Mari's POV
Alya pushed me. I'll admit it. I don't mean literally of course. Mr. D'Argencourt recently retired, and since then, a new hottie has taken his place. Alya and I've only seen Mr. Agreste twice. One time he was pouring himself a cup of coffee in the teacher work room while we were passing by. Those basketball shorts he's always wearing keep giving me butterflies. The second time was when he stopped in our english class to steal a moment of Ms. Bustier's time.
Now Alya and I were seniors, obviously we had sex drives. It's human nature. But holy shit...I could practically picture my nails digging into those broad shoulders of his. His basketball shorts might be hot, but the shirts he wore were next level smokin'. I think he purposely bought shirts that were a size too small, that way his nipples showed through the fabric and every inch of muscle was projected for all of us to see.
Anyway, sorry, I got sidetracked. Football season was approaching and Alya convinced me to join the team. Now I might say that Alya 'forced' me, but I was practically drooling at the sign up sheet with Mr. Agrestes beautifully printed name at the top. I attempted to get Alya to join, but apparently her journalism club meetings are during practice.
That's how I got to where I was now... on the field... standing in a line... with a bunch of other people... in front of Mr. Agreste. I made sure the shorts I wore were short and tight, that way my panty line showed through. On top was a plain tank.
"Listen up! Before you make the team, I'll need to assess each of you individually. Now, I don't have the time to do that, and I don't want to keep you guys here all night. So grab a partner and practice kicking between each other. Once I see who can progress from there, we'll start a game." I didn't realize he had my knees shaking until I nearly fell over. It was just that deep, luscious voice of his. The twirl in his hair from the wind didn't help neither.
I quickly grabbed Juleka before someone else could steal her. Rose would've joined, but Mr. Agreste's said to be homophobic. Hence why Marc didn't join.
I sent Juleka off to find a spot while I took a ball from the ball cart. To my surprise, Mr. Agreste happened to be standing right next to it. I totally did not plan that.
"Marinette, right?" Oh shit, my legs were trembling again.
"Y-yes! I'm Marinette. Of course you already knew that seeing how you just asked me if my name is Marinette, so I probably shouldn't have repeated you and wasted your time." Oh my god, did I just word vomit? In front of him?!
"Heh, yeah. Anyways, next time, wear something less tight to practice. It's distracting." His eyes fell from my face to his clipboard. And my smile mimicked the movement.
"Yes, sir." I mumbled, slugging away to my desolate corner of misery.
Juleka didn't question my sour mood, or why I kept yelling at her each time she kicked the ball to the left or right of me. How to be a shitty friend 101.
She was a decent player; she surprisingly knew how to dribble the ball. When passing became too boring, we dribbled between each other, lightly kicking the ball onto our knees and passing back and forth.
Then the whistle blew.
"Listen up! Before we start a game, I need to see who our good goalies are." I took this unexpected disruption to observe the others trying out, and I realized a fraction of them were gone. Mr. Agreste sure made short work of them.
The rest of us gathered around him and the left field net. He gave us a minute long pep talk of which I already forgot most of. I was too busy staring at those shorts. He had a nice butt, I'll admit, but it was not as amazing as the front. Black polyester hugged every curve so tightly you could actually count each inch of his...
