"THE CODE"

A/N: We're at chap 21 but this story is not even close to be complete. So many exciting adventures are yet to come. So keep an eye out for these two magnificent characters❤️ Don't forget to vote and to comment! 🥰

BRENDAN's POV

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I HAVE LOST COUNT OF how many times my mind has taken me somewhere else since I've been sitting on this bullcrap monotonous bench. It's almost midday, I know it because I haven't taken off the black shinny watch of my left wrist and my eyes keep continuously making contact with the small object in hopes for time to run faster, although obviously, it doesn't.

Click, another infamous second has passed, so once again I turn my head back to what's partly, yet presently stressing me out - full-mouthed, vain, definitely not funny but sure born with utterly ridiculous physical skills, Travis fucking Walker keeps winning me everytime, even when it's just on the matter of who's the one who kicks the ball first. I nod involuntarily, as I watch his growing pride paint his facial expressions whenever the ball reaches his feet.

Pss, fuck it, I dodge another poorly blissful thought from devouring my conscience, though I know I'll stay petty for a while. Fun fact is, I, Brendan Rhys, for the first time in what it seems like to be ages now, am fucking salty. Which, by the way, doesn't mean I'm jealous or the tiniest similar, that affirmation alone is a lie and hundred percent unfounded.

But know this, it does upsets me he gets to take my place as striker, especially because for one, the rearrangement was set by the coach, who was practically the one person I still believed wouldn't treat me differently, or cross me out like I don't even matter, as if I'm some sort of a broken plate or a bike with flat tires. I'm not disposable. Secondly, don't fuck with me, Walker knows how to score, but I'm much more of a complete player than he his.

Not that it matters now. The football tournament will soon start, even if I was on my highest physical condition, I don't think I'd be fully prepared anyway, for obvious reasons. My mind's somewhere else, myself on a pitch would be equal to a drunk prick singing Hallelujah while playing beer pong, not such a great view right? Just another youngster pretending to be cool while fucking things up: definitely not up for it. At least I won't take the blame if we don't get to the finals. This one's on you, fucker.

I hear the coach mumbling something to Josh, who mouths back in agreement and runs in direction to the locker room. I sigh, becoming grumpy, as well as severely annoyed when Sean walks over to me, a cocksure bold smirk on his torn lips and a pair of vexing eyes.

"Already feeling tired of doing nothing, Rhys?" He presses, cleaning his wet neck with a towel. I gulp out of annoyance, noticing the class is probably over.

"You better not piss me off" I simply respond, grabbing my bag and taking my phone out.

"Oh, not in the mood for small talk? C'mon, where's the fun in that?" I unlock the screen of my phone, trying to pay zero attention to what he's saying, before I take a big step towards the main way out of the pitch.

"Have you noticed you didn't even have to put the kit on this time? Damn, Rhys, I almost feel like trading my place for some time off too, eh?"

The blonde crackhead hints from afar, and I'm almost sure everyone else heard him, taking into account he was speaking loudly, but his chance at forcing some reaction out of me is completely shattered once I ignore him and move forward. You're not getting what you want, Windsor.

"Sean, shut up dude." Jonathan Pierce called from the goalkeeper area, who was finishing off a round of push ups next to Josh. See, at least you're smarter, Pierce.

Keep grinding. Hold on to that shivering feeling that keeps you awake at night. These fuckers want you down. Let them test you, Brendan - I say to myself as I walk in a straight line, ignoring the coach calling out my name.

My mind is occupied and full with thoughts so I don't notice I'm already inside the cafeteria, the words falling out of my mouth like I'm a robot. Shit, I don't even eat cooked beans.

I accept the plate anyway, sitting on a cold spot alone. Back then we used to eat together on a very large table, especially if a win meant time for celebrations. Colber would probably give a sloppy speech, whereas I would be tapped on the shoulder and still pay no attention. But whatever he said, I would listen to it, because Colber always spoke from the heart, almost resembling an elderly person speaking with honesty and wisdom. He was the key to our success as a team, and sure I looked up to him as a role model.

We made a great duo, didn't we Foster?

My phone suddenly vibrates. It's a message from Cheryl, saying she's sorry for not being present the days after she found out Colber died, although was quick to mention the investigators reached her out to confirm my whereabouts the night we were together so she wanted to maintain a low profile. The message ends with a smile, asking me if I want to relax later she'd be up for it.

My fingers trail over the phone's screen. Actually, I think I want to be alone - nodding to myself, I leave the screen blank, no message is sent back. Looking at the full plate beneath my chin, I make a tedious face. Fuck, I'm going to smoke.

Before I reach my bag, I am suddenly awakened by a flying fried potato that scratches the bottom of my nose before touching my plate on high speed. My irked eyes travel to the challenger responsible for throwing the piece of food.

Of course. My instant response is to roll my eyes, undecided if I should postpone or not eye contact but eventually I succumb. She is challenging me with corny looks, at the same time she giggly blows the bubble gum inside her mouth, giving me the impression she's making fun of seeing the depressed me very much out in the open.

We can't afford people finding out we know each other, even if it's all about a common exchange of glances, so my next move is to drop a sly glimpse as the taste of rubber from the cigarette's filter fills my tongue. There she is, casually smirking, such a tease for goofing about my antisocial behaviour when she's also standing in a table alone, looking ten times unwelcoming. Evren, you definitely haven't got room to talk about hospitality.

A small laugh escapes my lips. I'd still like to know who's the most audacious out of us two. A battle I look forward to.

I keep playing with the little object on my lips once I feel my phone vibrate again, only this moment I don't really need to guess the identity.

"Dunno about u, but I'm skipping the afternoon. Plus, I'm in a bad mood. I vote for an anticipation of our belated meeting, cool?
Oh and FYI u r definitely looking miserable"

Keep on joking, little girl... I gaze at the plate in front of me. Fine, it's not like I have a lot to commit to anyway. I decide not to answer the text, since my grating expression says it all. My body passes behind her rapidly and I got the feeling she understood what I wanted to dialogue - it's my house, so you better be careful no one discovers or links the two of us.

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"Can't you just stop smoking?" Her irritating voice fills the room and so does my displeased figure. Maddox is sitting on a chair linked to the vintage desk she had previously seen before, holding a tiny green notepad and a small pen.

"Don't you smoke too?" I ask, removing the fifth cigarette I've smoked today from the ashtray, my throat starts to feel sore.

"Sometimes." She bluntly speaks, not wanting to add any more words. Crossing her arms to her chest, I sense the discomfort growing on these four walls, so I inhale what's left of the burnt substance and mirror the dirty floor beneath me.

I used to smoke less too but usually it's the only thing keeping me sane, not the smoke in itself or the taste of it, it's more likely the feeling of having control over my own actions. The drug enters the lungs because we consent it in the first place. Like a trigger that's activated, a pack of cigarettes holds more power than most of the infinite daily choices we make.

"Go ahead." I announce, adjusting the elbows that now rub on my jeans, my palms are together, I make sure I'm perfectly concentrated and she has my full attention.

"You were saying, "it's not like we asked to be there", what do you mean?" Judging by her face, I'm guessing she already has an idea, although I'm okay with opening the game this time.

"You're familiar with the Code right? I mean, it's not a secret, but its terms are exclusive to the Circle, not everybody knows about it." I mention, getting a nod in response.

Evren uses the pen to play with her unique brown coloured hair strands, while saying "Colber spoke openly about it. He told me about the reunions, how they take place on each friday, why it was inconvenient to be in his house, why he always asked for secret passwords. Everyone had to attend otherwise would be left out out of the group."

Spot on. Even when I joined, there were established principles we had to stick to. One was no surprise- our presence, when asked to.

"Three strikes were the maximum, except if someone violated one of the five rules." She drops, what makes me mirror her in shock.

"He told you about the rules?" The revelation staggered me. If every member had to keep their silence, then why would Colber risk the foundation he had helped building with sweat and tears for someone he barely knew?

What were you fucking thinking... fuck, could you possibly have predicted this?

"He was proud of it. Initially I think he thought about it being unnecessary, but the Circle expanded so maybe he needed guarantees. I remember when people started to notice how weird it was to watch Page and Colber hang out: she had few friends, low grades, pretty much a nobody like myself. Few weeks later they were 7 on the table and everyone else started to notice something was up..."

Maybe that's how it happened. I had to go through a little initiation, something I don't believe Page would be on board for. I bet she played a role in the making of the Code, nevertheless. The envelope was black and a golden circle marked the borders of the opening, it was given to each member after the offer was done. First thing it said was "this is not an invitation.", and five odd numbers were marked on the paper, appearing to form some sort of a list.

Une.
Silence is the key. Hold on to our secrets and yours will be kept saved too.
Deux.
Don't miss out on the news. A great observer is always one step ahead.
Trois.
Opinions matter, every part must come to the reunions. Cockiness corrupts dialogue, be aware that progress comes with unity.
Quatre.
Loyalty. A lone wolf never won against his pack. Remember that a lie only brings more lies.
Cinq.
Persistence. An act has consequences. Once trust is broken, prepare for an accordingly fair judgment.
Those who search too much die by their own curiosity.

"Right, so uh..- this time was different."

"Different how?"

"For one, he never offered his place and he wouldn't give out a speech for no reason." I comment, as my mind takes me back to a flashback.

"Right, so, as I was saying, since Jonathan's place is out of question and you all have parents around this Friday, I volunteer my house to be the one to hold the party, though this one is going to be private, all folks from the circle will get the invitation. It's my house and I'm better off having around people I could put my trust on, as you should too." Colber was the one talking, and I'd never seen him that serious.

"Again with that same old rubbish conversation? Man, I thought we were done with that." I remember Travis wasn't keen on the subject and kept interrupting the conversation so I said something too,

"It's not rubbish Walker, haven't you heard the news?"

"Guys, I'm dead serious. We've been through this. If we're not careful enough, this all might blow up. If we pull this off we're going to be just fine, but I need you to agree with me on this."

..."I wasn't liking any of that, so I wanted to talk to him after the meeting, see if it could be postponed. But Colber stopped me, all of a sudden he was strange, anxious. Last time we talked he pressured me to the there, as well as the others, and he was dead serious. Do you know what his last words were to me?"

I felt my eyes narrow and a tight posture overcame, the lump on my throat deepened, as my face became suddenly hard, as if it was hard to breathe properly.

"He said- The Code. Remember the Code."