The gym was quieter now, the crowd trickling out into the cool evening air. Max stepped outside, still sweaty and buzzed from the game, his water bottle swinging in his hand. He spotted Jaxon sitting on a low brick wall near the parking lot, the glow of a nearby streetlamp casting soft shadows over him.
His sketchbook was open, but Jaxon wasn’t drawing. He was just staring at the page, his expression distant.
Max walked over, his footsteps crunching against the gravel. “Hey,” he said, stopping a few feet away.
Jaxon glanced up, startled. “What do you want?” His voice wasn’t sharp, just tired.
Max pointed to the sketchbook. “What are you drawing?”
Jaxon’s fingers instinctively closed the book halfway, hiding the page. “Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Max said, stepping closer.
Jaxon stood, clutching the book to his chest. “It’s none of your business.”
That only made Max more curious. Before Jaxon could react, Max reached out and snatched the book from his hands.
“Max! Give it back!” Jaxon shouted, lunging for him, but Max sidestepped, flipping the book open as he jogged a few steps away.
He laughed at first, thinking it would just be some random doodles. But the second he saw the pages, he froze.
It was him.
Every page, every line, every sketch him. There was one of him leaning against the lockers, and another of him laughing with his friends. His hands, his face, even his profile from angles he didn’t know anyone noticed.
Then he turned to the last page. It was from today, during the game. It was so detailed, so perfect it almost didn’t look real. His hand gripping the water bottle, the curve of his jaw, his Adam’s apple—every detail was there, every line blended like it was real.
He stared at it for a long moment, completely stunned.
“Give it back!” Jaxon’s voice cut through the silence as he yanked the book out of Max’s hands. He hugged it to his chest, his face red, his breathing sharp.
Max finally found his voice. “Did you draw all of these?”
Jaxon didn’t answer. He just turned to walk away.
“Wait,” Max said, stepping forward and grabbing his wrist.
Jaxon stopped but didn’t turn around.
Max hesitated, then said, “They’re... good. Like, good.”
Jaxon glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. “You think this is funny?”
“No,” Max said quickly. “I mean it. They’re amazing.”
Jaxon blinked, clearly caught off guard. He didn’t say anything, but a small, almost reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he pulled his wrist free and walked off.
Betrayal
The next day, Jaxon walked into school, his bag slung over one shoulder, his sketchbook tucked safely inside. He noticed people staring as he walked down the hall more than usual. A couple of kids whispered to each other, their eyes darting toward him before laughing under their breath.
He frowned, confused. What was going on?
By third period, the tension was unbearable. People were staring, whispering, pointing. Jaxon sat at his desk, gripping the edge of the table as a girl leaned over and whispered, “Is it true? You’re, like, obsessed with Max?”
Jaxon’s stomach dropped.
“What?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The girl giggled and held up her phone, showing him a blurry video of Max laughing with his friends. In the video, Max’s voice rang out loud and clear.
“He’s got this whole sketchbook full of me. It’s kinda weird, right? Dude’s obsessed.”
Jaxon’s heart sank. His hands shook as he shoved the phone away and stormed out of the classroom.
By the time lunch rolled around, Jaxon’s anger was boiling over. He marched straight into the cafeteria, ignoring the stares and whispers, heading right for Max’s table.
Max looked up, mid-laugh when Jaxon slammed his hands on the table.
“Why the hell would you do that?” Jaxon yelled, his voice ringing out across the cafeteria.
The entire room went silent. Phones were already out, recording.
Max’s smile faded. “Jaxon, I—”
“Don’t,” Jaxon snapped, cutting him off. “You don’t get to humiliate me and then act like you didn’t know what you were doing. You think this is funny? You think my life is some kind of joke?”
Max stood up, reaching for Jaxon, but Jaxon slapped his hand away.
“Don’t touch me,” Jaxon said through gritted teeth. His voice cracked, but he didn’t care.
“Jaxon, I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t mean?” Jaxon laughed bitterly, his eyes brimming with tears. “You told everyone I’m obsessed with you, and you didn’t mean?”
Max stood there, silent, as Jaxon shook his head and turned to leave.
The cafeteria was dead quiet as Jaxon stormed out, and Max could feel every pair of eyes on him. Max grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and followed Jaxon out, ignoring the whispers and stares.
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