Reverse Rivalry

Keep Your Enemies Closer

Skylar kept one quote that he's heard in his 18 years of life dear. He lived by it. He breathed by it, "keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer,"

Skylar Lain would wake up every day with one thing on his mind. How to royally fuck with Jale Kierson until his fist was the only thing he could think with. It gave him a high, a euphoric thrill that convulsed his mind. It was one thing to steer up trouble but another for the target to respond.

Today was no exception. Football practice was mandatory even when Jale was on suspension. He had to show up to the field after school at 3 pm every weekday but he was late.

Skylar stood in the locker room with the rest of the team. They were chatting, changing their clothes, doing what boys do while Skylar had Jale's uniform in his hands. Nobody noticed, hell, nobody cared.

Skylar twirled the marker in his right hand wondering what to write. What would really piss Jale Kierson off other than writing on his sacred football uniform?

Sister fucker? No. Childish.

Manwhore? No. Overused.

Skylar lifted the uniform in his hands to sniff. It smelled of fabric softener and the washing machine but a hint of Jale's scent was definitely stuck in there. A masculine musky allure. Skylar grinned.

Cocksucker? Nothing works best than insinuating a man loves to suck a cock, especially with Jale's mindset.

"Put my fucking uniform down," Jale's voice rang out deeply from behind Skylar. Skylar's back tensed and the marker in his hands stopped in mid-air. Jale was right behind him like a looming beast. Skylar could feel the glare penetrating his back.

"That's no way to talk to your captain Kierson and you're fucking late,"

Skylar turned with the uniform in his hand. His smug expression brightening at the sheer hostility aimed his way. Yes, just like that. He should hate me just like that. 

"That ain't got nothing to do with my Jacket,"

Skylar smirked then lifted the jacket in his hands. He pinched it letting it hang in Jale's face.

"Your jacket reeks of a sore loser, a wailing pig, a man who lost his crown," Skylar smirked stepping closer to Jale while crumbling the uniform in his hands like it was a piece of paper.

"I was just gonna wash it for you,"

Jale took a sharp intake of breath. Skylar could see it, the reigned in anger from the tightly clenched fist by his side. A slight shiver went down Skylar's spine. Jale lifted his hands and preyed the jacket out of Skylar's and took a step back bumping into the bench chair behind him.

"Thanks but I don't need the smell of a bitch added to it," 

"Don't worry, it's already in there," Skylar replied settling his body into a relaxed stance on the locker behind him. He could do it all day, he could mess with Jale Kierson's brain all day.

Jale's shoulders drew up but nothing else happened. Skylar expected the boy to slam him into the locker and teach him a lesson but no, he walked away. Jale Kierson turned and went to his locker at the far end of the room. Skylar watched every step he took without the smug expression on his face slipping.

***

A sharp shrill sound of a whistle blasted through the atmosphere of the football field

"Alright, boys! Ain't the time to be wiping your asses, today, we go all out!" Mr Walter bellowed. The football field was filled with hormonal teenage boys forced into tight white and blue uniforms and thick helmets. They all stood in position. They were split into two teams, the away team and the home team. They were tasked to win and only win no matter who was on either side.