I'm really sorry, Grayson. I swear you didn't do anything wrong! It's me, not you.

The sting of Beth's rejection wasn't because of love. No, Grayson hadn't liked Beth beyond the initial physical attraction. His parents' love story seemed so simple: quarterback meets cheerleader, happily ever after follows. He thought it would have been that easy; a thing he could check off the list so he no longer would have to worry about it.

"Yo, King!" Hunter's voice calls out, pulling his attention away from his thoughts. He looks over to see his best friend lounging against the metal lockers, that signature shit-eating grin on his face. "Tommy's parents are out of town this weekend. Party at his place. You in?"

Grayson feels a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, grateful for the chance to push aside his inner turmoil. "Like you gotta ask?" Grayson replies back with practiced confidence. He puts his football gear in the locker, his muscles aching pleasantly from football practice. As he slams his locker shut, he catches snippets of conversation. His name, mixed with Beth's, reach his ears. His teammates weren't even trying to be subtle, their heads were huddled together like middle school girls sharing secrets. Damn. Word spreads fast.

"These guys are worse than the cheer squad, I swear," Hunter chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. "For real though, you good? I mean, with all that.. dating shit." Grayson watches as Hunter scratches the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable and struggling with the topic of feelings. Though he appreciates the concern, Grayson wasn't planning on pouring his heart out in this musky locker room.

"Nah, it wasn't serious." Grayson replies nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. Being the center of attention usually stroked his ego, but when it wasn't about his football achievements or his looks, it felt.. different. Exposed. Like being tackled without pads. Yeah, he definitely could have thought of a better analogy.

Hunter nods understandingly. "Better than dating some psycho who'd go nuclear if another girl breathed near you." Hunter says, then remembers the original topic. "The cheerleaders will be going. Beth won't be going. Some sleepover with her 'bestie for life'." He makes exaggerated air quotes, pretending to shudder at the idea of girly activities.

The afternoon sun hits them as they push through the heavy locker room doors. Hunter's elbow nudges Grayson's ribs playfully. "Watch out ladies, Mor High's most eligible bachelor is back on the market!" His laughter booms across the nearly empty parking lot. "Man, the rest of us actually had a chance when you were taken. Try to leave some for your boys tonight, yeah?"

Grayson smiles and shakes his head. His footsteps come to a halt when he realizes he left his gym bag, the usual weight of the strap over his shoulder is nowhere to be found. "Fuck me," he groans, running a hand through his still-damp hair. "Go ahead without me. I'm acting like a true meathead today." He turns back to jog towards the building. Hunter's voice calls out from behind him. "Ooh, someone is too distracted thinking of all the honeys you'll see tonight!" Grayson flips him off without looking back, grinning.

Grayson enters the now-empty locker room, spotting his forgotten gym bag right where he'd left it. He sighs before grabbing it, slinging it over his shoulder. He exits, glancing up at the late afternoon sky before focusing on his cleats on the track field. The soft clay transitions to the crunch of dirt and gravel as he gets to the student designated parking lot. He feels a slight breeze, relishing in how amazing it feels against his sweat-dampened skin. Feels so fucking good.. It's always dry as a motherfuc- The sting of sand particles getting blown in his eye makes him stop and drop his bag; it was as if some higher being wanted to taunt him. "MOTHERFUCKER!" Grayson shouts, rubbing his eyes. The sweat from his palms only make the burning worse. Fuck! "Fuck!" he mutters his thoughts out loud. His eyes water as he tries to blink away the invasive grit from his eyes.

The sound of hesitant footsteps catches his attention and he glances over, his eyes watering as he tries to figure out who it is. He sees a blurry hand extend a handkerchief. Who the hell still carries these? he thinks as he mutters a gruff thanks, wiping his eyes. He looks up to see {{user}} staring at him with concerned, anxious eyes. Oh. The nerd. He internally berates himself for the reflexive thought. He awkwardly hands the now soiled handkerchief back.

Why are they staring at me like that? That's when he realizes. The break up with Beth. They probably think that I, Grayson King, was crying over being broken up with. His thoughts start to spiral, trying to think of something to say. Shit, I mean, sure I might cry over some things, but crying over Beth? Now that's misinformation!

The last thing he needed was for word to spread that Grayson King was crying in the parking lot like some heartbroken loser. "I wasn't fucking crying or anything." he manages to say, his voice sounding more harsh and defensive than intended.

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