Oops, I Threw Kevin

“Why did you tell me to avoid Mia?” I asked, half-sneering at Kevin. We were standing on the field, having just finished warm-ups.

“Wha- I thought we went over this! You know, the whole ‘You’ll fall helplessly in love’ spiel?” He seemed more confused than angry, but I could tell that there was a hint of frustration in his tone.

“Yeah, but she likes Mosslark! There wasn’t ever really a problem to begin with!”

“She what?” Kevin stared, blank-eyed like a fish flopping on the deck of a boat.

“Receivers! Come with me!” Coach Norman shouted from across the field. “Board drill lines!” I glared at Kevin and jogged off.

For those who don’t know, a board drill is essentially just a way to make players suffer. Sure, it’s important, because you’ll be doing the same stuff in the game, but you get banged up doing it. Receivers, typically being small and quick, get paired with defensive backs like cornerbacks and safeties, while d-line goes against o-line and tailbacks take on linebackers.

Remember how I said receivers are small and quick? I may have been quick, but I was not by any means small. As I lined up, I could see the cornerback I was pitted up against trembling. While I don’t like to be narcissistic, I think the two of us knew where this was going.

“Go!” The defensive coordinator yelled, kicking us off. Obviously, the corner got leverage quickly, since he was so much shorter than me, but in the end it didn’t matter- about two seconds later I pushed him to the ground, almost trampling him by accident.

“Cat-sume, just go with the linebackers,” the coach sighed, knowing full well that no one below five eight would be able to stop me. I obediently wandered over to the tailback and linebacker drills, in which I lined up on the side of the linebackers. While I did go to line up on the wrong side, I figured it wouldn’t matter. Coach would probably end up moving me to the o-line board drills anyway.

But as I got down into a four-point stance, I saw number 27 squaring me up from the other side.

“Seiro, just because Mia likes Ian doesn’t mean you won’t like her. You’ve got to stop.”

“Why? Why should I, Kevin?” A whistle tweeted, and we hit each other violently. Kevin was stronger than I had expected, but I wouldn’t fall that easily.

“Have you remembered a WORD I told you? Oh, God, it’s already too late, isn’t it?” He yelped as I pushed harder into him but didn’t give any ground.

“Why the hell have you made this into some dramatically hopeless situation? You’re only worried because you want her,” I snarled, the both of us at a complete standstill. Our feet churned up waves of black turf pellets as we pushed.

“I do, so what? That doesn’t change anything about this!”

“Oh, you son of a bitch!” I shoved him so hard he fell to the ground. The coach blew a whistle, but that didn’t stop Kevin from hopping on his feet and ripping my helmet off. A punch connected with my left cheek, and everything went a little hazy.

I don’t remember exactly what happened, but I know that I ended up in the coach’s office, sitting in a chair.

“…you know that what you did is completely unacceptable,” Coach Norman berated, despite me not knowing that what I did was completely unacceptable.

“Uh, sorry, Coach…?”

“You have no idea what happened, do you?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I figured as much. What do you remember?”

“Uh… Kevin punched me, I think…? I pushed him down in a board drill.”

“Do you remember actually attacking Guerley?” I did what?

“N-No, not at all! I wouldn’t hurt Kevin!”

“Well, Guerley’s in the trainer’s room right now getting patched up because you- let me stress this- picked him up and threw him like a kickball. Do you remember that?”

“Wha- No! I didn’t even know that was possible!” How would I have even gone about doing that?

“We didn’t either, until you showed us. Luckily, Guerley should be fine minus some turf burn and bruises. You walked into my office after being asked and did a hundred push-ups for it on your own accord, so that’s done with.” Phew. Thanks, subconscious me. “You probably should apologize to Guerley, though. And I also would recommend not yelling at each other about your collective crush.” He smiled and waved me off to the locker room. I got up, trembling with embarrassment, and walked out to my locker. I sat down and covered my burning hot face.

Oh my God. Did I say something that I don’t remember? What was it?

“No, you didn’t say anything after I punched you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Kevin muttered- he was sitting in his locker across from me, head hung in defeat. The room was empty- everyone else had seemingly already gone home.

“I- I’m sorry. I don’t remember throwing you, but…”

“No, no. The fault’s all mine. Not only did I punch you in the face, but I… intentionally misled you. While the story I told you back when we met is true, I didn’t… tell you all of it.

“I told you that the only way to get out of the ‘trap’ was to find someone else? It’s probably true, but I lied when I said I had done it. I’m still, uh, stuck, if that’s the word for it. Stuck in the web that is Mia Karlsson. I was keeping you away from her out of… jealousy? Desire? Oh, I don’t know. But I guess it doesn’t matter for either of us, does it? If she likes Ian…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Not much we can do now, is there? It’s basically over.”

“Mhm.” Kevin lowered his gaze again in thought. I assumed the conversation was over until his head jerked up, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Wait! You said ‘we’! Hold on!” My body froze like water in the vacuum of space, and I could feel my neck pulsing.

“I did? No, I think you’re projecting–”

“No, nonononono! Someone’s been lured into the web, and I’m pretty sure it’s you!”

“No! She’s still annoying! I swear!” I started spewing out Emili-insults like crazy.

“Go on.”

“And she has no attention span!”

“Keep going.”

“And she’s so unhinged it hurts!”

“And here we are, arriving at our destination…”

“And she’s… uh… well, she’s nice to me, and she’s really cute, and her voice is somehow energizing, and I feel like we have this non-verbal connection just by looking at each other, but I’m definitely making that up in my head, and when she looks at me I get all nervous and try not to think too hard about it, and when I dream she’s sometimes there but I try to wave her off because that’s creepy to have someone you know in your dream…”

“Let it all out.”

“…and when I talk to her I hesitate sometimes and mess up my words a little bit but I hope she doesn’t notice, and I get really paranoid because what if she can read my thoughts? And then I get confused because why would she be able to do that, and what would be so concerning about it, but then I remember that she’d see what I think when I talk to her and she’d see that I’m looking at her hair and not the whiteboard in math class, and she’d know that secretly I wish she’d wear her hair in a ponytail all the time because I think it really suits her, but I know that I don’t have any right to decide what she wants to do with her appearance, but…”

“Oh, lord,” Kevin whispered to himself. I continued, unaware of my never-ending speech.

“…when I get home from school, I hope that she’s at my windowsill, knocking, wanting to play Smash Bros. or something, or maybe she just wants to talk, but then I don’t know what I’d say, because imagine how awkward it would get if it was just the two of us having nothing to talk about! And then I’d say something embarrassing and she’d think I’m weird and she wouldn’t want to talk to me, or she would tolerate me but in the back of her mind not want anything to do with me!

“And I feel so guilty for looking at her during classes, because, like, think about if she knew I was just staring at her! What would she do? But besides that, wouldn’t she find it terrifying if she knew that I remembered when she told you her favorite food was Orange Chicken when we were at your place? Or if she knew I liked when she wore coconut-scented deodorant better than anything else? And I’m sure she already thinks I’m strange because of how I tried to be a Braves fan because I wanted to not be a Yankees fan since that would make it more obvious that I was just trying to like the same things she did.

“But I wonder if when I’m looking across the class at her and our eyes meet, is it because she was looking at me specifically or if it was because she was looking for people looking at her? And when I hold that eye contact too long and she turns away first, is she essentially telling me I’m a creep? Because I feel like she is, because why else would she turn away? And what about when she's talking with other guys? It’s definitely because she likes them. Why would she talk to them otherwise? It makes sense, right, Kevin?” I finished, breathing in and out deeply in exhaustion from talking so long.

“…”

“What?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious.”

“What? That she’s flirting with those guys by talking to them? Or that she’s calling me a creep? Because I might be a creep? Do creeps think about what outfit would match her green eyes? Do they wish that she would wear something other than that same hoodie? Do they hypothetically hope that she would theoretically think I’m kind of handsome and maybe want to date me just to see how it goes and then end up in a long-lasting relationship that could potentially end up in marriage and we would have, like, two kids and she would name one something cool like Wesley or Clifton and I would name the other one who happens to be a girl some traditional Japanese name like Mitsu or Yuri? And we’d live in some nice home near Atlanta or Miami or Raleigh and have a pool for the kids to play in but the heater breaks every once in a while so we could call it the ‘polar plunge’ in winter and turn it into a Christmas tradition?

“And after a long work trip I would come home and she would hug me and tell me that she ordered dinner because she can’t cook but that I owe her a good meal the next day, and I’d agree and she’d kiss me on the cheek and then the kids would come and grab onto my legs, and I’d tell them that they’re getting really big? And maybe once we let the kids go to sleep we’d get out some wine and I’d talk about how hard work was but she’d know because she was also working a hard job? And she’d laugh as I sip the wine incorrectly and spill it on my pajama shirt, but then tell me that’s why she loves me? And I’d tell her I love her back and– shit, am I in love with Mia?”

“…yes. I would say that’s an accurate assessment,” Kevin muttered, almost asleep from how long I ranted. “Congrats, you’re stuck deeper than I’ve ever been. How did you even get to this point?” I virtually tuned Kevin out.

“No! I can’t be in love with Mia, because if I was, I’d want to hug her and kiss her and cuddle with her and do everything together with her! And even if I do want to do all of that with her, so what? That doesn’t mean I love her! She’s still annoying sometimes, and when she is, that makes me want to kiss her even more, but my point still stands! It’s also only been, like, three weeks, so there’s no way I’d be in love anyway! So yeah! I’m not in love!” I turned to Kevin, confident in myself. “See?”

He facepalmed, unable to comprehend my stupidity at that moment. “I don’t think there’s a time limit for love.”

“So? She’s still loathsome!”

“If you get more turned on when she’s being weird, that speaks volumes about how infatuated you are.” I waved my hands, face heating rapidly.

“Nonono, not turned on! Well, yes, turned on, but like, not super turned on! Okay, maybe super turned on, but she does that when she’s not being a pest, so it doesn’t count.” Kevin inhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead.

“Seiro. You like Mia.”

“She’s insanely adorable, but just because I think that doesn’t mean I like her.”

“You like Mia.”

“I just think she’s really amazing and super fun to be around and also pretty!”

“You. Like. Mia.” Kevin was saying it almost like it was a command.

“…oh, God, I like Mia.”

“WOW! GUYS, DID YOU HEAR THAT? SEIRO LIKES MIA!” His sarcasm bleed so deep it choked me.

“Oooooh, no… she likes Ian. Which means she doesn’t like me. Or you.”

“We just talked about this. How do you even know that, anyway?”

“Well, I looked at her, and she looked at me, and she looked away really fast and ended the conversation abruptly and ran off, and we were talking about Ian, so…” Kevin stiffened a little, but I barely noticed it. I passed it off as my imagination.

“Yeah. No, that’s just normal Mia behavior. I think she was pranking you. Anyway, we’d better go- it’s late.”

“You’re right. Just, forget all of this happened? And agree to not sabotage each other, I guess?”

“Sure,” Kevin said, smirking. “But when I win, don’t come crying to me.”