Chapter 6 : The Fool

Tyson’s reality check was still ringing in my ears. I was starting to look at the last few months through a different lens. What had my "noble" routine actually cost me? I looked at the guys: Tyson and Amy were solid, Jones was hooked on Airin, and even Alvin was making moves with Faye. They were moving forward while I felt like I was standing still.

I wondered where Stephany fit into all of this. She was cool, but I usually saw her drifting between different groups at school. She probably just saw me as another friend. Then there was Jessica. Her ignoring me after the Sean incident had been a total ego-bruiser. If she couldn't see I was trying to help, she clearly didn't give a shit. But if that was true, why did the "date" comment get under my skin so much? I decided to stop spiraling and just get some sleep.

The rest of the week was quiet. I stuck to the gym with the boys on Thursday and Friday. Saturday, I went to the Dojo and put in extra work while the other guys were out on their dates. It felt better to be productive than to sit around a quiet house feeling sorry for myself.

Sunday morning, I headed to the Mall to meet Stephany. She’d set the time for 8 AM. I’m not a mall person, so I got there early just to grab a coffee and figure out the layout so I wouldn't look like an idiot wandering around. At 8:00, she messaged me that she’d arrived.

"Hey, Steph." I tapped her shoulder near the entrance.

"You're here already?" She looked surprised. "I thought you'd be late."

"Been here thirty minutes. Needed to map the terrain. I don't do malls."

"My God, you really are a nerd, aren’t you?" She giggled, eyes crinkling.

"Fuck off! I’d rather be passed out under a tree in the park than lost in this consumer hellhole."

"Aww, are you afraid of getting lost, kiddo? Need to hold my hand?"

"Careful. The price just went up. You owe me two Special Hotdogs now."

"Hahaha! For a guy in shape, you really obsess over food."

"Fuel for the machine," I laughed. "So, what's the mission?"

"My dad's birthday," she explained. "He's suddenly obsessed with tennis. I have zero clue what to buy. I need a guy's opinion on sportswear."

"I don't play tennis, but I know what looks good. Outfit? Shoes?"

"Both, if my savings can stretch that far."

We spent hours browsing. It was... nice. Normal. We found a matching set and shoes that fit her budget perfectly. She was happy, and for a few hours, I forgot about the drama.

"Okay, hotdog time," I announced as we drove to the park.

"Daeron, there were like ten food courts at the mall. Why here?"

"Because this stall is legendary. Trust me. And put your wallet away, it's my treat."

"No way! I invited you."

"You just blew your savings on your dad. Let me be the gentleman. You can owe me. Deal?"

She hesitated, then smiled softly. "Alright. Thank you, Daeron."

We got our food and found a bench. I was mid-bite when I saw her. Jessica. Sitting across the path, drink in hand. She looked up, locked eyes with me, and flashed that smile—the one that used to make my day.

Fuck. My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Daeron?" Stephany’s voice sounded far away. "Why are you spacing out?"

"Uhh, nothing." I forced myself to chew.

Stephany followed my gaze. Her posture stiffened. "Isn’t that Jessica?"

"Uhh, yeah, I guess."

"...Do you like her?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and sharp.

"She is my friend. Or was, since she avoids me."

"No, Daeron." Stephany looked me dead in the eye. "Do you like her?"

"Well, yeah. She’s a good friend to have."

"Daeron. I know you’re not stupid. Answer me."

"..... I’m not sure."

The silence stretched. Stephany looked down, nodding slowly. ".....I see."

She stood up, checking her phone. "Well, I have to go back home now. Thank you for accompanying me today, Daeron."

"Sure, let me drive you—"

"No need." Her voice was cold. "I’ll meet up with my friends first. See ya."

She walked away fast. She didn't look back. I knew I should have chased her, explained, done something. But Jessica was right there.

I sighed and walked over to the redhead. She looked up, swirling her drink.

"Where’s your date?" she asked, her voice light but her eyes sharp.

"What?"

"I saw you with your date," she said, her smile turning into a smirk. "Eating hotdogs from the stall that I showed you."

The realization hit me like a slap. This was our spot. I had brought another girl to the place she introduced me to.

"What does that mean?" I stammered.

"I don’t know. I’m simply asking." She leaned back, looking satisfied. "Or... did you enjoy my company more than hers?"

I felt humiliated. I felt played. Without a word, I turned around, marched to my car, and drove home in silence.

**

My daily routine at school became worse. Stephany clearly avoided me, and Jessica was still hanging out with her friends, ignoring me. When I hung out with the boys, they usually brought their girls along, turning me into the eternal third wheel of the group. Usually, Tyson was the man who cheered me up, but he was already busy preparing and practicing since our high school had confirmed participation in the Regional Championship on March 1st. As for Jones and Alvin? Both of them were still drunk on their new relationships.

As the date approached, the plan was set: we’d all go to support Tyson. Jones and Alvin were obviously bringing their dates. Amy was cheering. That left me as the odd man out, the sad single guy in the bleachers. I swallowed my pride and texted Stephany, asking her to go with me. She declined instantly.

Damn it. My patience snapped. I wasn't going to sit there alone like a loser. If I was going down, I was taking someone with me.

At lunch break, I marched to Jessica’s classroom, ignoring the stares.

"Cheeto!"

She jumped, looking up from her desk in shock. "Daeron?"

I walked right up to her desk. "Listen, Cheeto. You’re accompanying me to the Basketball match."

"What’s wrong with you, Daeron?" she asked, her brow furrowing at my aggression.

"I said, you’re coming with me to the match."

"Alright… but—"

"Good. I’ll pick you up at the scheduled time." I spun on my heel and walked out before she could argue. I needed a win, and I just took one.

Or so I thought.

After school, Jessica leaned against my classroom door, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Cheeto, the match is next Monday," I reminded her.

"Tiger!" She shook her head, laughing. "Did you seriously forget that I’m on the cheerleader squad?"

My brain stalled. "Oh fuck! Shit." I rubbed my face. I had watched her train for months, and I still forgot. "Sorry, I forgot about it. I’ll try to find someone—"

"It’s fine," she cut me off, her voice soft. "I can still accompany you after the match, okay? We can hang out then."

She flashed that playful smile that always disarmed me. "Now let’s find a snack, Tiger! You owe me for being stupid."

"Heh. Let’s go."

**

March 2010. The gym was deafening, packed for the Regional Championship. We were there to scream our lungs out for the team, but mostly for Tyson. Watching him play was something else. He was a beast on the court—not because he was the flashiest, but because he was untouchable. His match-up was trash-talking him constantly, throwing elbows, trying to get in his head. Tyson? He didn't even blink. He just played his game. By the time the buzzer sounded on the Quarterfinals, our school had secured a massive blowout win.

We waited for Tyson outside the locker rooms. When he came out, fresh from a shower and high on victory, his jaw dropped when he saw who was standing next to me. Jessica.

"No way," Tyson grinned.

Despite the surprise, the squad didn't make it weird. They welcomed her back instantly. Jessica didn't just stand there awkwardly, either; she blended right in, laughing with the boys and chatting up Airin and Faye like she’d known them for years.

"So," Alvin leaned in, keeping his voice low so only I could hear. "Are you dating Jessica now, bro?"

"No," I muttered, watching her laugh at one of Jones's stupid jokes. "We just hang out. I asked her to accompany me, and she said yes."

"Why, though? If you aren't dating?"

"Because I hate being the eternal third wheel, dude. Look around. You, Jones, Tyson—everyone's paired up. I’m the only sad, single, fucking virgin in the group. I needed backup."

Alvin nodded slowly. "So... do you intend to date her? Or is she just a prop?"

"...I’m not sure. You know how she is, Al. Every time I try to get close or talk about serious stuff, she dodges. She turns it into a joke."

"Maybe she already has a boyfriend?"

The words hung in the air like smoke.

"...."

I froze. I had been so focused on whether she liked me or not, I hadn't seriously considered that. But I never saw her with other guys at school. Sure, there were rumors, but... what if she had a guy outside of school? Like Sean, but a boyfriend? The thought terrified me.

"Look, you should ask her, bro," Alvin said, nudging my arm. "Stop guessing."

"Not now," I exhaled, shaking my head. "Maybe later... after the competition is over. I don’t want to ruin the vibe if the answer is 'yes.'"

"Yeah, okay. But just promise me you’ll ask her, bro. Stop torturing yourself. At least you’ll know if she’s available or not."

"Sure," I said, watching her smile across the circle. "Thanks, Al."

**
The semifinal match was a war. Our team, usually dominant, struggled to find their rhythm against the opponent's defense. From the stands, I could see Tyson’s shoulders hunched—he was frustrated, nervous, forcing shots he usually made with ease. But a timeout changed everything. The coach got in his face, snapped him back to reality, and Tyson returned to the court with ice in his veins. A buzzer-beater clutch shot secured the win.

The stadium erupted. When we rushed the court, Tyson had a towel over his head, hiding tears. It was the first time in school history we’d reached the Regional Finals. We mobbed him—Alvin, Jones, and me—but the celebration was cut short. The coach barked at everyone to focus. The job wasn't done. Sean’s team was waiting.

We moved the celebration to a nearby café to let the adrenaline wear off.

"Ty!! You’re fucking awesome, man!" Jones was practically vibrating. "You have to teach me that ankle-breaker move! You dropped that guy!"

"Chill, clown," Tyson laughed, leaning back. "If you want to learn, stop playing around during workouts. You’re the only scrawny shit left in the crew. Even Alvin has better definition than you." He grabbed Alvin’s arm, flexing it for the group.

"Shut up! Ronnie is skinny too, and he’s a starter!" Jones protested.

"Ronnie is six-foot-two and talented," Tyson shot back. "You’re just... short, clown."

"Fuck you, Ty! Alvin is shorter! Besides, I bring the looks to this gang, right babe?" Jones turned to Airin, grinning.

Airin sipped her drink, staring blankly at him. "...I really don’t want to hurt your feelings, babe."

The table exploded in laughter. Jones just slumped, defeated.

"So, Jess," Tyson wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "Big question. Next match, are you cheering for us, or your brother?"

Jessica stiffened slightly. "Umm, o-ours, of course," she giggled, but the sound was thin.

"You better cheer for our school, Cheeto," I said, eyeing her. "No treason allowed."

"Y-yeah, of course, Daeron." She looked down at her lap, suddenly distant.

Alvin sensed the drop in temperature. "Anyway, is Sean’s team really that tough, Ty?"

"Yeah," Tyson got serious. "They knocked us out in the quarters last year. They made the Sweet 16. This year? They’re aiming for the Elite 8, easy. Especially since their Ace, Alphonse, is back on the roster."

"Oh!" Airin perked up. "Is that the handsome French guy everyone talks about?"

"Yeah, that's him. He sat out last year because he had some beef with Sean, but I heard they squashed it."

"I thought Sean was the ace?" I asked.

"He is, but they play different roles," Tyson explained, using salt shakers to demonstrate. "Sean is the brain, the playmaker. Alphonse is the gun, the pure scorer. Together, they're a nightmare."

"Jess, Sean is your brother, right?" Airin asked, eyes lighting up. "Maybe you can ask him to hang out with us? And invite Alphonse to join? I want to see if the rumors about his looks are true."

Jessica flinched. "Umm... I-I’m not sure... we’re not that close."

"Huh?" Jones frowned. "You’re not close with your brother? You guys seemed fine at the gate."

"No-no, I mean... he’s always busy with training."

The excuse was weak. I felt a weird vibration coming off her—nervous energy. Specifically, after the name Alphonse was dropped. My stomach tightened. Was she hiding something? A crush on the French guy? Or worse... was Alphonse the "boyfriend" Alvin warned me about?

Fuck. Just the thought of it made me feel physically sick.