colinjessup:
Itâs not like Colin thought that they could make it to the Championships without ever dropping a game. He might have wanted to, wanted to believe in his teammates because it felt like he owed them at least that much, but it wasnât something he just couldnât bring himself to do, not that whole-heartedly. Doubt protects him. Besides, heâs not sure if thereâs anyone on the team who had believed it: Colin isnât sure if even Grant does, or if itâs just his job to say so. To pretend.
But it sucks. Losing. Sucks wondering how much of it is his fault, when so many of their backliners are newer than he is, relying on his experience on the court. After a game like that, itâs hard to feel like thatâs anything but a joke: After a game like that, he misses playing with Zia more than ever. After a game like that, he wonders if heâs really as good as he thinks he is, or if a better backliner partner had just elevated his play.
A loss makes him feel adriftâso many of the Foxes tense and snappish, avoiding each other in their bad moods, even when it seems like they should be doing the opposite, coming together when their chips are down, to make sure that it doesnât happen again. But then again, theyâre Foxesâif they always did the right thing, or the smart thing, they might not be where they are.
It doesnât mean Colin likes it. He doesnât like the cloud hanging over Fox Tower, their practices. He doesnât like it when everyoneâs disparate, scattered to the winds, when he knows that he isnât enough to pull them back together. That there isnât enough of him. That he wants to at all is maybe the thing he likes the leastâit feels like the opposite of self-preservation. Feels like asking for disappointmentâsomething he never did until he became a Fox.
So when heâs bored and heâs aloneâ(which are both basically the same thing for him)âhe canât stop himself from going looking. The roof is a natural first place to look and, lo and behold, he hits the jackpot: itâs Teddy. Even if Colin apparently scares the crap out of him. âYeah, well, maybe if you checked your phone, you would have known I was looking for you,â he says, with a hint of a whine in his voice. âI texted you.â
Thereâs probably a couple of people that couldâve turned up then and made Teddy feel a bit better and Colin was definitely at the top of that list. Heâd taken Teddy in a bad numerous times by now and if he hadnât been able to cheer him up, which was rare, heâd at least kept him company. Sometimes Teddy just wanted company which was considerably easier to handle than his terrible, drunken ideas.
He figures right now that the last thing the team needs is for Teddy to go on one of his rampages. Heâs got classes he should be studying for, games he should be preparing for, so they donât lose again, and one of these days his antics are going to get him in trouble that could take all of that away from him. He knows he needs to stay focused or, in this case, get re-focused.
Teddy was still shaken up from meeting his step-dad, even though he really had no reason to be. It was a lot of take in, heâd heard about him and his half-sister over phone calls with his mom but it was weird knowing that they were, like, definitely real. He figured maybe he was just upset because it was a reminder that whilst heâd been stuck in Oakland, with a psychopath for a father, his mum had been rebuilding her life without him and that hurt.
âYou did? Wait, I turned it off...â He reached for his phone and switched it back on, briefly catching a glimpse of Colinâs text as a string of messages from his mom and various group chats lit up the phone. âOh my god, stop,â he muttered, turning the phone back off and shoving it underneath one of his books. âI wasnât avoiding you,â he quickly assured Colin. Teddy patted Bacon to get him to move then held up the other end of the blanket towards Colin. âCome here, distract me from studying before I lose my mind once and for all.â













