Have you guys ever notced that "Budapest" by George Ezra is basically Ezria's relationship?
There it is! Found it with Wattpad's sound cloud.
(Taylor P.O.V.)
I am in love with this dog. She is so beautiful.
It is four thirty. Time to get ready to lacrosse practice.
Taylor, you need to be honest with yourself. You like Mitchell, and that is one of the few reasons that you are playing lacrosse is because you can talk to him in between drills.
I want him. I want him bad. He is the cutest.
With his blue eyes, and his nice thick brown hair that I just want to mess up.
I change in to my spandex shorts and loose fitted tank top, because I think we are doing running drills today.
I throw the rest of my lacrosse crap in my bag in case I need it.
Man, this makes my boobs look nice.
Jeez, Taylor. Get yo self together gurl.
Not like you are trying to impress anyone.
Because you know, we all need to be sexy for practice.
I look in the mirror.
My butt looks really nice.
I guess that it is a good thing that I am a good runner, because Coach Fitz wants me to be center.
It is odd how big if a rivalry the lacrosse team XC team have, especially because the coaches are married.
It is crazy, but, then again, I hear Mr. and Mrs. Fitz have always been competitive.
Mia walks by my room.
"Need a ride to practice?"
"How'd ya know?"
"Well, you are dressed for practice, and, Mom and Dad are at work."
Mia locks Oakley in one room.
"Vamanos a mi practica." I say, loudly. (Let's go to my practice.)
"Nerd!" Mia says,
"Haha." I say.
We get in Dad's Touareg.
We rock out to some George Ezra.
"Thanks Mia."
"Any time, Tay."
"Hey, coach." I say.
"Hey, Taylor." Mr. Fitz says.
"What are we doing today?"
"Sprints with full gear."
"Okay." I say, as I put the gear over my clothes.
Five minutes after everyone got here, coach starts to talk..
"Okay, so, we are going to run to the end of the field and back five times. First to finish gets an ice cold Gatorade."
Sweet. You got this, Tay.
"Stretching first, though."
After stretches, we start right up.
One done. In the lead.
Two done. Still in the lead.
Three done. I am going to win this.
One to go. Wait, who is that?
Jamie Kahn hits my with her defense stick. That little bitch.
A very loud popping noise comes from my knee.
As it hurts, I need to keep running. I want that Gatorade.
Holy tits of Jesus that hurts, I think as I collapse.
"You okay Taylor?" Coach asks, as he blows the whistle.
"I don't think so." I say.
Something is definatly broken.
"Oh crap, I see bone. That is definatly not a good thing." Coach says.
Shit, we will have to call an ambulance.
"Hey, Coach Montgomery? Can you watch my players for a few minutes? And, maybe, call Spencer Cavanaugh?" Coach Fitz yells, making a makeshift splint out of extra clothing that was thrown on the ground, and duck tape.
Ugh, more people. Oh my. Mitch is coming.
"Sure, why? Oh, hey, there is a knee swelling. That is not good. Um, you should send them home." He says, motioning at my teammates.
"Are you okay?" Mitch asks.
"No." I say.
"Is there anything I can do?" He asks.
"Can you grab me my water bottle out of my bag please?"
"Of course."
He walks over and grabs the water bottle.
"Here you go."
"Thanks."
"Anything else?" He asks.
"No." I try to say, before I
See what I did there at the end? She passed out in pain.
I got plans.
Trust me, I got dem. For once.
