Falling for the Player

Chapter 5- A New Friend

I pulled my old Pittsburgh Steelers sweatshirt over my head and put on my rain boots. Outside, the morning air was brisk and a thick fog was rolling over town, covering the buildings like a blanket. I shoved my numb fingers deeper into my pockets in a desperate attempt to warm them. There were still large puddles of water pooled on the sidewalk and by the curb from last night's storm.

I trudged along the sidewalk, trying to focus on things other than the biting cold. I heard the screech of car tires behind me and turned to find Blake's black Porsche speeding towards me. Veronica was sitting next to him in the passenger's seat, laughing her head off. They raced towards me and splashed through a puddle as the passed, leaving me soaked from head to toe. I felt water slowly start to seep through my jeans, leaving me shivering.

"Typical," I muttered to myself.

************

By the time I had finished all of my classes, I was completely dry, but I had a blazing stomach ache. I marched into the journalism classroom, my tightly wound curls springing in every which direction. I plopped down next to Margo, who was typing on her laptop.

"What's the matter?" She asked, seeing my sickly state, "you look dismal."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, resting my head on the table, "I think I might have gotten sick from the cold this morning."

I conveniently left out the part about Blake sending a tsunami at me with his car. She would just defend him. Margo nodded knowingly and went back to her typing. I shoved my hood over my messy hair stared out the window. The sky was dark and the temperature didn't look like it increased much from this morning. I could see the freshly cut football field from my spot by the window. I could just make out Blake's tiny figure catching the ball in the end zone for a touch down.

There was only one word I could think of when it came to Blake Harmon: jackass. The thought of Margo having any sort of relationship with him made me want to vomit. (And the fact that I actually felt like I was going to puke any second didn't help much either). I glanced over at Margo, who's fingers were moving furiously over her keyboard. Her fiery, red hair was pulled into a braid and her pale face was dotted with freckles. I couldn't help feel a pang of annoyance towards her. She could have any boy she wanted, and yet, she was still head over heels for Blake.

My thoughts were interrupted as the journalism club leader, Mr. Brown, opened the door to the classroom.

"Morning ladies," he said as he walked in. His eyes scanned the almost empty classroom and paused when they got to me, "wow, Elaine, you look dreadful."

"So I've heard," I muttered under my breath.

Mr. Brown came over to our table and plopped down across from Margo.

"Have only two of you shown up?" He asked in his Scottish accent.

Margo nodded.

"Typical," Mr. Brown murmured, "only two students show up and one of them is on the brink of death."

"I think that's overstating it, Sir," I said, smiling.

"Alright," he said, pulling a stack of papers from his brief case, "then I guess you'll be up to starting a new story for me."

I mentally groaned. I should've just ditched like every other person in this class.

"The football team is expected to make it to the state championship," he said, handing over a Manila folder filled with papers, "I want you to report on their progress. Coach Fitz gave me this folder. It includes everything you need to know about the team."