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Noah's depressed attitude followed us throughout the day and seemed to worsen every time someone came up to talk about our wins this past weekend. His voice became monotonous and his sighs made the atmosphere around him uncomfortable.

I waited until we sat at our bench for lunch, before saying something. ”Why are do you sound so dissatisfied when talking about the win this past weekend?”

Noah looked startled, almost as if he was surprised I would start a conversation by myself. Then he did another sigh, ”I'm just a little disappointed that everyone is talking about my brothers and not me. None of them made varsity as a freshman so shouldn't I be the one they talk about?” He ran his fingers through his hair. ”I'm just used to being the best on my team. It sucks to lose the spotlight.”

I shrugged, not sure what to say. We both pulled out our lunches and started to eat in silence. After sitting around, I came to realize something: I stole some of the attention he was looking for. I put my carrot sticks down and looked across the bench at Noah, my best friend, my only friend. ”I'm sorry.”

Noah looked up, startled. ”What? Why? What happened?”

I shifted uncomfortably. ”I'm sorry I stole your attention.”

Noah raised his eyebrows. ”What. You're not making sense.” Then it dawned on him. ”You think I'm mad that you're more in the limelight than I am?” I nodded. ”You think you're stealing the attention that I want?” I nodded again. He started to laugh like normal Noah. ”Jake, I'm not upset with you at all. Don't apologize to me like that ever again.”

I tilted my head. ”Are you mad at your brothers then?”

Noah laughed a little more. ”No, no, no. Well, normally, yes. But no, I'm not mad at them for this. It's more like I'm mad at my circumstances. Like if I was born just a few years earlier, than they would be the ones being compared to me instead of me to them.” He thought to himself. ”Hmmm. It's like I'm an artist. A painter. People come up to compliment my friend, who is also an artist, but sculpts instead. I'm not mad at him for being a great artist. I'm mad that these people won't compliment my own work first. Why would you tell a painter, that his friends sculptures are really good?”

...

I stared at him blankly. Was that supposed to be an analogy? If so, it was poorly executed. Analogies are supposed to have some relation, right? The only similar component I could recognize is that, the painter isn't getting complimented on his work. So Noah just wants people to compliment him? Hmm. That makes sense. It's weird to get compliments for your brothers, since it's not like you trained them or anything.

”I think your fielding is the best on the team.” I told him. If all he's looking for, is compliments on his game, then I could give it to him. I was present. I saw every grab, snatch, dive, and throw, he did.