Unlucky: Luxury And a Lies

Chapter 3: da GOAT 2 POV's: It's All Because of That Stupid Party

"You said 'escape,'? shit, she'll definitely leave you now," Perez snorted, his voice filled with skepticism and amusement. I elbowed him lightly, trying to hide my nervousness. "It was the spur of the moment," I muttered defensively, "besides, she just laughed it off, thought I was joking."

The sun beamed down on the school grounds as I found myself wandering with my friend Perez. Danielle was elsewhere, and our bond was changing, making it imperative that I have some time away from her. Today, we were taking leisurely laps around the school during our lunch break. As we passed the open doors to the bustling cafeteria, I kept a watchful eye out for Danielle, but she wasn't in sight right away.

Perez, always one to push boundaries, suddenly took my hand and dragged me inside the cafeteria. I protested softly, mumbling under my breath, but he tugged me forward, asserting that he had 'people to please.' I knew he meant some members of the football team, not exactly the crowd I was keen to hang out with.

Approaching the rowdy group of footballers, I internally groaned. They greeted us with nods and smirks. Perez took a seat with his teammates, and I reluctantly sat beside him. I glanced around, searching for any sign of Danielle.

Turning back to the guys, I couldn't resist a sarcastic remark. "So, what about you, Kim? You coming to the party?" James, the charismatic leader of the team, asked with a grin. I shrugged, my skepticism clear. "Depends, will it be as shit as the last one?" I shot back, earning a round of laughter from the boys. James's parties were notorious for their chaos, often attracting more dropouts than actual students from our prestigious school. They almost always ended with the police arriving to break up their antics.

Jack, James's twin brother and the more reasonable of the two, chimed in. "If we win this game, promise you'll come." I nodded, knowing that jack's parties were usually more controlled and enjoyable. Perez nudged me discreetly and gestured behind me. I turned to look and spotted Danielle walking away. A sly smirk formed on my lips as I excused myself, determined to follow her and escape the world of footballers and chaos for a while and start some chaos of my own.

I followed Danielle, and when she noticed me trailing behind, she gave me a playful smirk and stopped. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," I replied, my tone slightly uncertain. "About yesterday," I began, my nerves causing me to stumble over my words.

Danielle smiled, her eyes holding a warmth that put me at ease. "Yeah?" she asked, encouraging me to continue.

"You're not mad, are you?" I questioned, my voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, you can hang out with whoever you want." I tried to sound nonchalant, but the underlying concern was evident.

Her smile widened, and she leaned against a nearby locker. "No, I'm not mad," she assured me. "It's just that my parents are being assholes. I'm grounded because they made me do a drug test."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "No shit," I exclaimed, taken aback by the unexpected revelation.

She nodded, kicking her feet into a cross. Her pout was endearing, and I couldn't help but sympathize. "It's all because of that stupid party," she sighed, her words tinged with frustration.

I sighed in agreement, even though I knew that the party was partly her fault. "Yeah," I mumbled, aware that the bell had just rung, signaling the end of our brief conversation. The timing was, once again, not in our favor.

-

I watched Minji as she prepared to leave, always in her own world, blissfully unaware of the attention she drew. "Yes, ma, I'll be home soon," I said into my phone, "No, not right now I have practice," I then chuckled "Con los idiotas, sí." (with the idiots, yes.). I hung up the phone, shaking my head with a half-smile.

"Well, I'll be off," Minji announced, ready to head out. I nodded in response as she walked away, her presence leaving an indelible mark even when she wasn't around. After she left, I sighed and reluctantly made my way back to school, resigned to endure another hour here.

Inside the changing rooms, the atmosphere was a mix of sweat and anticipation. The smell of old leather and dirty socks lingered in the air. I began to change, my mind drifting to James, James Wilder. That guy was something else, an asshole actually, thinking he could leave me high and dry at that party. After Minji abandoned me, he started talking nonsense, clearly too intoxicated to think straight. I had to take him upstairs to sober him up, but there, he made a move, trying to kiss me, and, well, I let him. What an idiot. I couldn't help but wonder if he even remembered that moment.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I continued getting dressed, tying up my shoes and headed outside to the field. The view from there was always breathtaking, a sense of freedom and exhilaration in every step I took.

As everyone gathered outside, Stephen found his way to me. He looked like he'd been through a war, hungover and disheveled. He rested his head on my shoulder, and I couldn't help but chuckle at his sorry state.

"I'm so hungover," he muttered.

I grinned, my eyes on the vast expanse of the sky above. "Look at the sky, my man. I'm already starting to feel sober," I said.

Stephen reluctantly followed my gaze. He blinked then said "I don't feel shit, liar," he mumbled.

I smirked and ruffled his hair. The coach's voice rang out, gaining our attention. It was time to get serious. We had a game coming up this Friday against Crestwood Heights, and it was more than just a match. It was a battle against a bunch of arrogant assholes, and we were determined to show them what we were made of.

A ball was kicked my way, and I went into action. Practice commenced, and Stephen and I worked together like a well-oiled machine. We scored a few goals, and Stephen, my wingman and the true GOAT (Greatest of All Time), was there with me every step of the way. He took notes on our opponents' strategies and analyzed the game, making sure we were well-prepared for the upcoming match. We were a formidable team, and I had no doubt that we had what it took to defeat Crestwood Heights.

The sun was beginning to set as we continued with our practice. "Perez!" someone called out my name, and the ball came hurtling towards me. I positioned myself the way I usually did, swift and agile, and took control of the ball. With a fluid motion, I made a powerful kick, and the ball sailed into the goal. Wilder fumbled, unable to stop the shot, and the ball hit the back of the net. He let out a sigh, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his shirt. I averted my gaze, not wanting to rub my victory in his face.

As practice came to an end, the sun was casting a warm, golden hue over the field, and the whole team gathered in the changing rooms. I turned to Stephen and asked, "You're not gonna shower?"

He snorted. "Nah, man. My mom always said never to trust school water."

I shrugged and nodded. Our hands clasped together as we said our goodbyes, and he left.

I undressed and walked toward the showers. As I was about to step in, I saw him – James Wilder. He seemed to be getting ready to do the same thing. I pursed my lips and went into a nearby cubicle. I started to shower, feeling the warm water cascade over me. I made sure not to wet my dreads, which were still tied up, maintaining their neatness.

Suddenly, the water stopped, and I heard a frustrated voice. "Fuck," it sounded . I furrowed my brows, twisting the knob to try and get the water flowing again.

"It's no use. The water's out," James said. I couldn't help but groan in annoyance. Just great.