Los Angeles | 2011
Bradley's POV
I stood by my locker, methodically arranging the textbooks inside. First days anywhere are always a meticulous process of establishing order amidst chaos, setting yourself in another environment. Palisades High School was definitely different from Northwood. In many ways, it felt like a step back, a downgrade. Northwood had been a bubble, holistically better funded and geared toward student development. Palisades felt… realer. More like the stereotypical American High School experience I remembered from movies. The halls were louder, messier. Uncaring students pushed past each other, lost in their own social dramas. Teachers I passed had a weary, resigned look, disgusted at the state of the school while simultaneously trying to ignore everything around them.
This was always going to be an uphill battle, especially with the basketball program. But I knew that. And for the ends that I desired, I would have to get my hands dirty.
I finished organizing my locker and roamed around the halls for a bit, my eyes scanning the crowd, waiting to see when Alex would come in. Summer had been a whirlwind. After the Chicago trip, there had been basketball camps, endless practice sessions, and stolen moments with Alex whenever our schedules aligned. She had spent two weeks on a family ranching trip in Wyoming where there was apparently zero cell service, a digital black hole. We couldn't talk much during that time, just a few static-filled phone calls. Then I'd had to go to a basketball training session up north right when she got back. We'd spoken on the phone, but it just wasn't the same.
Just as the bell for the first class was about to ring, I saw her. She and Haley were navigating the crowded hallway, Alex looking small and slightly overwhelmed amidst the chaos of upperclassmen. My heart gave a stupid, teenage lurch. Now that I could see her, I was finally excited to meet her, the low-level anxiety of the first day dissolving into simple, happy anticipation.
I spotted them navigating the crowded hallway – Alex and Haley. I waved at her so she would see me, though frankly, it wasn't strictly necessary anymore. Not that it mattered much because of the height I had reached now. Almost touching six feet felt like a superpower. Being 5'11.5" at fourteen years of age was an unreal achievement, a checkmark against a goal I'd subconsciously held since I first picked up a basketball. Every morning, I still glanced at the marker point on the doorframe at home and grinned. Genetic lottery, indeed.
When she saw me, there was a smile, but it was quickly followed by a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. She whispered something to Haley, who nodded and gave her a shoulder squeeze before Alex parted to walk towards me. Strange.
When she came near, I held her hand and bent down to kiss her – a simple, hello kiss. But she seemed surprised at first, pulling back slightly, her eyes searching mine. Weird.
"You okay?" I asked, perplexed.
That question seemed to break her trance. "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm okay, I just..." she trailed off, then quickly changed tack. "It's nothing, probably drowsy from the morning. Did you find the classroom?"
She was definitely changing the subject. I could have pushed but seeing the subtle anxiety still lingering around her eyes, I let it go. "Yeah, I did. Come on, I'll take you."
We started walking to class, weaving through the last few stragglers. "So how were the last few days of summer?" I asked, trying to bring back the easy normalcy.
Her hand tensed in mine, just for a second, but I felt it. "Oh, nothing much. It was just tiring after we came back from Wyoming. Quite a bit of horse riding and ranching activities made my body hurt from all sides."
I couldn't help but chuckle, picturing her on a horse. "Yeah, I guess horse riding can be tough on your ass if you do it the first time."
She hit me on the shoulder at that, but she smiled a little too. "We'll see how you fare once you've had some real horse-riding lessons."
"Well, I have been on a horse, so I know what it's like," I added cheekily.
"That was a pony, and you know it!" she defended immediately. "Horses are completely different, especially when they are running full sprint, not trotting along like the one you had."
"Touché," I said, smiling. But her smile faltered again almost immediately. Something was going on. And I planned to find out, just not now. Not on the first day, not when she was already feeling off. "Well, here we are," I said as we reached the classroom door. "First class will be Geography, followed by Literature." I motioned for her to enter first, and she did, slipping past me into the room.
The morning classes unfolded in a frustratingly predictable pattern. Geography was a blur of tectonic plates and capital cities I already knew. Literature class involved a tedious breakdown of The Great Gatsby, a novel I respected but found emotionally vacant. My focus, however, wasn't on the lessons. It was entirely on the girl sitting next to me, the one who felt miles away despite being in the same room.
I tried talking to her, but Alex seems at times lost and at others hesitant to talk back. During a brief lull in Geography, I leaned forward. "Hey," I whispered. "Did you see the homework assignment? Kind of brutal for the first day, right?"
Alex jumped slightly, startled. She turned, her eyes wide for a second before settling into a carefully neutral expression. "Oh. Yeah. It's fine." She immediately turned back to her notebook, her posture rigid.
Okay. That was... concise.
In Literature, I tried a different approach. While the teacher droned on about the symbolism of the green light, I tore a small square from my notebook and quickly sketched a chessboard. I slid it onto her desk. Bradley tries to grab her interest by asking her for a game of paper chess. Your move, I mouthed silently.
Normally, this would elicit a competitive spark, a sly smile. But today, she played half-heartedly. Her moves were slow, distracted. She made obvious blunders, sacrificing pieces without thought. It led to her quick loss. When I finally placed my makeshift paper knight in checkmate, she just shrugged, offered a weak, distracted smile, and turned back to the front, underlining a passage in her book with unnecessary force.
It was like trying to have a conversation with a ghost. She also struck me down once in a while, whenever my attempts to engage became too persistent. "Brad," she hissed during a transition between teacher's points, not even looking at me. "Focus on the class. We're in high school now. We should act like it."
"I am focusing," I whispered back. "Just multitasking."
"Well, don't," she retorted sharply. "I don't wish to be seen as a slacker, so we shouldn't get caught talking."
The rejection stung, sharp and confusing. This wasn't the Alex I knew, the partner who thrived on intellectual sparring, the girlfriend whose eyes lit up when we talked. This was someone guarded, distant, almost... scared?
Some new students were also introduced in class, fresh faces trying to navigate the daunting social hierarchy of a new school, but honestly, I was too focused on Alex to notice them much beyond a cursory glance. My own internal landscape was far more turbulent.
Finally, the bell for lunch rang, a jarring klaxon that released us into the noisy, chaotic river of the hallway. We walked to the cafeteria in a tense, awkward silence. The usual easy banter was gone, replaced by a chasm I didn't know how to bridge.
We found our usual crew already staking out a table. Leo, Mandella, and David were in different classes this time around, a consequence of the larger high school structure, with only Patrick being in the same homeroom and initial classes as Alex and me. It felt strange, fragmented.
"Hey guys," Leo greeted us, though his usual boisterous energy seemed slightly dimmed by the palpable tension between Alex and me.
We all sat down. Alex immediately got engrossed in arranging her food, avoiding eye contact with everyone. While Mandella and I were grabbing our trays from the line, I decided to take a gamble.
"Hey, Mandella," I started, keeping my voice low. "Do you know what's up with Alex? She seems... off today."
Mandella looked at me, then glanced over at Alex, then back at me, her expression sharp and unimpressed. "Why don't you ask her directly instead of snooping around like Sherlock Holmes?"
Brad chuckled despite himself. Fair enough. "Takes one to know one," I retorted, but took it to heart.
After all of them sat and had a hearty—if somewhat subdued—meal, the bell rang again, signaling the end of lunch. Practice was next for me. But I couldn't go like this. Not with this unresolved thing hanging between us.
As the group started to disperse, Alex made a move to head towards her locker. This was my chance. I cornered Alex near the lockers I had to be quick as I had practice after lunch.
"Alex, wait," I said, stepping into her path. "We need to talk. What's going on?"
The change in her was immediate and jarring. The distant, cold mask she'd worn all day crumbled. She looked at me, apprehensive, and then scared. Scared? What the hell happened to make her scared of me?
Then she finally let out a whimper as her eyes began tearing up. A cold knot formed in my stomach. Now I was scared. "Hey, hey, it's okay," I said quickly, my own carefully constructed anger dissolving into concern. "You can tell me. We can figure it out. If you don't wanna talk right now, we can talk later, okay? I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry, Lexi." My words came out in a flurry as I reached out instinctively and wiped the tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
"Something—something happened on the Wyoming trip," she mumbled, her voice so low I almost didn't hear it.
"What happened?" I asked, my voice soft now, concerned and curious.
Her breath hitched, and the words tumbled out in a choked rush. "Brad, I'm sorry. I didn't know how it happened, and by the time I realized what had happened, it was all over." She choked back a sob. "I—I hated it, and then I realized how bad it was, and then I was scared, so scared about how to tell you. I just couldn't even think about it properly. Then we came back home, and I just kept thinking about how it all happened, then so much time passed, and I got even more scared. I'm sorry, Brad, I'm so sorry, please, you have to forgive me." She rambled, more tears forming, and my own heart gnawed at the implications.
"Lexi, what happened? Please just tell me," I said, placing my hands on her shoulders.
"A—a boy k-kissed me," she finally mumbled out, her eyes squeezed shut.
My mind went blank. A strange, ringing silence filled my ears. Then, a hot, dark rage started boiling up from somewhere deep inside. "What do you mean, a boy kissed you?" I asked, my voice dangerously low, my teeth almost gnashing. I saw her flinch, and it seemed to scare her further.
"There was this boy on the trip," she stuttered, her explanation frantic. "He was annoying me, so I told him how rude and brash he was. Then when I was on the tree swing with Lily, he approached me, so I gave him a dressing down because he kept calling me 'gorgeous', but then, as I was saying this, he just leaned in and kissed me! Brad, you have to believe me, I didn't do it! I was caught off guard! It didn't mean anything!" she pleaded.
My mind flashed back, not to my own memories, but to the borrowed ones. I remembered that a boy had kissed Alex during her trip to Wyoming in season 3. So, it happened again. The logical part of my brain processed the information. It wasn't her fault. It was a non-consensual act. She was the victim here. But the emotional part of me, the part that was bound to Alex, the one that cared and loved our relationship, that part was screaming. It couldn't accept the constant flood of imagery that assaulted my mind: Alex kissing some faceless boy. Her lips. Someone else.
"Brad, say something. Anything, please," Alex said, her hand reaching out, desperately holding my hand.
A dry chuckle escaped me. It sounded hollow, alien. I gripped her hand, forcing a semblance of calm. "It's okay, Lexi. You didn't mean it. You were the passive party throughout all of this. It's okay. There is nothing wrong," I said, the words feeling like ashes in my mouth as I tried to pacify her.
She was shocked. "Are—are you sure? I did something wrong, Bradley! You have every right to be angry, to rage, to shout at me!" she said, almost pleading for me to react, to validate her guilt.
"I know. But I just don't want to," I said, the lie tasting bitter. "Everyone makes mistakes, and we can always get over things like this." I needed space. I needed the court. "Now, I have practice to attend, so I'll see you after, okay?"
"Brad, please, I know you're not fine," she said, her voice full of a care that, somehow, irked me. "I can feel it. You say it's okay, but you're not okay inside."
"I'm fine, Alex," I insisted, pulling my hand away. "It's a shock to know this, but I'm fine, truly. I just want to get to practice and get it over with before I head to your house." She still looked hesitant, her eyes searching mine. "Listen to me," I said, forcing a calm I didn't feel. "You didn't feel anything from the kiss, you don't like the boy, and by all accounts, you were caught off guard. I can't blame you for this, and neither should you. Go to Cello. We will see each other later, okay?"
"O—okay," she said, almost defeated, the tension in her still not released.
I then picked up my kit bag and got ready to leave. She leaned in slightly, expecting a goodbye kiss, a reassurance. But the vindictive part of me, the hurt part, felt satisfied as I turned and walked away without kissing her. I knew it had hurt her when I just walked by. Another part of me, the one that cared for her, was still reeling from the hurt, and acting the way I just did hurt me as well. But I didn't know what else to do, how to act, knowing that someone had kissed her. Kissed MY Alex. MY Lexi.