"Oi Dess! Are you dreaming or something, get your head back into the game!" The coach screams at Dess across the field. Dess stops his daydream and runs to the ball. People cheering the team on fills the pitch, all different cheers. Loud shouts, high pitched screams,clapping hands. I thinks of them as a distraction but
I ignores it. In his brain there is nothing but him and the ball. Nothing stops him to win the final point except the goalie. Burt Grey, the school bully. If he wasn't being an ass to everyone at school he was practicing football in the gym. Nobody likes him and no body will. It was probably a ruff upbringing but nothing can excuse all the lessons he has ruined. Throwing stuff across the class, shouting back to the teacher, writing swear words on the blackboard. He was the one who wrote. " Dess the faggot" all over my English jotter.
We just ignore him now.
And here he was. 10 feet away from me. I swiftly catch the ball and run towards him. I clench my teeth. The crowd stops cheering waiting for what will happen. I stop and pull my leg right back. I take a quick breath and push my leg forward into the goal. Silence. The pitch fills with cheers! I did it, I won the last point!
"Dess Ma man!" Sam shouts. He runs up and pats me on the back, his hands are quite big so it hurt my shoulder blade but I ignore it. Sam is a close friend maybe even a best friend. He has long blonde hair that he constantly flicks to the side. His eyes are dark blue and he has light freakles on his cheeks. He is VERY athletic. He plays for the schools football team, rugby team, badminton team and running club. He is coming down with a condition on his foot, I think it's called athletes foot? I'm not sure. I on the other hand am the opposite. I'm short with brown hair and green eyes.I play with the football team to shut my dad up. He is crazy about sports and wants me to grow up as a PROPER man. He is a little to ruff for my liking but I still try to please him. I'm very creative but my dad calls it feminine and always gives a sarcastic comment whenever I bring it up. For example
"oh you want paint, do you want to get me red to match your lipstick?"
That's not even the worst thing he has said.
"Art class? Do you want me to drop you off after we got to the shop to get you those tampons you like?"
After every joke he laughs- more of a cackle- and pats me hard on the back. What ever I said to start the horrible joke is forgotten and never brought up again.
" well done boy!" My dad shouts across the field. He jogs up to me. He runs quite sloppy. He is holding a coffee in one hand and a bacon sandwich in the other.
" you played great out there son!" He shouted nudging me with his elbow. Is accent was thick and whatever he said he says it too loud. You wouldn't be able to tell that he is my dad. It's hard to even say we are related we look nothing alike. He is 6'4 and I'm only 5'0; he has dark blonde hair, I have light brown. There is no similarities except our nose we both have a very small, button nose.
"shit!" My dad shouts. He spills his coffee burning his hand. Everyone looks over to see what the fuss is about.
"Come on dad lets go!" I say pulling his arm. I hate too much unwanted attention. I needed to get him out of the field and back home.
" alright, alright hold on!" He said. Dad took a bite out of the sandwich revealing a ketchup blob on his beard. I sigh and continue pulling his arm.
" got the keys?" I ask hoping to get his mind if me leaving the trophy ceremony.
" yeah, yeah." He pulls out the keys and opens the door.
"Crap... Dad I'll be right back, I forgot my bag." I quickly left, hoping not to hear dads response. Everyone was still celebrating. as I ran though the crowd everyone was patting me on the back and congratulating me and the team.
I quickly grabbed my back and started jogging back to the car.
"Oi!" Coach grabbed my arm to stop me from running.
" yes coach." I Straighten up and put my bag over my shoulders.
" where do you think your going, we still have the team meet." He lets go of my arm revealing a red hand mark.
"Sorry...coach... I have to go and pick my mum up. She is waiting for me."
"Oh well... That's a shame then."
There was an uncomfortable silence.
" bye coach." I say and walk away.
"Dess, don't forget your medal." Coach shouts and he walkes up to me.
" you did great today." He slips the medal over my head and pats me on the chest.
"Thanks coach." I say as I quickly start running back to the car.
I can see dad waiting in the car, he has devoured the bacon sandwich.
"Sorry dad." I quickly click my seatbelt and shut the door.
" alright boy." He says and reverses the car.
"Let's go home."
