This is post 1 of 4 posted on May 3, 2019.
Alaric hated soccer games. He hadn’t always. When he was younger, he’d been completely ambivalent about soccer, although he’d never wanted to play himself. Now, though, soccer was inextricably associated with Beckett. Alaric had never been to a soccer game that hadn’t been filled with fans screaming his brother’s name. That sound haunted his nightmares.
Most people would think that he was jealous, and on some level, Alaric was willing to admit, that was true. But in his mind, at least, there was a very important distinction: he had never wanted to be Beckett. He had never wanted his brother’s soccer skills, his pretty eyes, or his inherent charm. Alaric had just wanted people to recognize that what he had was better than what Beckett had. That he was more important. More valuable. At this point, he was desperate. Even just one person choosing him over Beckett would be enough.
The problem was, of course, that they had never really competed. They didn’t take the same classes. Alaric didn’t play sports. Beckett didn’t run for student government. Besides, all of those battlegrounds would give one of them an advantage. Alaric wanted to battle it out in a (moderately) fair fight, and know that he’d won because he was truly better than Beckett. But how could he do that?
It was with these thoughts on his mind that he left the much-despised soccer game behind him. He didn’t really have a destination in mind, but he couldn’t stand to watch the game any longer. After he’d walked for a while, he was surprised to find himself at the skating rink. He was even more surprised at what he found there.
Madeline Milne was twirling like a dancer, moving with a sort of fluid grace he’d never seen her display. He didn’t know much about the mechanics or choreography, so he had no idea how well she was doing. He was more interested in the flame in her eyes. He’d never seen her so focused before. Most of the time, she was cheerful, bubbly, and shallow. Now, though… she moved quickly, but with deliberation. The measured beauty of her movement was made through calculated precision that he’d had no idea she was capable of.
Alaric had meant to keep moving, but he found himself lingering at the rink, strangely fascinated by the seeming change in the girl who'd once been his competitor. When the routine was over, he knew he should probably leave, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there until Madeline approached him. She looked at him with puzzled hostility. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged languidly. “I found myself in the vicinity, so I stopped to watch. You were excellent.”
“You’re giving me a compliment?”
“I recognize talent when I see it. I didn’t even know you skated until today.”
She made a face. “Nobody does. It’s not a secret, but…” She trailed off, seemingly lost in thought. Then she focused on Alaric once more. “What are you even doing over here? Shouldn’t you be watching the soccer game?”
“I was over there, but sometimes…” He glanced at her again, and something he couldn’t quite identify compelled him to take a risk. “Sometimes I just can’t stand to see the way they all worship Beckett.”
Her eyes flew up to his in startled recognition. She spoke softly. “I know exactly how that feels.”
“He’s no better than we are, but they worship the ground he walks on.”
“Why? Because he’s nice?”
“Because he can kick a ball around a field?”
“Because he has pretty eyes?”
“Why does that make him special?”
“Why does it make us insignificant?”
“Why is it that all we are is our connection to him?”
In that moment, they understood each other perfectly. Alaric felt suddenly vulnerable. He’d never shared his innermost feelings with someone that way, and while it did feel like a weight off his chest, it also scared him. “I…” He paused, for once in his life unsure of what to say next.
“I never realized anyone else felt that way.” Madeline took the lead, and he was glad of it. He could respond to her.
“It’s always been like that. Even before he played soccer, everyone liked him better. It’s just gotten worse since.”
“Sometimes I regret introducing him to the coach. If I hadn’t, maybe people would actually know me as Madeline, and not just Beckett’s girlfriend.”
“You could always break up with him.”
“I tried once, remember? It wouldn’t help, anyway. I’d just become Beckett’s ex-girlfriend, and no one would talk to me at all. I like it better this way.”
“Well, if it helps… I promise from now on to always think of you as Madeline.”
“And I’ll think of you as Alaric.”
He couldn’t help but feel like they’d shared a moment… until he heard screams coming from the soccer field. They broke eye contact and both turned to stare in that direction. Alaric got the sudden feeling that something was horribly wrong.
Author's Note: Next chapter is short, but text-heavy. Carry on!
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