His hands burned from the asphalt. Like a coral rock, Aleksi’s hands were indented and red all over his palms. He quickly turned around to look like he could actually play basketball. But he couldn’t. Aleksi knew nothing of the sport and had no idea what any of the symbolic lines meant. He did know and outdoor asphalt court is not as ideal as the indoor gymnasium. But to him he knew it was more important to attempt to blend in than stick out.
He stood up in a way he could try to hind his dishevelment, he fixed his shirt tuck and ran his hand through his hair too quick that it looked odd. Aleksi had not planned on being this embarrassed, an awkward conversation with his classmates or even dropping a pen would have done it. But his dry gulp and rapidly pacing eyes said otherwise.
“What a fuckin’ pussy” said Tyler.
Aleksi whimpered internally, but outwardly he stuck his chin out.
“Its nothing I’m good man.”
But everyone else was already not listening to him. The entire group have moved with the ball and from his fallen busted self.
Aleksi felt betrayed. By society. By his church. By the school. Even by his parents. Somehow by his brother. None of them were there for him? He is there for them when they call mass twice a week, when school needs him there at 7:15, when his parents need dishes washed, and Aleksi is there when he brother needs someone to play video games with.
The internal wounds of being left alone, being undervalued as even a basketball player -even though he was not one was beside the point- hurt him. He wanted to have the chance to learn from someone about how to dribble the ball, he wanted to know what constitutes a foul. Was what Tyler did to a legal play? Aleksi had no actual idea and looked like a dumb-ass in front of his classmates because he had a suspicion it probably was a foul, be had no way to actually know. Even asking if it were a foul he risked further looking dumb.
So he just stood there, surrounded by people but alone. Completely in contact with adults and his fake friends. No one cared enough to open him up, no one checked on him and these ideas burned in his very soul. Like a com-busting engine this hateful sorrow burned in his core. Tears built up in his eyes but he knew not to blink as to cause them to roll down his cheeks, he just stood there breathing to no rhythm. His hands went from balled to openly grasping the air. He did not know what he wanted, love from them or the chance to punish them; to hold them accountable from all their trespasses against them. He knew he needed love, but knew who would give it too them, but Aleksi did know know how to go about it.
Should he have tell the people who should love him to love him?