When the World Turns

2. That Jock

Chapter 2://: That Jock

"Have you seen Goosebumps yet?" Melanie asked from across our lunch table. "Nope," Kyle sighed, digging his fork into his cheesy macaroni. "I wish I did."

"I saw it," I grinned. "Was it good?" I nodded and bit my lip to refrain from telling them everything about it and spoiling the story. "I'll be right back. I'm gonna go get some more napkins," I laughed, making a face at Kyle who had macaroni dripping off of his chin.

I stood up and walked over to the supply table, grabbing a few napkins and a new fork, knowing Kyle would probably break his.

"Hey, baby girl." I rolled my eyes as I heard someone I wished had never been born. "Hey, Tyrone."

I turned around and started heading back, but he grabbed my arm and pulled so I was right next to him. "Don't walk away from me."

I crossed my arms and attempted to get his arm off of mine while glaring up at him. "I'm not walking away, I'm running away. From you and your grubby hands."

"Grubby hands? That's not what you said last night," he grinned. "There was no, last night," I growled. "Now get out of my face, and sit down with your stupid friends, okay?"

Tyrone tried to pull me back again, but this time he was the one who got pulled back. "Ty, stop. What's wrong with you, man?" A deep voice said.

"Nothing. Chill. I got this fine honey right here. Me and her, we're a team." I rolled my eyes at his comment, mumbling under my breath. "It's courtesy to put the other person before yourself in a sentence."

"Whatever," the voice sighed. "Just come on. Sorry you had to deal with that."

I called back a thank you over my shoulder, not really caring to see who had pulled him away. I didn't like mingling with the jocks. Most of them were hot-headed, stupid, stubborn, and they all had big egos, waiting to be fed.

At one point, I'd been friends with Tyrone, but then he'd turned into one of them. It was like being a zombie. All you could do once you were turned into one was live for sports, and the worst part— There was no antidote.

I absolutely hated sports (or at least playing them, anyways), so the last thing I wanted to do was sit around with a bunch of guys who talked about them nonstop.

"Here's your napkins," I grumbled, flinging them at Kyle. "What's bothering you?" He asked.

"Nothing." He bit his lip, looking at Melanie for help, but all she did was shrug.

"It's fine," I forced a smile. "Just Tyrone." Kyle frowned and immediately crossed his arms. "You know, I could punch him for you. A few days of suspension couldn't hurt."

"Kyle," I laughed with a smile. "It's fine. This guy pulled him away." He raised an eyebrow, but I ignored it. I really didn't feel like talking about any–

"A guy?" Melanie sat up straighter and grinned. Oh no. "What did he look like? Is he cute?"

"Melanie," I groaned, slumping back in my seat. "I didn't even see his face. I have no idea. All I know is that he tried to knock some sense into that douche."

"Ugh, you never talk about any guys," she huffed. "True," I laughed. "All of the boys here are stupid and ugly or cute and rude."

"Hurtful!" Kyle threw his hands up into the air. "Sorry," I giggled. "You don't count. You're like my brother."

"Friend zone? Really?" He laughed, rolling his eyes with a smile. "I guess I'll take what I can get." I took a drink of my soda, wondering who the mystery guy was and why I hadn't even thought to see his face.

He was a jock, but he seemed genuinely nice since he pulled Stupid away from me, unlike the other jocks who just cheered him on.

I heaved a breath from my chest as I realized there was one question that was going to keep me up all night— Who was that jock?