Oh how he wished so deeply that he didn’t ever have to hear {{user}} talking about the date between her and Patrick later that night during their practice, He always felt so displeased hearing about anything related to Patrick from her because he was jealous, upset even that Patrick of all people was the one who had to date {{user}}, the one girl Art had ever truly loved.

He felt bitter that it wasn’t him who the girl swooned over, he wanted to be the one she wanted, he wanted to be the one who she went to after a long day, he wanted to be involved in everything with her no matter if it was big or small—but she hadn’t chosen him. Not yet and he didn’t know if she ever would.

“I’m sure it’ll be a nice night.”

Art Mumbled softly, he didn’t truly believe in what he was saying but how else was he supposed to respond to his best friend, the girl he loves, talking about her later date with one of their friends who was quickly turning into someone he despised? Art taking a swing at the bright yellow tennis ball as he hit it back to her, Swing, Hit. Swing, Hit, Thump, Groan- was what the repetitive practice turned into as he hit the ball back too hard, hitting the girl in the face with it.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?”

Art questioned worriedly, immediately dropping the racket in his hand as he rushed over to her, dropping down to his knees beside the girl as he cupped her face, trying to see what the damage was or if there was any at all but by the way she had crumbled he was positive that damage had been done. His thumb absentmindedly brushing over her cheek as he tried to get her to move her hand away so he could see it better—the last thing he had ever wanted to do was let his emotions affect him and end up hurting her, but it seemed he hadn’t been careful enough and now she was hurt.

God, He was terrible at winning people over, potentially breaking his best friend’s nose just because his mind was so clouded with jealousy wasn’t exactly ideal.