deep blue eyes // Antoine Griezmann

Chapter 5 - Done

On Saturday afternoon, I walk to the park with my basketball to shoot hoops. On the court at the park, I see some boys from my school. Unfortunately, though, none of them are Griezmann.

I walk up to the hoop, not even glancing at the boys, and shoot a free throw, making it easily.

One of them, who's voice I recognize as Giroud, one of Griezmann's friends, without even looking at him, says, "Are you that girl Antoine has to do the Health project with?"

I catch my basketball right away and look over at him quickly. He's a lot taller than me, and I feel awkward talking with him. I know close to nothing about him, other than that he's Griezmann's friend. "Yeah, why? Did he talk about me?"

"Nah..." he says slowly, looking me up and down. I feel slightly uncomfortable. "Not really. But I know that you talked about him."

My eyebrows furrow. What? I have made a point ever since I started to like him about eight or nine months ago last school year not to talk about him. So what is Giroud talking about? "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about. What did I say about Griezmann?"

"You know."

"No, I really don't?" I cross my arms over my chest, staring up at him. "So, what is it? What did he say I said about him?"

"He said nothing about you. Well, not much, anyway. Nothing of importance." For some reason, even though I know this to be true, disappoints me.

"Then what do you think I said about him, and why? Because I swear on my dad's life, I never gossiped or anything about or friend. I'm not into gossip. And why would I be stupid enough to gossip about Griezmann, when I know how strong he and his friends are?"

Suddenly he grins, and roughly grabs my shoulders. I try to push him off, but obviously, I don't succeed.

"What do you want?" I demand.

"You just admitted he's strong. So it is true!"

"What?!" I ask wildly, seeing nothing but Giroud's ugly face and the sun high in the sky. "What on earth are you talking about?! Let go of my shoulders!"

He relaxes his grip, but still doesn't let go, studying my face closely.

"What?" I demand again. "Please, let me go."

He does so, slowly, then says. "So you don't know about it, then?"

"Know about what?"

"Look on Baylee Turner's story, if you have her Snapchat."

I look at him, confused. Baylee Turner is one of Rachel's friends. I hardly know her, and honestly, I've only met her once. She's one of those pretty girls who are on the cheer team and good at everything, but she's never done anything rude to me, so I've never really had much of an opinion on her. But yes, I think I have her Snapchat.

I pull out my phone and look at her story, and I freeze. I practically drop my phone. Apparently, Giroud sees the look of anxiety slowly sink into my face.

"So that's wrong?" he asks.

"O- Of course it's wrong!" I can hardly believe my eyes.

On Turner's story is the announcement that 'Guys, my friend Rachel has a friend, Sage Prefect, who told her she's have some affairs. Some affairs with the star forward on our school team, Antoine Griezmann.'

I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. "Did you talk to Griezmann about this?" I ask him.

"I tried calling him and texting him, but he didn't respond either. You know, Prefect, word spreads quickly."