If Red Means No, Invert The Color

Chapter 2

For the next three days; the boy visited Kieran's room every night at 7:30pm, while he was sleeping, dropped off flowers, apologised and then left. Over the course of those three days Kieran had a series of X-Rays, a minor operation on his foot, of which they had discovered the injuries were more serious than they had originally thought, and a lot of practicing walking around on his new crutches. But now, it was the fourth day, meaning Kieran could go home. The doctor had prescribed him some painkillers, cream for the road rash, and had scheduled him an appointment with a physical therapist for his foot and ankle. Today he woke up with a sense of relief, finally able to go home to his own bed. Even though his home was not the best, he still really loved his bed. He was especially looking forward to eating real food. But this morning he woke up with another surprise, a new set of flowers sat in the vase besides him, a new set had arrived everyday but he hadn't had a clue as to who had sent them.

His nurse helped him get dressed in the clothes his mother had left him and she taught him how to wrap his foot everyday and how to put on his brace. His mother would be arriving shortly and he honestly couldn't wait to get home. But, he was dreading the crutches. And the thought of physical therapy made him want to be ill. But, none the less, he treaded on and couldn't help but beam with happiness upon his mother's arrival.

The car-ride home was horribly and awkwardly silent. Neither Kieran's mother, nor him talked. Neither murmured a word. They just drove. Lots of thoughts bubbled around in kieran's head like his desktop screensaver. The flowers he had accumulated over the past three nights now sat in the back seat of his mother's old mini van. He couldn't help but wonder who had been sending him these flowers. His mother had insisted it wasn't her, and the nurse had said it was a boy... Sighing, Kieran reaches forward to the radio, flipping through the channels until he found one that was playing somewhat decent music. He sat back and closed his eyes, attempting to relax until he got home.

~~~

He was running at an impressively fast pace like a horse going in a full throttle. His eyes were focused on the painted white line in the grass ahead of him, it got closer and closer as he ran forward, quickening his pace when he feels his opponents at his heels. He clenches the ball at his side, his entire body sweating heavily, his feet thrusting the mud beneath his feet behind him as he ran. The air was knocked out of him as he feels to large arms wrapping around him, tackling him to the ground. He spit out a chunk of turf from his mouth, slowly standing to his feet. He could hear his teammates chuckling. "Almost had it Daniel's, almost had it." his coach calls out, patting his back. He rolls his eyes, his speed has been shit lately ever since the accident. He's lost his touch.

Everest sighed, sitting down on one of the cool metal benches and taking a swig from his water bottle, spitting the contents out to rid his mouth of the turf residue. He looked out onto the open football field, yards upon yards of grass spread as far as the eye can see, freshly painted white lines divided up the field. The sun was beating down on him; it's steamy rays making Everest's skin sweat immensely. Luckily by now, his skin was so used to being burnt by the sun, it just tanned.

Everest grabbed a towel from the rack beside him, wiping the sweat from his brow after removing his helmet and taking out his teeth guard. He wiped away at his skin viciously, sweat now soaking through his hair and dripping onto the ground. He looked up to his coach and gestured towards the locker room. His coach nodded. There was another two hours left till practice but Everest had an appointment to get to. So, he picked up his helmet and water bottle, and headed towards the showers.

Everest loved the feeling of showering after practice; of being clean. He started the water tap and ridded himself of his uniform, hanging it up in his locker and putting his pants and jersey in his bag to take home and wash. Peeling the sticky soaked underclothes off of him, he cast them aside and quickly hopped in the shower. He sighed contently as the steamy hot water trickled down his body, taking all the sweat and dirt away with it. He grabbed his shower bag off of the shelf, pulling out his shampoo and conditioner 2-in-one as well as a wash cloth and a bar of soap. He could feel the dirt and grime of his three hours of football practice washing away and disappearing into the drain, lathering the shampoo into his bronze curly locks and scrubbing his scalp to perfection. Soon he was all cleaned and into a pair of clean, loose fitting basketball shorts and a plain red T-shirt. He packed all of his remaining things into his backpack and duffle bag and after checking his hair, descended towards the school's parking lot.