Harrogance

38 2 7
                                    

"Ughh. How much longer?" I grumbled, gazing out the window at the yellowing paddocks. The fresh-faced sun just beginning to creep up, peeking over the dry hills.
My brother, Josh, nodded at a large green sign, it read "Launceston, 64 kilometres." answering my question.
His fingers tapped away on the steering wheel, Justin Bieber's Sorry belting through the car radio.

The nerves began to set in. Trials always made me nervous, that paired with the fact that I would be seeing him today made my stomach uneasy.

"Yuck, cut your hair please." I turned to Josh in an attempt to distract myself. His blonde mullet disgusted me, even if it was just a temporary style.
"A bet's a bet, Saides." He laughed. "There's 20 bucks on the line if I keep this bad boy for a week."
I gestured towards my throat, pretending to vomit onto his lap.

I gazed back out of the bug splattered windscreen. Vast paddocks began to shift into more heavily foliated patches. Green eucalyptus shoots shot out from burnt stumps, bush fire had stamped its mark here only last summer. The land was dry again, another scorching Aussie summer was lined up, more fires were predicted too.

I checked my cruddy phone, a dingy old iPhone 4 that struggled to turn on at the best of times. Running my fingers down the cracked screen, I refreshed my Facebook Messenger, no new messages- of course. I sighed, not sure what I was thinking really. As if I'd have any messages, I never did.

Just as I tapped the power button, my phone vibrated.
"Oh, message from lover boy?" Josh teased, laughing as my cheeks blushed.
"We're just mates Josh," I assured him, though deep down I wished this wasn't the case. I began to read the message:
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Niall: hey girl, can't make trials today. already put my application in, so if they ask tell them ill be there next week. cheers mate :)
Saidie (Me): yeh no worries, will let the boys' coach know. see you next week :)
----
My heart deflated. We lived within a 15 minute walk of eachother, yet whenever I tried to make plans with the goofy Irish boy, he'd meticulously cancel, or not even bother to respond. But of course, he'd message me if ever he needed something. We were close when we were little, but as we grew up, we drifted. He started hanging out with the popular crowd, his good looks and charm outweighed his slightly nervous tendencies. But me, I couldn't seem to crack my way into that group. I wasn't lucky in the friends department, I don't have one or two amazingly brilliant best friends, like everyone else. I just kind of float from group to group.
"Can you let your coach know that Niall won't be there this week?" I asked my brother.
"Hm? Yeah." He replied, though Justin Bieber was still blasting through the radio, so I don't know how much of my request Josh had understood.

Disappointed that I wouldn't get to see him, but slightly relived and less anxious to learn that he wouldn't be at the trials to see me make a fool of myself, I lay my head against the window and stretched my legs onto the dashboard, trying to doze off.
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"Wake up lazy ass!" Josh yelled, slapping my leg. I sat up, shocked that we had arrived already. "Good luck with trials, run hard, play well.. yada yada." He said, in an attempt to replicate Dad's famous pep talks.
"Mm, yep. Thanks. You too." I replied, only half focusing.
A tall boy, shirtless, and drop dead gorgeous was running amuck outside of the gym. All the girls were ogling him, and all the guys were laughing and encouraging him. Under a green cap, he had wavy brown hair that was pulled back into a bun, and his stomach was amazingly defined. White shorts complimented his tanned skin. He was beautiful, and boy did he seem to know it, he was strutting around and drawing attention to himself.

"Ugh. Harry Styles." Josh nodded towards the man/guy/boy/god, "Bloody idiot. Steer clear of him, Saides." He warned me. I nodded, agreeing with my brother for once.
I couldn't help but feel a bit jealous of the way he was exuding confidence, and managing to interact with everyone. He seemed like my polar opposite.
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I began to remember how daunting this whole process could be. I'd have to train with a bunch of, most likely clique-y, bitchy, teenage girls. I'd have to run loads, and show case my skills as much as possible. The idea of having to introduce myself to a bunch of unknown girls alone made me want to puke. But with my brother's patience growing weary, I hauled myself from the car. I yanked my bag out of Josh's manky old boot, wheeling it behind me as I hurried to find a safe haven in the gym- the toilets. With my head down, I scurried passed the group of socialising teens.
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I gazed into the dirty bathroom mirror. I looked feral, and training hadn't even started. I attempted to tame my long, thin blonde hair into a straight pony tail, but my hair was disagreeing with the two hour long car journey, and decided to leave me with an awkwardly kinked pony instead. The only thing I have going for me is my beachy blonde hair colour. Instead of lightly tousled beachwaves to match the sandy colour, I was blessed (cursed?) with a consistently ratty, ugly, kinky-straight kind of do. 
My face was red and blotchy from simply walking in the steaming hot gym. How I was going to survive running laps, I did not know. Why did I agree to put myself through these stupid trials? It's not like I would get selected, and to be honest, I didn't even know if I wanted to make the stinking team.

I pushed on the toilet door, and wanted to gag at the sight of smelly public cubicle. If I had the choice, I would never use public bathrooms, but my social awkwardness and tiny bladder meant that I frequented them often.
Just as I sat on the toilet, my phone buzzed. Hoping for a reply from Niall, I checked it eagerly:
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Josh: oi get ur ass out here now. coach is doijg role and girls have gathered in a gruop
----
I awkwardly tried to edge my way into the circle of Nike clad girls, but it was to no avail. I stood on the outer edge of the circle, taller girls blocked my view of our shouting coach. She was giving us the usual run down, what they were looking for in players, what training would consist of etc.

She finished speaking, and the girls began to change their shoes, so I took this cue and did the same. I whipped out my fresh Nikes, a vibrant blue swoosh contrasted with the pink and black body of my new shoes.
"Hey, sweet shoes." I turned to the left, a pretty girl with light brown hair complimented me, "I'm Sarsha."

"Thank you," I looked back at her welcoming brown eyes. "Saidie." I smiled to her.

"Alright ladies! Enough with the chit-chat. Shoes on and begin your warm up laps!" The coach bellowed. I looked at her for the first time, whilst lacing my shoes. She was a short, solid woman, with long wavy brown hair tied back in a tight pony, she was dressed in an inspirational t-shirt and Adidas shorts. I gazed around, and spotted Josh, he was receiving the run down from his coach. He waved at my, and gestured good luck, to which I flicked him the bird. I still don't know how he managed to talk me into trying out for this stupid team.

"Excuse you!" A voice shrieked in my ear, I turned to find my coach, Megan, staring back at me. I was mortified, red faced I began to apologise rapidly. She laughed, "I can take a joke, and I'm sure he can too." She assured me, gesturing towards Josh, "But, start running, blondey."

Sarsha and I joined the rest of the girls, the majority of which were tall, tan, slim and blonde, of course. By the 2nd of 5 laps, I could tell that this team trial was going to suck.

******
Author's note:
Hey guys, thanks so much for reading. I've never done this before, so I hope it doesn't suck too badly.

Question: WHAT SPORT DO YOU PICTURE SAIDIE TRYING OUT FOR?

Thanks for reading! Any comments are welcome.
Much love xx

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