Zenon's Game Chapter 281

"I'm not," he answered, "I'm the last person who can judge you, Candace, I just... I just don't get it, that's all."

That sounded a lot like disappointment to me. But I didn't say it.

The bathroom door opened after the bell rang. The hallway was empty, and everyone had gone to class. Almost everyone.

Axel, Bryce and Jake were still waiting outside.

I felt so stupid to think I could've gotten away with this. I should've stayed away from Zenon this morning. I should've enjoyed my merry, tipsy morning far away from Mr I-wake-up-at-six-to-exercise and I-treat-my-body-like-a-temple Albert.

I still don't get what the big deal was. Why couldn't I take the edge off one, single time?

"Candace and I have English, so we should..." Jake's sentence trailed off as he looked at Zenon for a reaction.

He expected some kind of comment, but no one responded.

Axel and Bryce stood between us, wondering what to do in this tension. We hadn't gone through this before.

"I think," Axel said, not wanting me to blame myself, "He's worried because he's gone through worse before. With me."

We all stared at Axel, surprised he would say that out loud.

And Zenon, who'd been listening to us, finally said, "I don't want things to fall apart, Candace."

~English class~

Mrs Hathaway was talking to the class and then a lot of page shuffling happened. I placed my book on the table for Jake and I to share as usual, but I didn't open it. What's the point? I didn't even hear the page number.

Jake looked at me, reaching over and opening the book to the right page.

He muttered, "I always thought this class was too dull to get through sober."

I gave him a weak smile and stared ahead.

"Candace," Jake cleared his throat, keeping his voice down, "If you want to pretend like you're looking at the teacher, you should look at the teacher."

He rotated my head to the left.

I had been staring at the board, where Mrs Hathaway was standing. But she had moved to her desk now. I hadn't even noticed.

"Are we supposed to be doing something right now?" I asked Jake.

"Good question," he said, pen in hand, "Usually you're the one to tell me. I don't pay attention in this class otherwise."

I looked down, seeing the black cursive he was writing in his notebook, "Then what are you writing?"

"A song."

"Can I ask what inspired you?" I asked.

It was just yesterday that he'd given up. He managed to change circumstance in a day.

"You."

"Really?" I asked, feeling not so great about that. His last song hadn't hit the best tone.

"Was it the lyrics I sent you?" I asked hopefully.

He chuckled, "Maybe I'll play it to you one day."

"Really?" I asked, smiling, "With what guitar?"

"Ouch," he bowed his head, "Savage."

~After school~

I walked down the hallway and my phone vibrated.

The text was from Cynthia. I ignored the disappointing feeling in my stomach as I opened it:

Get to the weights room NOW. It's Zenon.

I walked down the hallway of the sports department and passed framed photos of former basketball teams at Preston Oakes. Grainy photos from the 1970s with some groovy hairstyles and short shorts. I came across last year's photo, with Zenon in the center. I guess he was captain his junior year.

This really was a world I didn't know much about. But I guess it was his world.

I heard a voice: "Yes, we can confirm that he will be playing for the Kentucky Wildcats next year."

I stopped walking. Thankfully, no one else was in the hall to notice me.

The gray door to the coach's office was slightly ajar. I recognized Coach Griffith's voice. He was on the phone to someone, so I stayed quiet, listening in.

"I'm glad you noticed. Yes, Zenon improved his game in the last quarter... exactly. He's more of a team player. We worked on building that this summer... Talented shooters often have that issue..."

I remember Zenon telling me that Coach sent him to be a counselor at Camp Beaver Hill to become less ego driven and more of a team player. Coach thought training kids would have that effect. I like to believe I had a little effect on him too.

My phone vibrated again, and I looked at the screen.

Cynthia: Go the weights room NOW! It's Zenon!

New text from Cynthia: NOW!

What happened? It felt like my heart dropped into my stomach. Did Zenon hurt himself? He was at risk. His knee.

I started to run down the hallway at the fastest speed I could muster.

I didn't know my school had a weights room. I didn't know where the weights room was. And I was panicking, so I found myself running like a headless chicken in circles.

Running in circles until a guy eating a sandwich pointed the way for me to go.

I headed in that direction and my phone rang in my hand. I picked up on the second ring.

"Where are you, Candace?!" Cynthia yelled, "I told you to get over here ASAP, girl!"

"I'm coming," I replied, equally stressed now, "But I don't know where the weights room is! It's like a maze in here-"

"Tell me where you are and I'll come find you," Cynthia said.

Cynthia found me a few minutes later. She rushed over.

"We need to hurry," Cynthia told me, her arm locked tightly around mine, "He's about to be expelled."

"What is he doing?" I asked, terrified, "Is he OK?"

My head hurt. Of all days to come into school tipsy, I chose a bad one.

All this terror had knocked the alcohol right out of my system. I felt so sober right now it hurt.

Maybe that's a hangover? Nah.