finally," she huffed, bending over slightly. She seemed out of breath and her forehead had a thin layer of sweat to which her baby hair stuck.

"I hope this is you overreacting. Because if you have to catch your breath like a dying hyena after running like twenty meters, it's just sad."

"Not all of us can be pro athletes," she snapped, straightening up slowly.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes. "What are you doing here?"

She eyed my luggage. It was one shoulder bag. "Same as you, actually."

"And how do you know what I'm doing here?"

"You're catching a flight to LA," she deadpanned. "I know about the reunion. We're the same batch, Kaison."

"Right." I nodded. Should've guessed that.

"So I'm taking that the Giants are one star quarterback short?" She pointed at my sling.

I tried now to scowl. " . . . yes."

"What happened?"

"A rotator cuff tear," I told her. "Don't tell anyone. No one is supposed to know yet."

"Like I care." She flipped her hair. "I don't gossip."

"Yeah, let's go with that," I said drily. I was suddenly dreading the next six hours.

* * * * *

I was ready to kill someone by the time we landed in LA. That girl had always had a way of annoying the shit out of me. She was my friend and I helped her because she was in distress, but she was fucking annoying. I had found myself wishing multiple times that I had not run into her at the airport.

"Chelsea, can you stop talking?" I rubbed my forehead, cutting her off. I had a growing migraine thanks to her constant chatter.

She pouted. "Fine."

"Thank you." I laid my head back against the headrest. The taxi zoomed past the bustling city. The driver was quiet and the radio was off. Finally some silence. I began to doze off.

"We're here," the driver acclaimed. I groaned, opening my eyes reluctantly. I had just gained that little zen.

"Thanks," I said instead of whining. I climbed out. The driver helpfully got our luggage out. With a nice tip, we sent him away.

We had trouble getting in. Despite ID proofs, they would not let us inside. Something about my name not being on the list.

I sighed tiredly. "Just call Lena."

"Mrs. Holmes is busy," the receptionist said patiently.

"Then, trust me. I was invited."

"You can just come with me as my plus one," Chelsea suggested.

"No," I told her firmly.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Kaison."

"No," I repeated. "Mrs. Wade, please?"

"Boy, you're irritating." She scowled. She flagged down someone and told them to get Lena. Minutes later, she appeared along with some tall, bulky guy.

"Kaison, you made it!" Lena gushed, hugging me enthusiastically. I winced when that jostled my arm. "I'm sorry!" She jumped back sheepishly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I smiled at her.

"Oh, thank goodness!" She sighed.

"I take a six-hour flight and this is the welcome I get?" Chelsea teased.

"Chels!" Lena mauled her next.

"Lena, I missed you." They squeezed each other. It was funny to watch their faces split with the intensity of their grins and subsequently turn red.

The guy with Lena extended a hand, diverting my attention. "I'm Caine, Lena's husband."

"Kaison." I put my left hand forward. He retracted his right and brought out his left, shaking mine awkwardly. "I'm sorry, it's just that I'm not allowed to move my right arm," I apologized.

"It's okay." He waved it off. "Glad to have you here."

"Thanks, I'm happy to be here," I replied courteously.

"Guys, let's go!" Lena exclaimed. "We're having a bonfire at the beach!"

"Yes!" Chelsea jumped.

"Lead the way," I said, removing my sling.

"I don't think you're supposed to do that," Lena chided. "And not that I don't want you here, but don't the Giants have a game at NFL this Thursday?"

"I'm not meeting our batchmates with this." I pointed at the sling. "I'll be fine. I'll wear it properly from tomorrow. I swear. And I hurt my arm so I got benched for a few weeks. I won't be playing for quite a while."

"That sucks." She grimaced. "But are you sure about that?" She mentioned sling again.

"Positive. I'll turn in early, anyways. I'm exhausted. And I have a migraine." I kept in an accusing glare that wanted to come out and devour Chelsea into oblivion. However convenient that might be, I wanted some peace.

"Okay," she agreed, still skeptical.

"Your luggage will be delivered to your rooms," Caine said, handing me a key. I nodded in thanks and pocketed them in my jeans.

"To the beach!" Chelsea giggled, dropping hers into her purse.

Anticipation built in my stomach as we made our way there. I would see Olivia after a long time. How was she? Were her eyes the same blue that I remembered or had they changed? Did she still wear her dark brown hair down or had she found a new way to style it? Did her laugh still sound the same?

I wanted to know.

From the distance, I could see everyone crowded near the bonfire. Some were making s'mores and some were passed out. Others were talking and chattering, passing around a basket. My eyes landed on the brunette who was passing it ahead and my heart started racing on its own accord. I'd recognized that silhouette anywhere.

Livvy.

A hole in my heart seemed to heal at just her sight. My gaze shifted down to her sitting figure and my mind went blank for a second. And then the migraine increased exponentially.

Some guy had his head resting on her shoulder and her head was slightly resting on top of his. I was hoping it was just Griffin but I noticed a moment later that he was sitting to her left with Samantha.

" . . . Would you rather . . . kiss Carter or get back with Kaison?" Daisy seemed to be asking. She met my eye and winked conspiratorially. I blinked, realizing a beat later that they were playing a classic game of Would You Rather and the question was for . . . Liv.

I also noticed that most of them were aware of our presence but they were acting strategically oblivious to it. Griffin was glaring at me over Livvy's head. Sam met my eye and smiled sympathetically.

"Who's Kaison, love?" The guy put his chin on her shoulder.

Love?!

I felt Chelsea bubbling to say something beside me but I shot her a sharp look. She pouted but obliged anyway.

"He's, um, we dated in High School," she replied hesitantly.

"Oh." He frowned. "I didn't know you dated before me."

Excuse him?

"You guys dated?" Lily asked curiously, her gaze shifting between the pair.

"Briefly," Livvy said at the same time as Carter answered, "Seven blissful months."

What the . . .

I didn't know why, but it had never occurred to me that Livvy would date anyone other than me. Seven months is a long time. It also indicated that things were serious. That meant . . . they had hooked up.

I wanted to puke at the thought.

"So, Liv," Lara said, her eyes gleaming with evil in the firelight. A gleam that I didn't like at all. It was borderline predatory. But I couldn't do anything without revealing myself so I stayed put. "What's it gonna be?"

Yes, Livvy. What's it gonna be?

"I . . . " she paused, as if deep in thought. Choose me, I wanted to scream at her. Say Kaison. "I'd rather kiss Carter."

My stomach dropped and my heart pierced. I was pretty sure I winced involuntarily.

Around the circle, I saw Sam facepalm. Carter made a kissy face at Livvy with a goofy grin. A few of them laughed openly in amusement. I noticed belatedly that I was receiving awkward looks, and so was Olivia.

"That hurt, mon amour." I put a hand to my chest dramatically to lighten the atmosphere. It was a reflex programmed in me to ease her. My smirk faltered when I see her flinch almost imperceptibly. I began having second thoughts. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. I shouldn't have said anyth-

"Kaison," she uttered shakily. Her body was stiff. But still, her recognizing me so easily made my heart dance. Hope rekindled in me. Maybe all was not lost?

I worked to keep up the act. "I knew you wouldn't forget me."

I forced myself to smirk for the audience. I assumed they knew about the break-up by their inquisitive, wolf-like gazes. I wondered briefly if they knew how, when, and why.

"Haha." She chuckled tightly. I desperately wanted her to turn around. I really wanted to see her.

"Hey, guys!" Chelsea finally burst out.

At that, Liv whipped around, her eyes wide with the same haunted look of barely concealed hurt and betrayal that stole my sleep for months. A new chasm opened into my heart, piercing it in two upon absorbing that.

She hates me.

Oh, fuck.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A/N:-

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