Soccer And Silver

Life

Chapter Sixteen: Life

M A X

I was positively fed up.

With school. With the ridiculous rivalries. With the social restrictions imposed on me. I was done – done with all this preposterous nonsense that has haunted me all through high school. This stupid opposition of the 'rebels' and the 'jocks'. The cool kids and the bad ones. What did it matter how you dressed? How you lived? Where you lived? What dumbass sport you played?

It was how you acted.

But apparently, everyone at school is too shallow and self-centered to see what's really important. What matters most.

"You good there?" Zahra calls from next to me, her thick eyebrows drawn in concern.

I nod. "Yup. Just having a midlife crisis."

She squeezes my hand in understanding, and we jump out of my car. After everything that went down tonight, I'm thankful my best friend chose to stand by my side. Despite knowing I like her brother's arch-rival. Despite the fight that broke out on the field earlier tonight. After the referee broke apart Argent and Anas, as well as the other boys who'd gotten tangled up in the mess, the Thornfalls team called it a night.

They'd left and we hung our heads in shame.

"Sure you wanna do this?" Zahra asks again.

I let out a heavy breath, bracing myself. I lock my car, the sound of the alarm ringing like the warning bells in my head, one last deterrent to stop is from doing something stupid. I ignore it. I throw caution to the wind. And then I'm stepping forward, elbow linked with Zahra towards the house.

Not just any house. Oscar Woods' house. And a Thornfalls party.

Music blares from inside, some pop song I've heard a thousand times before, lyrics blurring together. Ariana Grande or Olivia Rodrigo maybe. Red solo cups are strewn about on the lawn, and people are chattering and drinking outside. A couple of students are already wasted, puking their guts out on bushes or simply passing out on the grass.

The sky is dark, and shadows follow Zahra and me to the porch. The front door is cracked open, and we head inside undetected. Two thieves in the night. We're not invited to parties like this, hosted by our rivals. But I couldn't care less. Not now. Not ever again. Which was why I suggested to Zahra we come out here tonight. Show that we don't give a fuck.

The entryway is crowded as we walk inside, kids dancing in the neon lights to loud music. Glistening drinks slosh from cups, bodies move around us, laughing and swaying. I can't make out any familiar faces, just bobbing heads in a sea of teenagers enjoying the night. This party looks just like anything we would throw. The kids behaving the same way we would.

No one recognises me or Zahra as we head through the living room, further into the house. We aren't all that different from each other. So why do we create these walls? This separation, segregation by status, wealth, colour. For what purpose? We listen to the same music. Dance the same and drink the same. I look at Zahra and she raises her eyebrows.

"Let's go get drinks," I lean close so she can hear me.

"Okay," she agrees. We make our way to the kitchen, where it's quieter. There are bottles of drinks in cooler boxes and on the marble countertop, open boxes of pizza, paler cups, and plates. a help-yourself sort of situation. I pour myself some whiskey and Zahra snags a slice of Pepperoni Pizza. I lean against the table, taking in the atmosphere.

"What are they even celebrating?" Zahra runs her eyes over a group of boys smoking in one corner. I know that glint in her eyes. She thinks one of them are cute.