deep blue eyes // Antoine Griezmann

Chapter 21 - Out With Him

For the next weeks, things are very good. The boys have continued to let me sit with them at lunch, and things have been very good with Griezmann.

I've kind of left my old friends, Rachel, Elizabeth, and Tori, because believe it or not, I honestly feel like I relate with the boys much better. My stupid sense of humor is similar, we all are into sports, and things are a lot more casual with them. There is, overall, less drama. And even when there is drama, it's talked about or pulled off as casual, and it usually doesn't cause a lot of issues. If someone has hard feelings, they just seem to say so, and it's sorted out quite easily, which I actually really appreciate.

On this particular Friday, on the thirteenth of January, I'm sitting with Neymar left diagonal to me, Mbappe across from me, Messi diagonal right to me, Griezmann next to me on my left, and Giroud next to me on my right.

Neymar leans over the table towards all five of us, saying, "Griezmann, Giroud, Prefect, Messi, and Mbappe, listen, okay? I'm going bowling tomorrow, and I was wondering if you guys wanted to come."

"All of us?" Mbappe asks. "Why specifically us?"

He grins and simply says, "Because you guys are the best. So, you in?" He's such a simple man.

"Is this the sort of thing that you, being the rich friend, would pay for?" I ask, grinning over the table.

"Nah, you guys are all rich enough to pay for your own fricking bowling," he shrugs.

"Yeah, Prefect, Neymar isn't the rich friend, you're just the poor friend," Mbappe teases, but I think we all know full-well that he is completely right. I'm actually not that poor, but compared to them, I certainly am. And my guess is that he's thinking of the really nice bowling alley way in the rich parts of town. I've never been to it, because it's way too expensive, but I've heard people talk about how fun it is. And I certainly couldn't afford going to that place.

"Sage, do you really think you couldn't pay for it?" Griezmann asks. It's not in a rude way, just in a wondering way.

"No, I don't think I could at all. And you know how my parents are. They hate that I'm friends with a bunch of strong football guys now. They would not pitch in for me to go bowling with you guys. But that's okay, I don't have to g-"

"Shut up, Sage," Griezmann interrupts with a grin. "I'll pay for you, just relax."

"You sure?"

"Positive," he grins.

I nod, and we share a little look. "Thanks."

"I can pick you up, too, since you don't have your license yet," he says teasingly.

I grin a bit wider. "Thanks, Antoine."

I watch as Mbappe mutters something to Neymar and Messi. I can't hear what he says, but Messi nods, seeming to consider what he says, with a knowing smile on his face, and Neymar laughs out loud, saying, "Yeah, yeah."

Neither me or Griezmann even try to ask about it, because this seems to happen a lot whenever either of us are nice to each other. It's pretty clear that they ship us, or something.

And I mean, hey. I don't mind it. I ship us, too.

The next morning I'm ready by 9:00 a.m., when he said he'd come, with my high-waisted blue jeans, green tank top, sweater, and purse.

He arrives at 9:10- so different from Rachel, who used to pick me up and who was always right on time, right on the mark. But I don't mind. I don't think I mind really anything Griezmann does, though. It's pretty hard for him to annoy me. It'd take a lot of effort on his part.