Chalk It Up To Fate

Ch.10 Marshall

After a disastrous day of 'putting in effort' as my step mom would call it, all I wanted to do was get out of this dress and cry myself to sleep so I could face another day of humiliation all over again tomorrow.

But no. Queen Bee Mandy couldn't wait to start her and my "New Year, New School" article for our Journalism class. The 'putting herself out there and trying her best Marshall' decided to NOT be a bitch to my maybe friend and agree to interview the football team captain and coach. Plus... it wouldn't hurt to get a decent grade for once.

Amanda led me to the practice field. As we walked side by side she gave the rundown on my first official interview.

"Here is the list of questions I will ask." She plopped down a notebook, a clipboard, and a couple of pens.
"Wait," I paused my walk as I looked down at the sheets she gave me. "These aren't questions, they are topics. What am I supposed to do."

Amanda rolled her eyes and gave me a pitiful smile. "I'm sorry. I've been doing this for so long, I should have set it up better."
She turned, grabbed my arm and continued toward the field. "I can't exactly script what I ask them... the questions come naturally to me. Just try to follow along the best you can and don't be afraid to ask me any questions either."

I take a deep breath and try my best to not be annoyed. I had a cry session scheduled after school that I needed to get to. Instead I have to continue to pretend that I know what I'm doing.

We approach the field and my attention goes from Amanda to hot guys in tight pants.

Ok... maybe not my worst idea ever. I give the boys a once over as Amanda approaches the coaches, asking for the new offensive coach. She converses with the old men as I scope the field, watching Reece take one to the head. I can't help but laugh. That guy is prone to getting hurt.

That, or his face is hittable.

"Marshall," Amanda clears her throat, nudging me with her arm, "are you getting this?" Joining in on the conversation, I realize how bad my handwriting is. I am trying so hard to keep up with the conversation that I can't even read my own handwriting.

"Easton!" The coach yells, making me jump.

I do a double take at the big, blonde, and beautiful boy jogging toward us. His hair is wet and tasseled from his helmet. He has a sharp jaw line and easy, friendly brown eyes. He looks me up and down and I feel my face flush.

"Easton, these lovely ladies are from the yearbook committee asking for an interview" the coach says.

Easton... even his name is hot.

"Actually, we are part of the journalism class, not just yearbook but the school newspaper too," Amanda say sharply, yet with a smile.

Easton doesn't seem to catch her tone and flashes us a smile, first talking to Amanda. "Hey Amanda, nice to see you again."

He then turns he me, extending his hand. "We haven't met, I'm Easton." I take his hand, smile, and breathlessly reply

"Marshall."

"Marshall," he repeats making me flush even more, "I've never heard that name before."

I pull my hand away, slightly embarrassed. "My parents loved Eminem. His real name is Marshall. They had it all planned for a boy and was severely disappointed when I popped out instead. Didn't change their mind on the name though." I babbled, fighting the urge to smack myself in the head. He didn't need my life story!

Easton laughed a genuine laugh, tipping his head back. I giggled, part relieved, the other part embarrassed. "Well," Easton said, "I think it suits you. It reminds me of a Deputy Marshall—you know, law enforcement?" He looked me up and down once more.

"My parents loved baseball, so much so they named me after a baseball brand—Easton. They weren't too happy when I came out loving football. I can't complain, though.

I smiled at his words relieved I wasn't the only one with an odd backstory—or odd parents.

"Well... I'm sorry for pulling you out of practice. I think this will be a quick couple of questions."

Amanda inserted herself then, working through her questions fast. As I tried to keep up, I noticed Easton flashing me his stunning smile once in a while, turning me red all over again. He wasn't the only one paying attention though. From the corner of my eye a certain running back kept looking our way... or should I say Amanda's way.

I gave a funny look as I continued to follow the conversation. Eventually he saw me, giving me the same glare. I scoffed, returning to my notebook.
"What a lovesick loser" I muttered under my breath. I head Easton chuckle, and Amanda heave a sigh.

Whoops, they heard me.

Amanda looked pointedly at Easton and me. "Are either of you listening? I'm almost done."

I smiled, "Sorry Amanda. Maybe we should let Easton get back to practice." She frowned, clearly not happy. I shrugged as Easton turned to me.

"I think that's a great idea, you both know where to find me if you need me?" He asked looking to me once more. I smiled deciding to be bold.

"You know, I don't think I do. We do have a thing called cell phones that make it easier," I held my breath, hoping he would pick up what I was trying to say.

He turned to Amanda, "Amanda? Give her my number?" He smiled, then started running back to practice. He turned to us once more "I'll be looking forward to that follow up interview deputy. Text me, ok?"

I nodded and watched as he joined his team. I couldn't help but notice his intensity toward the game. He looked fierce on the field, making him THAT much hotter. Amanda scoffed next to me.

"I wouldn't go there Marshall." I turned to her with a furrowed brow.

"When he says he loves football... it's TOO much. He is the no strings attached type. Fucks them and forgets them. Nothing will come between him and trying to get a scholarship."

I avert my eyes from hers, watching his practice once again. We sit in silence, watching. Finally, I speak up.

"I don't mind. I move around a lot, so it's not like I'm looking for something serious anyway." She touches my shoulder.

"Oh honey. Let's get out of here." I turn to Amanda again, gauging her reaction.

As we walk away from the field I can't help but wonder if Amanda is really sincere, or playing a part.