Clayton rolled over in bed at the sound of his alarm, his arm quickly stretched from the bundle beneath the blankets to silence the rude awakening. The flashing red numbers declared it was now 6:45 in a tone that seemed far too cheery for such a dreary awakening. His dream was just ruined by the very mechanism after all.
Though it was half-fleeting he could distinctly remember the fading sensation of being warm, snug, and sweating heavily in the embrace of a lover. Could almost still even smell the rich aroma of the dreamland high many people his age get to back, and often, one that seems to elude men more and more with every year that passes. Not that he had to worry about that yet, at 18 he was still only beginning to approach the decisions that determined what kind of man he was to be. Nonetheless, it seemed a very sleepy start to becoming that man.
He knew subconsciously that the bus would be at the end of his city block in 35 minutes, but that still wasn't enough to prevent him from pulling the covers over his head once more and attempting to chase that fleeting dream back down the rabbit hole of the human mind. He snapped back 18 minutes later with a jolt, glancing towards the alarm with a fresh sensation of panic, Knocking the rust from his gears so to speak and jolting upright in his bead before leaping towards his dresser to throw on some clothes.
He managed to find some jeans and a T-shirt that seemed clean quickly enough, though, The search for his misplaced tennis shoes stole another 2 minutes from his already delayed start. By the time he had managed to get his outfit thrown on in a half daze, the alarm clock happily informed him it was now 7:16, 19 minutes before he would have a very long walk to school, should he fail to make that deadline.
"I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date..." he grumbled to himself shouldering his backpack and shooting out the door of his room and down the small trailer hall to where the living room gave way to the compact kitchen area. His panic spiked a bit at seeing his father sitting at the table with his never-empty case of PBR watching the news half-heartedly. He was usually asleep at this hour, still passed out from the alcohol he consumes at all hours of the day, but it seemed a badly timed hangover had disrupted that cycle today.
His father glanced his direction, his eyes cut up and then down the 5ft 10' scrawny frame that had only just stumbled out of the hallway for a moment and then glanced back to his television seemingly unfazed. He rarely acknowledged Clayton anymore. Not since his wife passed 6 years before, besides, he didn't really want to see the face that reminded him so much of all he lost. Instead, he simply took another swig from his can and resumed his morning news.
Clayton just averted his eyes and bee lined to the fridge in hopes of some breakfast before he left, but was quickly disappointed at the sparse selection the appliance offered and simply closed the door before turning back towards the living room and out the front door.
The smoggy morning city air made the clothes he was wearing stick to his skin shortly after emerging from his door. The sun shone unapologetically in his dark brown eyes and illuminated the lighter hairs of his dirty blonde fauxhawk, with the stale gel from the day before still doing a pretty decent job of holding its shape. He glanced at his cracked phone screen and saw it was now 7:29, it seemed he would at least make the bus on time after all, he adjusted the backpack on his small shoulders a bit and set out down the street.
"At least it's Thursday... just one more day to go before Spring break starts," he said more to himself than to anyone else as he approached his stop... Not that he actually had any plans. He heard the hissing of air brakes right around the corner and recognized it as the sound of his ride, It would be there before another minute passed.
Something clicked and brought his still groggy mind sharply to the English assignment he had stayed up finishing late into the night before, and he cursed as he realized it was left abandoned on his small makeshift desk instead of being in his backpack. He looked left and saw the bus approaching from down the street, He knew he'd never have the time to make it home and back without missing it and guaranteeing a 25 minute walk for him, but Ms. Skipper was a T-Total bitch about accepting late work, and he couldn't afford to fail English...
So with another curse he turned and ran back home, abandoning the ride and earning himself an unwanted morning run to school as well as a tardy slip for being 15 minutes late to first period... Gym class.
After checking in at the office with a disapproving look from the clerk, Clayton made his way to the large gymnasium, he always hated that his senior year had stuck him with Gym first thing in the morning, but there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it.
Pushing through the metal door, he walked into the gym apparently during the morning laps around the court inside, roughly 40 other students panting heavily, some visibly struggling, were running in large rectangles marked by the basketball goals. He himself wasn't the most physically fit guy in school, but he was far from being one of the laboriously breathing adolescents struggling to keep their legs moving.
The sound of the hollow door slamming shut behind him snapped him back to the moment. It also made a few other faces turn towards him, one being his best friend Axel who shot him a "Coach Dunc is gonna kill you for being tardy Clay," look before his gazed moved on to meet the very subject for said pity.
Coach Rusty Duncan. 6ft 3, mid to late thirties, dark brown buzz cut with the ex Marine build to top it all off. The guy wasn't insanely buff like some bodybuilders you see on TV but was covered with more than enough thick muscle to make someone think twice before messing with the guy. It was almost strange to Clay how such a giant man could seem so simultaneously stocky. His beard seemed to be perpetually 5 o clock shadow, a few random flecks of gray accenting his maturity.
Whenever Clayton looked at his coach, he always felt intimidated, like he was only some helpless woodland creature staring up wide-eyed and terrified up at the presence of a predatory wolf who just happened upon his midday snack. It seemed today the wolf was definitely in a mood to chew some ass...
"Knotter!", Coach Dunc called to Clayton above the slightly sad sound of sneakers shuffling on the gym floor, "I'm not sure who misinformed you that being tardy was acceptable in my class, but it's the third time the past 2 weeks. I already warned you the last time what the consequences would be." He finished of with a smirk so small it was almost unnoticed.
"Yeah, sorry Coach... I missed the bu..." Clay started but was cut off when coach held up a hand. "No excuses Knotter! Those laps ain't running themselves!" He spoke loud and clearly and despite still being sore from his run to school today, Clayton just hung his head and joined in the March of circles. Axel adjusted his pace until he was moving along right beside Clayton.
"You could've thought of a better excuse than you missed the bus, man," He said to his tardy friend with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
"And your mom could've swallowed you yet here we are," Clay joked back. He managed to make his friend smile a bit at least so that was always good. He loved seeing that beautiful smile cross that strikingly handsome face. Clay not only envied his friends good looks, from his dark creamy skin to his height of 6ft 1' the sight of him smiling always made some kind of bubbles fire up in his gut. Clay had admittedly dreamed about that smile multiple times, but in high-school he was far from wanting anyone to know that, least of all his best friend. So he simply smiled back, And they continued small talk until the exercises shifted and finally ended with a clumsy game of dodgeball before heading back to the locker room.
He wasn't sure why, but Clay always loved the sweaty smell of the locker room. The pungent scent of drying sweat, firing hormones, and the unmistakable scent of other men after physically demanding physical exercise. It made something dark stir inside him he wanted nothing more than to smother. Those thoughts were also quickly smothered when he noticed Coach Duncan standing firm only inches behind him, his arms crossed over his wide chest almost proudly. He turned, shirtless and half changed, and looked upwards at the tower of a man and waited for the judgment to be rendered. He saw Axel offer a gloom smile before he closed his locker and left him to his fate.
"So you were tardy AGAIN today... I assume you were hoping I'd forgotten? Coach said in his low startling voice that made Clay's knees just a bit weaker. He hated being confronted like this.
"I- I'm sorry Coach, I forgot my English assignment at home and had to run back to get it and I mis-" he started but was quickly cut off by the older man "I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T WANT TO HEAR YOUR EXCUSES KNOTTER!" He bellowed. "Your irresponsibility isn't my concern, what is my concern is you thinking you can skip out on my class and miss out on your physical education and try to justify it with your own recklessness." He finished. It seemed he wasn't going to get off easily after all...
"Any big plans for spring break?" Coach asked coyly a moment later, almost derailing Clay's thoughts before he answered quickly, "Nothing really, just catch up on some of that sleep that seems to keep making me late..." Clay offered a sheepish smile up at the man as he finished that sentence. His jokes were definitely a coping mechanism for stress, but it didn't appear Coach was in the mood for jokes.
"Sounds nice, too bad you'll be helping me straighten up this gymnasium and weight room Saturday instead." Coach retorted almost effortlessly.
"But-" Clay began but was again cut off by a "No buts, except your butt here Saturday morning at 8 am sharp for cleanup Knotter." From Coach. He continued on, "I don't know if you realize this but you've been tardy to my class 16 times now. Legally, I can fail you and I will, unless I see you on Saturday. End. Of. Discussion."
Clay sighed and dropped his head to the floor. He was defeated and felt rather pissed about losing some of his Spring break, but he didn't think he'd be able to coax the man to change his mind, so he simply accepted his fate with a "Yes Sir." Coach dropped his arms from their position, nodded with a quick motion and what seemed like a victorious smirk, and turned and walked back to his office. The smirk couldn't help but make Clay think back to his previous thought of a hunter and it's prey, and he shivered a bit at the thought. "There goes the weekend," he mumbled to himself before turning to put his shirt back on, slamming the locker shut in frustration.