Long Distance Call | tayley ✓

2 | What A Day

[Hayley]

It seemed as though everyone had been talking about the game that involved our school's soccer team. When I entered my favorite class of the day, creative writing, the first face I saw was a familiar one.

Though familiar, I did not know him from class, but simply because of his popularity. Wearing his varsity jacket, Taylor York stood there speaking to a friend of his, Zac. Zac Farro. I was friends, well, more like acquaintances with his older brother Josh. The two of us had quite an unforgettable experience. But Zac was a year below his brother, Taylor, and I. He was in my creative writing class, even though he was a year below me, because the class was an elective for us, one that he surprisingly took.

Zac brought his hand up to give his friend a high-five. I overheard a laugh from the athlete. Something I always wondered was what people like them talked about. Sex? Girls? Drugs? I've always felt as though there's no way they could have in depth conversations.

Something my mother would always tell me is that it's better to have a few close friends than to have a lot of friends who I'm not close with. I felt as though even with his popularity, Taylor having people he can tell everyone to was unlikely. But I don't know him like some people do.

My teacher glanced up from the large stack of papers he'd been grading. I saw two red pens beside him. He stood up from his desk and walked to Taylor. He patted the athlete on the shoulder.

"Good job last night, champ," he said to the soccer star, who I noticed was sporting a few bruises on his skin. The darkest one of all was on his neck, but I'm pretty confident that that was not a bruise.

Soon, the rest of my class filed in. So Taylor said goodbye to Zac and left the room. It's not like he'd be in trouble for being late to class. In my school, athletes seemed to receive special treatment just because that's the way they represented the school. Especially when they were the star of the team, which is exactly what Taylor was. Players who played for opposing teams feared him. Even with my lack of knowledge for the sport he played, I understood that he was a force to be reckoned with when on the playing field.

Later in the day, I had made my way down to the cafeteria. I dropped my brown paper lunch bag down on the table. When I arrived, my friend Lyndsey and her friend Alexa were already there, speaking about something I didn't care much for. Alexa spoke, even with a mouthful of grapes.

Those two had dated a while back. And for reasons I won't go into too much detail with, they decided they might be happier if separated. And they did that. And though their relationship changed so that it lacked any romance, I believe that those two were closer than ever before.

"How much have you heard about the game so far?" I asked the two others. Lynn rolled her eyes and Alexa continued eating grapes as if she really couldn't stop. None of us were really into soccer, even though Lynn's friend Brian was the biggest fan of the team known as Chelsea that I had ever met. I've witnessed him and Taylor arguing over whether Chelsea or Manchester United were better teams. Believe me, I don't know a thing about the sport, but they almost made it sound interesting. Just almost.

"Too much," Lynn commented while Alexa nodded her head and pulled her black beanie down a bit so it covered more of her forehead.

In minutes, I ate what my mother had packed me for lunch. Except for the sandwich. I learned long ago to never eat the sandwiches she packs.

But the brown bag included a pudding cup (which I devoured) along with a small bag of chips that held more air than food.

But my mother hadn't packed me with a drink. So I left my table with a few dollars in hand and went to the fridge where they held the many drink options. Not seeing anything I was a fan of, I remembered the fact that they served coffee. So I settled for that.

I made myself a cup, added plenty of sugar, a bit of milk, paid for it, and began to return to my seat. But I heard my phone buzz as I was returning to my friends. Being the klutz I am, while I was removing my phone from my pocket, not looking up, I bumped into someone. I looked up when I felt my body knock into the other person and I realized that the majority of my coffee had spilled out of my cup, hitting the other person. My coffee cup soon fell to the tiled floor.

And when I looked up, I saw who that that person was the infamous Taylor York.

God, it was embarrassing. My cheeks felt hotter than the coffee. I looked down at the dark stains that had been left on his clothing thanks to me. After staring for what felt like a long time, I looked back up so our eyes met. He had some pretty eyes, I noticed that.

But with his eyes piercing mine, I felt the need to get away. Though I should have stuck around, apologized, and assisted him with drying off, I rushed off and made my way to my seat. I didn't dare look back, but instead I hurried until I was at my table. My cheeks were obviously scarlet considering both Lynn and Alexa gave me a look of confusion.

"Taylor York. I spilled my coffee on him," I said and buried my face into my hands. I peeked through my fingers and the two others did not appear to be nearly as distressed as me. I removed my hands from my face, and let out a heavy sigh. What a day.