In My Arms

Chapter Two

Hughes Solace

Wow, this girl is absolutely breathtaking. Her round green eyes, framed by the warm brown around her pupils, are mesmerizing. She has a sharp jawline, full lips that curve just right, and a cute button nose. Every little detail adds to her beauty. It's adorable how she looks up at me with that curious expression. But what am I thinking? I don't have time for distractions, girls, I have training and games to focus on. She is a distraction, a distraction that makes my heart race in a thrilling way.

I glance over at her, she's staring off into space, her knee bobbing up and down rapidly. Gosh she's so beautiful.

I know I need to stay disciplined, but the way she looks at me feels like a challenge. Maybe it's the way she seems genuinely interested, like she sees something in me beyond just the athlete. 

I can't let this be a distraction, but part of me wonders if a little distraction would be worth it. It couldn't hurt could it?

I tell myself to keep my guard up, but what if—just what if—taking a break from the game to explore whatever this may be, no. I have goals to reach, and I can't afford to lose focus now. I have no time for her, I have to keep my head in the game. I need to keep my head in the game. The sacrifices I've made, the long hours of training. But what if there's room for both football, and her on my schedule?  

She stands up, picking up her backpack that was abandoned on the floor next to the bench. Her heads down, her hair falling to the sides of her face. "Thank you." she says quietly. I think I broke her or something. I feel so bad.

"Of course, are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should go to the nurse or something? Maybe she can look at the side of your head? It looks pretty bad. What happened?" she looks up quickly, her face drained of almost all color, except her eyes, gosh her beautiful green eyes. "Nothing happened, I tripped and hit my head on the stairs!" she says, her voice trembling slightly. Gosh, I think I really did break her. I mean she's so small compared to me, well she's small in general.

"I don't need to go to the nurse, thank you, though! I really do need to be going now," she says softly, her voice so quiet I almost don't catch it. Shit, we're both late to first period.

"I'll walk you to class. Who's your first teacher?" I ask, hoping for just a few more minutes with her.

"No, no, it's okay. I don't want to put you out," she murmurs, her voice barely audible. At first, I'm not even sure what she said.

"It wouldn't be any trouble at all, I promise. I'm already late, and chemistry? It's not that important anyway," I say, trying to sound casual but desperate to stay by her side. I hate chemistry. The thought of leaving, of not being near her, makes my chest tighten. I glance at her, admiring the way her shoulder length hair spirals up in some strands.

She looks down at her hands, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. God, I love her hair. "You don't have to," she says softly, her voice so timid. "I don't want you to get in trouble." She looks up at me for a second, then quickly glances away, fidgeting with her fingers. "But if you really don't mind..." Her words trail off, barely above a whisper.

I smile, stepping closer to her. "I don't mind at all."

With a small smile from her, we start walking together down the hall. The silence between us is comfortable, though I can feel her fidgeting beside me, like she's not used to this kind of attention. I sneak a glance at her, and my chest tightens again. I want to be around her, and every step with her makes that feeling stronger.

She tells me her first class is English, and I steer us toward the classroom, taking my time even though we're both late. When we reach the door, she hesitates, looking down at her feet.

"Thank you," she whispers, barely meeting my eyes.

I grin. "Anytime." 

As she slips into the classroom, I can't help but watch her for a second longer before heading to my own class, already thinking about the next time I'll see her.

I'm so fucked. 

                                                                                   ***

I walk into the boys changing room, almost immediately getting hit by the familiar smell of sweat and cologne. A few guys are already putting on their gear, shoving each other around. But my mind is somewhere else—still stuck on her. The way she fidgeted when I was close, the soft thank you she whispered at the door. I can't stop replaying it. "Hughes, where were you in chemistry? I had no fucking idea what was going on! You know I need your help, that class makes no fucking sense," my best friend Finn says, dropping his helmet onto the bench next to me. I blink, pulled out of my thoughts. "Yeah, sorry, man. I just got—held up." "Held up?" Finn raises an eyebrow, pulling on his shoulder pads. "By what?" "Just...stuff," I mutter, avoiding his smirk as I start getting into my own pads. But Finn's not about to let it go that easily. "Uh-huh. 'Stuff.'" He rolls his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Look, all I'm saying is you better not make a habit of ditching me in that class. You know I'll fail without you." I laugh, shaking my head. "Don't worry, Finn. I got you." "Good," he grins, finally satisfied as he buckles his chin strap. "Just make sure your mystery distraction doesn't get you benched." I shove him lightly. As we head out to the field, I can't help but think about her again, my chest tightening just like before. But Finn's right—for once. I need to get my head back in the game. 

We jog out to the field, the fall air cool against my face as I try to get my head in the game. Coach's voice cuts through the chatter, calling for warm-ups, and I snap into focus. Finn's next to me, cracking his knuckles with that grin that says he's ready to run circles around our defense today.

We break into drills, each move a welcome distraction. My mind's fully on the game now—the burn in my legs as I sprint, the jolt through my arms each time I catch a pass. Finn's on fire today too, weaving through the defense, his arms up and ready every time I look his way.

"Hey, over here!" Finn shouts, motioning for me to pass. I launch the ball toward him, watching as he snatches it from the air and bolts downfield, almost trampling in the process, evading the tackles and making a clean break to the end zone. He turns back, pumping his fist, and I can't help but laugh, running over to smack his helmet.

"Not bad," I say, catching my breath.

He laughs, nudging me. "That was all me, dude. You just made the throw."

Coach calls for a scrimmage, and I'm all in, positioning myself, reading the plays as they unfold. For the next hour, it's all instinct, strategy, focus, and running plays. I've got no room for anything but the game.

When Coach finally blows the whistle to end practice, I feel a solid mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. Finn walks over, looking as pumped as ever, and slaps my back.

"Friday's going to be ours, Hughes. Mark my words."

"Yeah, I'll hold you to that," I say, grinning as we head back to the locker room. 

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, as promised, I'll be posting chapters weekly on Fridays. I know these chapters aren't the longest, but I do hope they are enjoyable. Have a great rest of your day, B!