Chapter Text
“Has anyone seen my blue soccer socks?” Justin stepped into the living room, folding his arms. The wooden floor was cold under his one bare foot, and despite the fact that he was wearing a single white sock on the other, he’d been unsuccessful in locating any blue ones.
“You always lose your socks,” Elyse grumbled from the table where she was leaning over a fractions worksheet.
“I was mainly asking Mom,” he clarified, frowning at her. He was sure his sister would be just as upset if she had an important game coming up and she couldn't find her socks, though he didn't point that out.
“You said anyone.”
He narrowed his eyes, and she just stuck her tongue out at him.
“Justin, honey, they're laying across the couch,” their mom finally said, coming around the corner with a large basket of laundry in her arms. He couldn't even see her face, the pile of clothes was so tall. It looked like it was about to topple over.
“You need help with that?” he asked, jutting his finger toward the basket even though she probably couldn’t tell.
“Oh, that would be great, thank you,” she breathed, holding it out for him as he walked toward her with a reluctant smile.
She’d just gotten home from work and still looked tired. Justin was taller and stronger than her anyway. He should've been the one doing all the laundry in the first place. He probably would’ve found his socks much earlier.
He took the overflowing basket of clothes over to the couch, setting it down with a soft thud on the cushions, and then grabbed the royal blue socks he'd been looking for so fervently in his bedroom before.
He sighed and started to head back to the stairs. He could fold the clothes later… after he was ready for his game. Or just let his mom fold them. He was still debating it.
Annoyingly enough, he was stopped for another chore before he reached the top step.
“Hey, Justin? Before you go back up there, could you take the trash out, too?”
“Mom, I’m supposed to be at a game in three hours,” he complained. That was hardly any time to prepare. He took soccer very seriously. He had to give his everything or he wouldn’t be satisfied. He needed to be one hundred percent ready. “Why can’t Elyse do it?”
He could practically hear Elyse’s scowl from the dining room. She was in a mood today. He’d been noticing that from her lately. She’d certainly been a lot more fun before she’d become an almost-teenager.
“She’s doing her homework,” his mom called, and he had to frown. How could he have forgotten that? Her fractions. She’d been complaining about them all weekend.
“I’ll do it… in a few minutes,” Justin said, trudging the rest of the way up to his bedroom.
It was kind of a mess in there today. He hadn’t had a chance to clean it during the week since he’d been booked with so many practices on top of school. Fall was always a bit stressful. Playing football and club soccer at the same time took lots of dedication, and he had it in him. There were just… a few things he had to sacrifice in order to maintain everything at times.
His dad would probably be annoyed when he finally got home if he walked past, but Justin didn’t really care. It was the same lecture every day. And for what? He could clean his room later, when he was done scoring goals. His team needed him, and in his opinion, that was more important than keeping his things tidy all the time.
Even so, he picked up a few of his dirty clothes as he walked in. He still had to locate his white jersey. Last week he’d worn his blue one, since the game had been in Jackson Valley, so it shouldn't have been dirty. But…
He rubbed his face. Honestly, why was he okay with everything being such a mess? It did get annoying sometimes. He should’ve given all these clothes to his mom an hour ago.
Out of nowhere, there was a humming sound. His iPhone, vibrating on his desk. He raised an eyebrow as he picked it up, perplexed at first as to why someone would be calling him at such a random time— or Facetiming, rather— but it was just Emmett.
“...Hey,” Justin murmured as he hit the answer button, narrowing his eyes. “What do you want?”
Emmett smirked, his brown eyes lighting with eagerness. “You’re in a mood.”
“I am not in a mood. My sister’s in a mood. It must’ve projected onto me,” Justin told him flatly, propping his phone against a half-full water bottle he had laying next to a pile of textbooks. It fell at once, and he growled, moving it over to hold itself up against the textbooks instead.
“Uhh.” Emmett’s voice came off light, casual, and melodious like it usually did. “Well, do you wanna hang out before the game? I didn’t have a shift today. But we can still get a discount if we go get Pizza Hut.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Justin had to smile.
“Hmm. Maybe… Though, I’m supposed to be doing a bunch of chores, and I have to prepare for the game, you know. So I don’t—”
“What do you mean, prepare? You went to practice yesterday. And you even stayed late. Come on, dude.”
Justin sucked in a breath. “Yeah, but… Yesterday, I was annoyed at you. And I wanted to run some of my new techniques by Coach.”
It was Emmett’s turn to look uncertain. “Are you really still bitter about the Rachel thing? How many times do I have to tell you? It was a study date. Emphasis on study.”
“She’s my ex.” Justin sat down, leaning his chin against his arm.
“There was zero romantic tension, Justin.” Emmett pretended like he was gagging. “That’s just gross. Obviously… she’s awful, and why would I…? I wouldn’t. I swear.”
Justin shrugged. He believed him, mostly. But it was Rachel he didn’t trust, and that being said, he wouldn’t have put it past Emmett to keep something from him just to spare his feelings if… more had happened than he’d anticipated.
“It’s the Bro Code,” Emmett continued anyway.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m not annoyed anymore.” Justin waved his hands in front of his face. “I’m just worried about the game. I’m more worried about the game,” he clarified, wanting to make sure Emmett didn’t think he was genuinely still mad at him for anything. Even though thinking about Rachel and his best friend spending alone time together made him want to punch a wall.
Emmett didn't seem to think any more of it, luckily, considering he was laughing. “Why? You’re like the best player on our team. And our team always wins, thanks to you. Seriously. Like… I don’t even have to do my job as goalie half the time, because you’re so good at offense. And defending.” He groaned, acting mockingly sad. “It’s ridiculous.”
Justin rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… yeah. I mean. Thanks. But sometimes… I just feel like that’s not enough. You know? Because, if we lose…” He tugged on one of the drawstrings of his navy blue hoodie.
“So what? It’s just a game, Justin.” Emmett’s eyes widened teasingly, and he drew out his next word very slowly. “Remember…?”
“Yeah, okay, whatever, man.”
“For real though! You need to stop taking this so seriously. There’s going to be some games that we lose. There always has been.”
Justin sighed. “But that hasn’t happened since like, junior high.”
“Yeah.” Emmett rolled his eyes. “Our team in seventh grade sucked, and you cried after every practice. You’re just proving my point.”
Justin grinned sheepishly. “Fine, Emmett. I’ll go get pizza with you. But later. After I finish my chores.” It seemed like he was saying ‘later’ to everything these days.
“Do you have a lot? I’m already starving.”
“Well, not really. But go get a snack or something. Your house is full of them.” Emmett’s house was full of everything. He had five siblings, for crying out loud.
“No, but Tristan ate all the Doritos, and Blake took the last Twinkie.” His nostrils flared in annoyance.
“Dang. Our moms need to go on another one of their shopping trips, I guess,” Justin said, grimacing. His household had been running a bit low on snacks too.
Emmett nodded, and then all Justin could see for a moment was his ceiling fan. He was getting out of his bed, probably. There were a few seconds of silence. Then his fluffy dark hair appeared once again, the motion’s energy matching his grin.
Justin leaned more heavily against his desk. “I do still need to prepare for the game a little… so I should probably go now,” he announced, after he’d thought about it.
“Yeah, sure. See ya later, man,” Emmett agreed.
“Peace out,” Justin said, did a little wave, and then hung up.
He heaved a long sigh after that. Having a best friend was exhausting. Having any friends was exhausting. Despite wanting to spend time with Emmett, and make good on what he’d just told him, he still wasn’t all that thrilled about going to get pizza. He wanted extra time to prepare even though Emmett had made plenty of good points about that being ridiculous. He was taking soccer too seriously, blah, blah blah…
It was the most important thing in his life. How else was he supposed to take it?
As soon as he got the rest of his soccer stuff together— which wasn’t much since most of it was already where it needed to be— he darted back down the stairs, eyeing the calendar on the kitchen wall.
If it was really Thursday already…
He begrudgingly went to take the trash out, passing by Elyse on the way to the back door.
“Don’t get attacked by wolves,” she commented, smirking at him.
“Hardy har har,” he murmured in response, though he had to smile back. The wolves thing had been a running joke between them forever. There’d never been anything remotely dangerous in their neighborhood as far as he could remember, which was part of what made it funny. “In the middle of the day.” He snorted.
Elyse giggled, and he set off, down the porch steps and past the driveway, where his gray BMW resided. He had to grin. He was in love with that thing. He’d just gotten it a couple of weeks ago for his sixteenth birthday.
Slinging the garbage bag over his shoulder, he crossed the road to the curb. Even now, the sun was unusually bright beating down on him. He had a feeling it was going to be a miserable soccer game, at least slightly. He wasn't used to the sun being out so often, and it was a nuisance. Why couldn't it just be cloudy? It was October, for Pete’s sake.
He paused when he heard a distant rumbling sound somewhere down the road. A car? He squinted into the street. He didn't see any…
He jumped about a foot in the air as soon as he realized that the sound had actually come from behind him, and there was a car right there. Or a van, rather…
He scrambled to the side of the road in a desperate attempt not to get run over as it started to pass by his house.
Except it didn't pass by. It stopped and parked.
“Uhhh. What?” Justin cocked his head to the side. Was his mom expecting someone…?
His reaction was late. There was already a person coming out of the passenger seat, grabbing his arms before he could even scream. A woman, at that. One that wore a lab coat and carried several guns.
“Hey!” he finally got out, shock flooding his system like water freed from a dam. Surely someone was seeing this. It was eleven in the morning.
He yelled a string of curse words, fighting his way out of the woman’s grasp. He was stronger than her— a lot stronger. But she had those weapons…
She pointed one at his chest.
“You wouldn't actually…” He shook his head, stumbling backwards several feet. He’d thought they were guns a moment ago, but now that he was looking closer, the weapons weren’t that familiar. They looked more like… something out of a sci-fi movie.
“Oh, but I would,” the woman cooed, her voice like ice. It made Justin shudder.
He relaxed a bit and raised his arms so she wouldn’t shoot him. “Fine… Whatever. Just… What do you want with me? I’m supposed to be at a soccer game in two hours.”
“You talk too much, boy,” she grumbled, cocking her weapon-thing.
Panic settled over him. “Don't shoot me,” he pleaded. His throat was burning. He couldn't stand it if he got kidnapped. The rumors that would start going around the school would be dreadful… and his family would be so worried.
Where were they now? Why wasn’t anybody looking out the window?
“You’ll understand soon enough,” the woman insisted. She pulled her trigger.
There was a freezing cold blast, and then everything went completely numb.