Chapter 22: Chapter 21[]
The pit in my stomach grows every painstaking second that creeps by.
It's like I can't look away.
'I can't just sit here.'
The Kate I know wouldn't just torment someone like this—not without reason anyway—and as far as I know, she has no personal vendettas against Floven.
'It's a ghost of her past I'm sure of it. There's no other explanation…'
Despite what my eyes show me, my heart refuses to believe anything until I talk to her. 'I need to talk to her.' I think flexing my hands as Floven's strangled cries ring in my ears. The sound of my own beating heart floods my senses as well. What I'm about to do is far out of line for anyone no matter whose son you were, but I didn't care.
At least that's what I wanted to think, even still I swallow hard. Marshal must've noticed the look on my face as he places his hand on my shoulder.
"Benji," he whispers in a warning tone mixed with worry.
"I can't just sit here," I whisper to him, "You know that."
Marshal squeezes my shoulder before letting go. My more decisive body moves moments before I decide to.
"Kate," I call, approaching her, "He's had enough."
No response.
Kate doesn't even show any sign she heard me. Not even reacting to her own name. I ignore Mr. Ron growling mine as I'm upon her. Kate doesn't even acknowledge me.
"Hey," I whisper, setting my hand on her shoulder.
I immediately flinch upon contact as I receive a shock.
I quell my pain however as Kate's eyes seem to refocus. She looks a bit confused at first but as her eyes dart around she quickly comes to an understanding, and the color drains from her face.
"No, I didn't no—" Kate mutters to herself in disbelief.
Kate's eyes then fixate on me, and she backs away shaking her head as her eyes well with tears. Before I can console her or even do anything she turns, bolting to the exit.
"W-wait," I shout but she doesn't stop.
Kate makes it out of the gym and almost gets to the stairwell before I catch her wrist.
"Ka—"
"Let go, Benji," Kate says, her voice trembling horribly. Though she's turned away I know she's crying.
"Bu—" I start.
"I'm horrible, Benji…I did something horrible. I don't want you to see me," Kate whispers.
"Kate…" I try, not wanting to let go, " If we talk—"
"There's nothing to say, Benji. I-I can't," Kate cries, escaping my grasp.
My outstretched arm lingers after her. I'm about to make chase when a hand stops me.
"Let her go, Benji."
It's Marshal.
"She needs some space right now."
I grip my fists defiantly but release them exhaling.
"I just want to know why…I just want to help."
Marshal shakes his head as he guides me back.
"I know, but I think it'd be best to let the dust settle first," he says, "We can talk to her tomorrow, right?"
I nod as we return to the gym.
I get pulled aside by Mr. Ron and get an earful about my behavior.
"—Do you understand Mr. Dariff," he asks, letting up on the yelling.
I look up to meet his eyes.
"I do sir, but even you can understand why I did what I did."
Mr. Ron sighs, shaking his head, "Of course, I understand Mr. Dariff. More than you may know, but she made that call. It was her choice. If you want to talk to her about it you're more than welcome, lad, but the time to do that isn't in the middle of a match," he says.
'Her choice.' my mind echos.
Kate's eyes flash to mind. Their fear. Their regret.
'No.'
I just couldn't believe that those decisions were her own…not with that look in her eyes. The scene replays in my mind over and over.
"I understand, sir, I won't interfere with any more matches. I am sorry I caused you trouble truly, but I can't apologize for helping her. I can't believe she wanted to do all of that until I hear the words from her mouth," I tell him.
Mr. Ron places his hand on my head ruffling my hair.
"You're a good kid for believing in the best of her, but remember there's a time and place, okay," he restates, releasing me.
I nod as we head back inside.
I try to squash my worry trying to pay attention to the remaining matches, but I just can't. Every time my eyes wander to Floven's unconscious body. All I can think of is Kate.
Eventually, the matches end and my clubs seem to fly by.
It's dinner time now and I stare absent-mindedly at the stew in front of me. I poke at it, spinning it in a lazy whirlpool. It tasted delicious, but my current mood was making it taste bland. Marshal is eating gleefully trying to entertain me with some stories. I try to look interested, but I know he isn't fooled.
"—Hey are you alright," he asks concerned, "You've hardly touched your stew. Do you not like it?"
I stare at my stew a little longer before answering, "It's delicious. I'm just worried you know."
"Yeah, but you seem to be taking it extra hard," Marshal says half-joking at the end.
I laugh ruefully, "I care about her, and yet I couldn't do anything. I don't even understand why, but that wasn't her," I say.
Marshal nods, putting his hand on my shoulder.
"Well don't tell her I said it, but I care about her too, and if we have to knock some sense into her tomorrow we will. So don't worry."
Though my worry continued to eat at me his brimming confidence helped lift my mood a little.
I smile.
"I don't think we'll have to go that far, but you're right," I tell him, taking a spoonful of my stew. It's delicious as always.
"Tomorrow for sure."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Mepo
Mepo If you lock yourself away from everyone. You may do more harm than good. Imagination can be crueler than any truth, and it only gets worse with endless possibilities.
–Oliver Mepo
P.S I hope you enjoyed ;)
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