I know how you see me, you know. I know how blessed you probably think I am. Heh. Believe it or not, my height actually only came to me in the summer before high school. Ask your friend Naomi about it. She was surprised as hell during freshman year. My point is though, I wasn’t always like this. Middle school was tough for me, and I know how it feels to be looked down on by people like me. I know the thoughts you’re thinking when you look at me; that I’m just a spiteful meathead or something. Yeah yeah, I know. I’m just a goddamned moron with nothing but muscles and sports going for me.

  Phew. It’s cool if I smoke in here, right? You can open the window or something when we leave so Zoey doesn’t split you in two.

  “…”

  Not feeling too talkative today? That’s cool, man. I can talk by myself all day. You don’t need to say a word. But, mm, yeah. It’s Zoey. It’s Zoey for sure. She’s kinda like the court that brought us face to face, huh Tristan? We should talk about that. We should talk about Zoey. Hmm, yeah. But before that, let me just say a few things so that we’re on the same page.

  First, I wanna say I know that I have anger management issues. Yeah, I do. Surprised? You think I’m that much of a blissful retard, huh? Nah, man. I know. If me hitting Gwen wasn’t a wake-up call then I don’t think I could go on respecting myself as a man. The problem is, I didn’t end up treating it as a lesson ‘cuz I also hit that ref the other day, and then I hit you like a week later. And I feel bad about all of it. Yeah, I even regret hitting you. Gwen and I had a talk about it the other day. I get why you broke the perfume.

  I don’t forgive you for it. It wasn’t your place to do that. But… I get it. Your thinking wasn’t wrong about the whole thing. That said, you kinda signed off on Gwen breaking up with me because of that. The last bits of our love splattered all over the floor of that food court when you did that shit. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wanna smash your face in again thinking about it.

  But… she’s happier for it, I guess. She said she didn’t want to be a replacement for Zoey, and I get that. If Zoey dated me saying she wanted me to be you, then I’d… I dunno. To be honest, I don’t even know what I wanted from Zoey. I can’t tell if I was ever in love with her or if I was in love with the idea of controlling her. I love self-righteous girls like Zoey and Gwen. You get it, right? The feeling of watching a proud, rude bitch like that put their heads between your legs is an unmatched high for guys, right?

  But that leads to the second thing that I want to say: Yes, I regret hurting Gwen. I only realized it after I heard that she’d transferred to the city. I spent all day yesterday in disbelief over it. Funny shit, isn’t it? It’s only now that she’s gone that I’ve started to realize just how precious she was. Girls that you feel that comfortable with don’t just come out of nowhere. And I took that for granted and hurt her deeply because of my greed. Yeah, I wanted more. I wanted to taste Zoey Brahm. I was walking headfirst into the same trap as Lawrence did with Krista. I really wanted that girl, so I probably had a mindset that would’ve made me betray the girl I promised myself to. That’s why I decided to end the relationship. Gwen was right. I did want that bitch. I hit Gwen that day because she was right and I refused admit that I was as ugly as Lawrence is.

  Why am I opening up like this, you’re probably wondering. Well, that’s because I hate the idea of the asshole meathead version of Benjamin Otto that exists in your mind right now, so I want to set the record straight before I talk about what I really wanted to say. Yeah, surprised? Hard to villainize me when I admit my mistakes, huh? Well, I know what you’re thinking now. Being aware of my flaws means nothing if I don’t work to rectify them. In fact, it’s arguably worse. I’ll grant you that, but before I explain myself let’s get to what I wanted to talk to you about today.

  Zoey Brahm.

  I’ve heard some people say you guys are dating now. Congratulations, man. Real proud of you. No, I’m serious. I am genuinely proud that you managed to pull that bitch into your orbit. Hopefully it doesn’t end like it did with me. You know, with her cracking an egg in your face and laughing off into the distance. But you know, if it doesn’t, then good for you. If you get to taste her lips or her melons or the sweet apple between her thighs then that’s all good. Even if she fucks with your head beyond repair then that’s all good, because you still got the taste that I couldn’t taste.

  But still, a guy can’t help but wonder. How much of what happened between me and her was your doing? I mean, she says she’ll date me then she changes her mind the next day? It’s not like she didn’t know me before she started dating me and then suddenly realized ‘oh I actually don’t like this guy’ or something. She knew me. We’d been talking for weeks, months before she started ignoring my messages.

  So tell me

  When did your influence start?

  Was it the day after we started dating?

  Was it you who got her to say yes as some sort of sick play?

  Or did you tell her to ghost me way before that? I’ve been thinking a lot about it, man.

  I’m just really curious.

  The reason I told you about my anger management issues is because I wanted you to know that I have everything under control.

  I’m not going to hit you. I swear it. You don’t think I’m going to hit you, right?

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  You don’t think I asked you to come to a secluded place so that I could beat your face into utter disrepair without any prying eyes to stop it, right?

  It’s not like I don’t fear getting expelled, you know.

  My dreams of college ball are over.

  The only girl that I’d ever loved is hours by car away.

  You don’t think I have nothing to lose right now, right man?

  Don’t be ridiculous.

  Just tell me.

  “…”

  Still nothing? Jesus Christ.

  Okay, fine. Let’s ask about something else.

  Why did Gwen leave?

  Oh, wasn’t expecting that one, were you?

  I know you’re responsible somehow. She starts hanging out with you and your loser crew and suddenly she has to move without telling anyone. What, you think I’m a fucking moron or something? What did you do to her? It can’t be me. We’d been broken up for months before, this isn’t anything new to her. I didn’t even tell the teachers that I keyed her car. If anything, I’ve been kind to her. Kind? No, I’ve been cruel, haven’t I? Or kind?

  Cruel?

  Kind?

  Cruel?

  Kind? Kind? Cruel?

  Kind?

  Cruel?

  Hey Tristan, what do you think?

  Do you think I’ve been cruel to Gwen?

  No, nevermind that. Just tell me what you did.

  “...”

  Still nothing?

  HAH! Fuck me. What a waste of time.

  See that? I just slammed your fucking coffee table. Zoey’s gonna be pissed if I end up breaking it, won’t she? So why don’t you just tell me? No, I’m not gonna hurt you. I know about my goddamn anger management problems. That’s why I’m just gonna hit the coffee table. Hitting you wouldn’t even be any fun anyway. The table would give me more of a fight. When I hit you at the mall I felt like I could kill you just as easily as I breathe. I don’t want to hit someone like that.

  But still, it doesn’t change the fact that you won’t tell me anything. Hmm. Oh, why don’t I call your friends in here? Naomi, Lance, Jazmine. Maybe if I SHOW YOU how serious I am about getting what I want, you’ll LET ME know what I want to know. Ooo, tables shaking now Tristan. You’d better talk quick. I’m losing my patience.

  “…”

  Speaking of patience, I thought it was strange that Zoey took that bet with me on the homecoming game, but I was strangely off my game. I think that’s what messes with my head the most about her. You can ask anyone on the team about me. When it comes to basketball, I don’t get nervous. My judgment isn’t clouded. I’m a goddamned machine. So when I started playing off my game, I started to wonder just how much I liked this girl. You know, maybe that’s why I got that perfume for Gwen. I wanted to understand it. I wanted to understand how my desire for a girl could cause me to lose my sense of self in the one thing I love more than anything else.

  I’m not gonna lie to you, Tristan. If I had to choose between giving up on women or basketball, I’d choose women. There’s nothing I love more than putting the ball through that hoop. The feeling of snatching important rebounds, the rush of getting past an impossible block. The thrill of snatching a shot midair and slamming it through the rim. Sex is just seasoning to the dish of life’s main ingredient, a good fucking game of basketball.

  So when I lost myself in that game thinking of Zoey instead of basketball, it made me second guess myself. I’ve been thinking about her all week. I got back together with Gwen because I lost the bet, but my mind’s been all Zoey since then.

  Of course it’s Zoey.

  It’s all Zoey.

  It’s always been Zoey.

  Since freshman year it’s been about Zoey.

  Since I made varsity it’s been about Zoey.

  Since our first conversation it’s been about Zoey.

  The conversation we’re having right now is about Zoey.

  If you think about it, everything is about Zoey.

  It’s Zoey.

  Zoey, right?

  Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey Zoey.

  Zoey FUCKING Brahm. Ah shit, I scared you that time, huh? My bad man. I’m not angry, I promise. I’m in control. So anyway, listen. Whoever it is you think I am, whoever I was that week after the homecoming game, that wasn’t me. I’m a man who lives basketball. This dangerous obsession with some girl like that, it isn’t me. I know I know, I still did everything that I did. But it wasn’t me.

  Man, I hope I sound sincere right now. Maybe you think I sound too upbeat or excited to regret it. But I really am regretful for how I treated Gwen, and for attacking you too. I’ve had a lot of time to think it over during the suspension, and that’s just how I feel.

  But…

  “…”

  I can’t close this chapter of my life until I know what really happened.

  I want to know why Zoey played with my head like that.

  I want to know if I really love her, or if I’m just a slave to the desire she stirred up within me.

  And I want to know if I’m the reason Gwen left Deer Valley.

  That’s all I want. And since I know neither of them would give me a straight answer, and because Lawrence suggested it, I decided that it would be worth my time to come to you since you seem to know more than you’re letting on. No one else can do me this solid, man. Come on. Please. Just tell me everything you know.

  “…”

  So that’s how it’s gonna be huh? I guess nothing I ever do is EVER ENOU-

  Oof, almost hit the table really REALLY hard that time. You know, even though I got kicked off the basketball team, even though my dream of an NCAA debut is all but over, I’m still terrified slamming my hands against the table and hurting them. I still want to play. I still really, really want to play basketball. You have no idea what passion is, do you? You have no idea what ambition and drive are, right? The first club you joined was out of your deep-seated lust or love or whatever the fuck it is for Zoey Brahm.

  Yeah, I guess you were never going to tell me anything, even if I did my best to open up to you. And I guess I kinda knew that. We’re two guys who happened to like the same girl, and nothing I can say will change that. But there’s something else I wanted to say to you too. And it’s that we’re different. I have ambition, drive, and a desire for greatness. You, though. You are a seedy, spineless, snotnosed fucking loser with no backbone who would betray every single friend of yours if Zoey Brahm said so, because she’s the only thing you have going for you in your miserable life.

  You might believe that you’re better than me right now because you have a bit of her attention, but you are nothing. And the second she drops you for the next guy, you will never have anything until the next girl, who will be far more mediocre than Zoey Brahm is, walks into your life. That’s all you are, Tristan. You are a sad, empty man entirely defined by the women in his life. We’ll talk later, bro. Or not. I don’t really care. I’ve said everything that I care to say to you. If you change your mind about telling me the truth, then hit me up or something. Ask Lawrence for my number. But until then, enjoy Zoey’s lips enough for us both, ‘kay?