Clean

rugby with a side of murder

ﾟ:* ✶ Gibsie ✶ ﾟ:*

January 10, 2005

I was back on the pitch after a winter holiday that consisted of eating shit and drinking until I puked. I wasn't exactly joyful to be running laps or dodging tackles but I was happy to be with my friends.

I watched as Patrick Feely, overthrew a pass, causing my best friend—and partner in crime—Johnny Kavanagh, to practically lose his shit. He tore out his mouth guard and flung it at Patrick before shouting, "See that? It's called hitting the fucking target."

"Sorry, Cap," Feely muttered, "I'll do better."

I could feel the tension radiating off of Johnny. And I could understand why. He'd torn his adductor a few months back and had gotten surgery. He was quite obviously concerned and wound up from that debacle.

I tried to focus my attention back on training, and not my best friend, but that didn't last long because a girl strolled across the pitch.

She looked tiny, and honestly not older than twelve. Half the team began shouting at her, telling her to get off the pitch, but I kept quiet.

"Settle down hotshot," I heard Coach shout, and my eyes trailed back to Johnny who looked smug and then to Ronan McGarry who was laying on the pitch with a bloody nose.

Obviously Johnny's doing.

"This is a team sport," Coach seethed, "Not the Johnny show."

"What's up with him?" Hughie Biggs, one of my other closest friends, jogged over to me.

"I don't know," I shrugged, "Must be back to school stress."

"Fair," Hughie nodded, "But he didn't have to lose it on Feely like that."

"Yeah," I nodded, "Spur of the moment, lad."

"I get it," He agreed.

"Shit!" I heard my teammates gasp.

Looking around, I spotted the girl from earlier, crumpled over with a rugby ball next to her.

My gaze flicked back to Johnny who looked like he'd seen a ghost.

Leave it to my best friend to kick a ball at a girl, less than three hours into the day.

"Shit," Hughie grimaced, "He's definitely just earned a trip to Mr. Twomey's office."

"Most definitely," I agreed, "Hopefully he gets detention and I'm left to get Addy home safely."

"You're still on about that?" Hughie raised his eyebrows.

That being pining over Adeline Kavanagh or Addy for short. She was everything. Not just in looks—which were fucking amazing—but also in personality. She had bright blonde hair to match her sunny personality and she had amazing banter. I mean, seriously, she was the only person that could keep up with my shit.

Not to mention that she was a ballerina, and a really good one at that. She was talented, smart, hilarious and breathtakingly beautiful.