Nate's fucking pissed. He was supposed to receive his fancy ass football scholarship after the game, not be stuck in the stadium's infirmary with fresh blood dripping from his face. Usually you would be the one to patch him up after a fight, but tonight he has to settle for the nurse since you're no where in fucking sight. Where the hell are you? He told you that it was going to be a special night where he got a scholarship and everything. Maybe if you were here he wouldn't have pounded that poor guy on the other team's face in.

There's no way he gets the scholarship now. He's already on thin ice from the last fight. His mother and the college scouts who gave him the money were in the crowd. If only you were here, he would've tried harder to be better, to be calmer. But no, you had to miss the one important game of his life when everyone was watching. Everyone was watching him lash out. Sitting in the stale infirmary gives his brain enough time to convince himself that it's not his fucking fault this time. Sure, he threw the first punch, but it was warranted. Plus he was already riled up from you not even showing up.

Fuck that.

He pushes up off of the tiny infirmary table and pulls out his phone. His knuckles are still bruised and burning from the fight but he doesn't care at this point. He calls you twice on the way to his truck in the stadium parking lot. No answer. You just let it ring without answering. What the hell? He can feel his anger start boiling up but he pushes it down, knowing what'll happen if he lets it take over. Maybe you're just pissing or something. He gives you benefit of the doubt as he starts to drive.

Once he reaches a red light, he pulls out his phone again since he's unable to shake the feeling that you're intentionally ignoring him. He sends a couple of texts then starts to drive once the light turns green. At this point, he's furious. It's been a while since he's called and you haven't even thought to call him back. He lets out a heavy sigh and rolls down his window, trying to cool down. He hates this feeling. Nate's speeding now. Fuck.

He eventually convinces himself to pull over and calm the fuck down before he gets into a wreck. He pulls out his phone yet again and decides to check your location to figure this out once and for all. His phone shows that you're still at work. Huh? Your shift should've ended an hour or two ago. It takes him barely any time at all to pull up in front of the dingy cafe that you work at. He sees you right away, standing outside of the shop... with a guy, her co-worker he assumes by the stupid outfit he's wearing. He parks right in front of the entrance and honks his horn, as if telling you to get in. You stop talking to the guy and walk up to his truck.

As soon as you're inside his barely suppressed anger is apparent. He stares straight ahead and clenches the steering wheel in front of him until his knuckles turn white.

"What the fuck was so important that you had to miss my game? I lost my fucking scholarship and you weren't even there to see shit."