Chapter-14 Cruel Intentions...Or Not?

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❤ Kylee Jackson ❤

This it it. Today is the evening of the big soccer game. This game could make us win the Ohio Interschool Championship Series. If my team and I focus, we could win it.

"Kylee?" Mom says in a concerned voice. "You're torturing the spaghetti."

I look down at my lunch. My fork is digging into my plate of spaghetti, and I've moved it around so much that most of the noodles and meatballs are squashed; it looks like I'd picked the spaghetti up from the dustbin and put it on my plate.

"Sorry, I'm just...nervous."

Kris puts his free hand on mine. "It's okay; I practically feel the same. Anyways, we're gonna have to be leaving soon. I'll drive first with Mom and Dad. I gotta pick up June too."

I nod. "Okay. Anyways it'll take me a while. You guys go ahead."

But I'm still nervous. I'm the attacking-midfielder in the team, and the captain too. The whole fate of our game lies on my shoulders.

"Kyles, chill. It'll be alright. The game will be great." Kris gets up. Okay. I'm gonna go get ready, okay people?" He walks over to his bedroom.

Soon Mom and Dad leave to get ready too. I'm the only one sitting at the table, and I pick up all the plates and go to the kitchen to put them in the dishwasher.

I look up at the clock; it's four o'clock. Gotta get ready for the game.

I see off Mom, Dad and Kris, and then go upstairs and get into the shower.

Okay, Kylee. You can do this. You're one of the best players. You have to win.

All these pep-talks swirl in my head as I shampoo my hair, when I suddenly hear a soft click. I turn off the shower and walk cautiously over to the bathroom door. I put my hand on the doorknob to check whether it has been locked somehow, and turn it. The door opens.

Huh.

Maybe I just imagined it, I think as I close the door again and finish my shower.

A while later, I'm ready, wearing my team Jersey and shorts, my hair pulled back in a high ponytail. I look at myself in the the mirror, make a big thumbs-up and taking my bag, go to open my bedroom door.

I pull on the doorknob, but it doesn't open.

Not again.

It can't be jammed again! I just oiled it two days ago! I push and pull on it, but it doesn't even budge. "Aargh!" I start hitting on it with my shoulder. "Stupid-" Bam! "Idiotic-" Bam! "Jammed door!" Bam! Bam!

I pull away and rub my smarting shoulder, when I suddenly hear chuckles from outside the window overlooking the driveway. I walk over to it and look out. As soon as I see the culprit, my eyes widen. Anger fills every part of my body.

"BRANDON ALEX DASHNER! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!!" Yup, the person outside is Brandon. He's lounging outside the gates of my house, giving one of those smirks of his.

Now, I don't care how much of a crush I have on him, I will kill him if he ruins this match for me.

"How did you lock me in my room?!" I ask, baffled and angry at the same time.

He smirks again. "It was easy, really. I just jumped from my window to yours, came into your room, and went out, locking your bedroom door. Then all I had to do was leave through the main door."

I groan out of frustration, and then look back at Brandon, who has a very amused expression on his face. "Brandon, this match is important to both of us. It's important for the whole team. We could win the Interschool Championship!! Please let me go!" I'm almost begging.

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