Josh's POV
* This chapter may include some VERY mild language. Nothing that I've never written before, but I want to give you fair warning. Sorry. *
I slam my helmet into my locker and rip all the gear on me off.
Spitting my mouth guard into it's container, I slip off my jersey and put on regular clothes. I feel the sweat on my back soak into the clean, maroon shirt. I don't dare.
I kick my locker door shut hard, swipe angrily at the sweat on my forehead and storm out of the locker room.
I'm just so pissed that I let that little slut get to me. I ruined it all for my team. My dads going to kill me.
I sling my bag over my shoulder and hop into the car.
Taking a gulp of Gatorade out of my water bottle, I look down at the floor. I can't look my father in the eye. I screwed up big time out there. I let a stupid girl get I the way if water I really want and I don't like that feeling. I hate the she was there, and I hate that she distracted me. But mostly I hate that I even care.
I feel my stomach growl, but ignore it. I have an energy bar in my bag, but I couldn't eat right now. I don't deserve to. I killed this opportunity for my team.
I don't care if I'm being dramatic. I really hate to lose.
When we get home, I slam the front door open, and let it slam closer behind me. I charge through the living room and up the stairs. My sisters and mother know by the look on my face that I lost. They know not to bother me when I get like this.
Slamming my bedroom door shut, I throw myself down onto my bed, staring at the sports posters on my walls. I bet they never screwed up such an important game over a girl.
Over and over in my head, my mind replays what I could've done better.
I can hear my family talking about me through the wall. They're not follow anyone.
My stomach growls. I take out the energy bar, and unwrap the corner. I sigh and take a bite.
Even though I don't deserve to, a boy's got to eat like a boy's got to breathe.
I slide the unlock button on my phone.
I open up my texts.
I scroll down to Maddie.
My fingers fly across the keyboard. "I hate you."
I wrote.
