Chapter Text
Neil Hatford
person
- Sophomore student at Palmetto State University, vice-captain of Roland’s lacrosse team
- Crazy asshole
Late April
The sunset sky was a sight to behold. Purples and pinks were scattered across the darkening blue, bidding the day a last goodbye. The bright orange sun had already dropped behind the campus buildings, leaving only minutes before the last glimpses of daylight would fade.
Unfortunately, there was no way Roland could lift his head to enjoy the view.
Instead, he was leaning heavily on his lacrosse stick to keep himself upright, his left hand pressed against his chest as if that would help him to catch his breath.
The view of the old, trampled grass of the lacrosse field under his feet, Roland decided, would have to do for now.
The heavy breathing coming from his teammates around him, interrupted only by the sounds of dry coughing and low curses, was testament to another grueling practice session.
Or, as Roland liked to call it, two hours of pure and relentless torture.
Across the field, the last couple team members were carrying cones and spare balls to the equipment baskets on the side of the field before joining their loose circle near the team bench. As soon as they reached the others, they dropped to the ground groaning loudly, their sticks lying forgotten next to them.
At the back of the group, Roland could see the two assholes responsible for the lack of feeling in his legs, Kevin Day and Neil Hatford.
On a good day, he could admit they were their best players. On rare occasion, he might even understand why coach Wymack had made them captain and vice-captain – Roland had heard that both were on a full lacrosse scholarship and, watching them play, he could see why.
But did their coach have to feed their already too big egos by handing over Thursday practice?
Practice should be managed by normal people. Not two maniacs ignorant to the fact that others might have a life outside of lacrosse.
“Bar later? When we can breathe again?” Ed asked in between puffs of short breaths, sitting on the grass to Roland’s right and leaning back on his hands.
“Nah, I can’t,” Roland said, wiping off sweat from his forehead and shifting his weight from one foot to the other to get rid of the cramps in his legs.
“You’re ditching us?”
Next to Ed, Brian was trying to sit up but, halfway up, decided to lie back down. “Lame, what’s more important than a night out with us?”
“I’m taking out my boy.” Once the round of halfhearted catcalls had subsided, Roland added, “It’s our anniversary.”
“Anniversary? Didn’t you just get together?” James asked, stopping next to Ed and leaning on his stick while trying to catch his breath.
“Uh, yeah, two months.” Roland shrugged, abashed. “Felix wanted to celebrate and who am I to disagree.”
“Ah, young love,” Nicky, one of the few seniors on their team, said dreamily. “Where are you taking him?”
“McDonalds or something.” Roland grinned. “He’s easy like that.”
That made the guys around him laugh, probably remembering how stressed he had been about cooking the perfect dinner for Felix back in February before their first date.
“Don’t call him that.”
The cold voice cut through the scattered laughter of the team, shutting everyone up immediately.
Surprised, Roland looked over to Neil who was already stepping around the others and walking toward him.
“It was a joke, Neil.” Roland rolled his eyes.
“Why would you think that's funny?” Neil’s voice was sharp, making the loose circle of team members stand up straighter. Even those still lying down quickly sat up, watching Neil take another step forward.
Sighing, Roland looked around to the other guys. He was not in the mood for an argument. In fact, the only thing he wanted was to regain the ability to walk, go home, and get ready for his date with Felix.
“Chill, man, it’s not as if it’s any of your business.”
Roland only had a split second to register the rage sparking in Neil’s eyes before a fist was flying toward his face. Immediately, pain exploded, knocking him out momentarily.
Next thing he knew, he was on the ground looking up at the dark sky, void of any colors. Blinking slowly, he distantly heard shouting as if the sound was muted by the throbbing pain on the side of his face.
What the fuck?