Chapter Text
The alarm clock on his phone buzzed, rattling against the nightstand and slicing through the silence.
Kyle jolted awake, heart skipping a beat before his body sank back into the mattress. He reached for his phone, squinting at the screen.
No messages.
No missed calls.
Nothing.
He sighed, thumb hovering over Brenda’s name for a moment, looking at the unread messages. before setting the phone down again. He knew she was really busy lately with her new job on top of being the cheer captain but it would still be nice if she at least read his messages.
Pushing the thoughts aside and into the back of his head, Kyle groaned and rubbed his face, not feeling like going through another day of fearfully following Max’s orders. Not wanting to pretend he didn’t care who got hurt, Not wanting to pretend it didn’t bother him to be the muscle behind someone else’s cruelty.
He dragged himself out of bed and pulled on his favorite school shirt, the one that still smelled faintly of Brenda’s perfume mixed with dried sweat. The scent was bittersweet. It reminded him of before things started getting weird between them. Back when she had enough time and energy to hang out with him. Kyle didn’t blame her though, she was just busy. Kyle also was in the same way. He just worked at his dad’s restaurant doing whatever his dad wanted to do.
He stood there for a moment, staring at the floor, the morning light stretching thin and pale across his room. Maybe he’ll catch a break today? If he just lays low, he might be able to avoid Max. But that was unlikely because they share a mandatory art class together. Maybe if Kyle just acts tired, Max will leave him alone. Kyle’s done it before but it doesn’t always work.
Being a linebacker was supposed to make him feel powerful. Instead, it just made him feel… heavy. Tired. Kyle definitely prefers the swim team a lot more over football.
Kyle started to make his way out of his room and downstairs to get breakfast but paused halfway down the stairs. Downstairs, he heard the refrigerator door slam and the sound of glass jars clinking. Uncle Bailey was getting ready for work again, muttering under his breath. Then came the muffled edge of a phone argument. His dad’s voice faint but sharp on the other end.
“—not your call, Bailey! She wanted him here—”
“Oh, sure, Have him live with his father who gives such little Crap about his son that he doesn’t bother to show up to any of his games!!” his uncle snapped. “You weren’t around when my sister went missing! Off on some “business trip” Fucking Every Bitch in Sight!!!”
“—Oh and you’re so perfect in this situation you fat pig?! How much money have you wasted spoiling that little brat?—“
Kyle stopped listening. He already knew what it was about. His mom. Her decision. The same fight, every few weeks.
He turned quietly and padded back up to his room.
Maybe he shouldn’t go downstairs yet.
Maybe it was better to pretend he hadn’t heard anything.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the blank lock screen on his phone again. A pale reflection of his own face stared back at him, tired eyes, messy hair, a forced half smile that didn’t convince even him.
He was gonna be screwed today.
——————————————————————————
The bus smelled like exhaust and cheap perfume. The air was heavy with chatter, laughter, and the squeak of sneakers against the floor. Kyle stepped on, earbuds in, trying to act like he didn’t notice the way a few kids quieted down when he passed by.
That was one of the perks of being Max’s right-hand guy: people didn’t mess with him. But it didn’t feel like power, it felt like being watched. Like everyone was waiting for him to snap and lash out.
He spotted Brenda near the back of the bus, sitting by the window. Her hazel brown hair caught the thin morning light, and her reflection flickered in the glass beside her. For a second, he hesitated. Wasn’t sure if she was in a good enough mood to sit by.
Still, he made himself move.
“Hey,” he said quietly, sliding into the seat beside her.
Brenda looked up from her phone, a small smile flickering across her lips. “Hey, sleepyhead. Rough morning?”
“You could say that.” He tried to laugh, but it came out flat.
The bus lurched forward, sending a soft vibration through the metal floor. Outside, the streets blurred by, rows of houses, autumn leaves swept into gutters, people driving to work. Kyle doesn’t know why but he just doesn’t feel like he really belongs there.
Brenda tucked her hair behind her ear and went back to scrolling. Kyle glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her legs crossed neatly, her oversized HFHS hoodie draped loose and comfortable. She always looked like she had it together, Even half asleep on a school bus.
He shifted in his seat, suddenly aware of how his shirt clung to his shoulders, how his thighs filled too much space. His arms looked bulky in the reflection of the window, but not in a good way, not strong, just… heavy.
He used to like being big. It made him feel safe. Now, next to Brenda, it just made him feel clumsy.
“Something on your mind?” she asked without looking up.
Kyle blinked. “What?”
“You’re doing that thing again,” she said, smiling faintly. “The overthinking face.”
He huffed a small laugh. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess. I gotta go to practice later so… you know.”
Brenda’s eyes softened a little. “You don’t even like football anymore, do you?”
Kyle didn’t answer right away. He stared at his reflection again, his own face faintly superimposed over hers in the window, two different people heading to the same place but going in opposite directions.
”It’s complicated,” he finally said.
Brenda leaned her head against the glass, her tone quieter. “Everything’s complicated lately.”
The words lingered between them, heavier than the sound of the bus engine. Kyle wanted to say something, to ask if she meant them being complicated, but the thought twisted in his chest. Instead, he looked down at his hands, the small faint scars on his knuckles from last week’s practice still faintly visible.
Brenda sighed and leaned a little closer, her shoulder brushing his. For a second, the world outside the window slowed. Kyle closed his eyes, trying to pretend this was enough that he didn’t feel like he was being eaten alive from the inside by dread.
The bus hit a bump, jolting them apart. She gave a small laugh, shaking her head. He smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
They didn’t talk much after that. The rest of the ride was filled with quiet, just the rumble of the road and the low murmur of other voices.
As the school came into view, its red brick walls catching the morning light, Kyle felt his stomach twist. Another day. Another performance.
The bus hissed to a stop, and the doors folded open. Brenda stood first, pulling her backpack over her shoulder. She gave him a small, uncertain smile before stepping into the crowd.
Kyle stayed seated for a moment longer, staring out the window as the students streamed past. He could already see Max and Jason waiting near the entrance, tossing a football between each other. Max acting like he owned the world.
Kyle exhaled slowly, then grabbed his bag.
Time to play his part again.