Golden Boy

1.3; Declan Woods: football extraordinaire

"C'mon, c'mon!" Brynklie yelled into Taylor's ear, dragging her down the bleacher stairs. Bostyn lagged behind, taking the far-too-narrow-and-tall-to-be-legal steps at a safe pace (the architecture of the bleachers indicated they'd probably been built in the mid 80's, and were in serious need of being brought up to modern health and safety standards). People were still screaming in their seats about the outcome of the match, the Richmond team still running victory laps with Declan perched on their shoulders.

Taylor muttered a "chill!", twisting her arm in Brynklie's grip. "Declan's still going to be there later, when you're done ripping my arm out of its socket," thank goodness she'd donned converse rather than the pumps she'd been considering; she'd have broken her neck by now in those.

"And later everyone else will be there too!" Brynklie called back, voice lost in the cheers. People were starting to move now; a tidal wave of screams carried by people drunk on either coke or vodka or some vile combination of the two. "We have to get there first!"

By there, Taylor assumed Brynklie meant the locker rooms. Having been in boys locker rooms on several occasions for varying reasons, Taylor had absolutely no desire to step foot in one again, but with the way Brynklie had made victim of her arm, she doubted she had a choice. They probably weren't even allowed to visit the lockers, but Taylor knew the coach, Danny, had a soft spot for the Browns (something to do with their father saving him in a motorbike accident fifteen odd years ago, she didn't know the full details) and would probably turn a blind eye as log as they were being "supportive". At least, that was what Brynklie had bragged in the car on the way over.

Finally, they reached the bottom of the death-case and Brynklie let go of Taylor so she could hoist herself over the railing and onto the field. Others were starting to do the same; soon it would be filled with cheering or sobbing fans. Taylor knew at home games their school played old timey dance music when the match had finished, an awkward attempt to get everyone moving. The football teams were beginning to filter back into their respective locker rooms, the boys carrying Declan lagging back to make one final lap.

Brynklie awkwardly half slid, half catapulted her way over the railing, narrowly missing ending up in a heap on the fake grass. Taylor expected more from her dancer friend, but then again, Brynks was practically in hysterics over Declan's win so her her reflexes probably weren't moving at their normal speed.

Knowing it was her turn, Taylor climbed over much more gracefully, landing on the artificial surface with but a soft hiss of the sand. She took a moment to tighten her highlighted ponytail before running after Brynklie, who'd already taken off. For someone with such an average body to leg ratio, Brynklie certainly moved fast when she wanted to. "Slow down bitch!"

Brynklie didn't even turn to acknowledge her. "Run faster, bitch!"

Taylor rolled her eyes and chased on, feet kicking up a storm of land from the artificial grass. She caught up to her friend just as she reached the door to the lockers rooms, and it seemed like several other Richmond girls had had the exact same idea as they weren't the only ones. Was Taylor really the only girl (well apart from Bostyn and a few others, for obvious reasons) who wasn't completely in love with Declan?

She felt her hand being grabbed again by Brynklie (who was all sweaty - gross! Weren't dancers supposed to have good stamina?), who was screaming something about the cheer team beating them. "I will cut Samara if she-" the rest of Brynklie's words was cut off as Taylor felt herself lurch forward from the sheer stench of the room. Old socks and greasy jockstraps - maybe Taylor could bottle it up and sell it as an animal deterrent, it was that bad. Eue de Teenage Boy, she'd call it.

"Yo, coach! Some more girls got in!" One of the boys called out spotting them. It was Colin Lore, shirtless in all his completely ab-less glory. Taylor made a disgusted face as he sidled up next to her, a clean shirt clutched in his hands which it didn't seem like he had any intention of putting on. "Hey Taylor," he smirked, as if he thought coming on to her when he was covered in sweat and smelling like skunk was going to work despite the numerous times she'd rejected him in the past, even when he was looking slightly presentable.

"Ew," Taylor commented, jostling to the side to avoid being hit by Everton Smyth and Amber Skaggs, still in her cheerleader outfit, who were viciously trying to create some sort of bodily fluid vacuum while leaning up against the bleachers. Everton was hastily trying to slide his class ring onto Amber's hand as they did so, and was making a giant ass of himself well doing it. Taylor knew the gesture was supposed to be all romantic and sweet - but there was nothing all that adorable about a senior making out with a fourteen year old.

Colin ran a hand through his hair. "One day, Nunez, one day-"

"One day I'll get a restraining order for you," Taylor finished for him, leaving the manwhore in the dust behind her. She stalked through the lockers and past more boys in varying states of getting changed (most of them complete disappointments), before easily spotting Brynklie, well, more the crowd that her friend was a part of.

The gaggle of girls and players surrounded Declan, still screaming about how amazing he had done. Taylor knew he'd hate it - he'd always hated attention, especially when it came in the for, of wailing teen girls begging him to either date them, fuck them or marry them (most of the time, she'd seen from watching, it was all three). Once, on one of those now awkward times when they'd accidentally stumbled across each other in the street and had to say something, she'd asked him why he didn't just pick a girl to date so the rest would turn off their hormones. Declan's answer had come as a sort of mumble: yes, he was a golden boy, with a 5.0 and insane football skills coupled with good looks, but if their childhood together and taught Taylor anything, it was that Declan Woods was really just a package of nerves in need of the care and love his house never could give.

And with that, Taylor decided to do her one nice deed for the month. Taylor Nunez did not like to help people; she figured that people should be perfectly capable on their own, but sometimes she made special allowances.

With a deep breathe in (which she then had to hack up due to the stink) she pushed through the gaggle. A few of the girls called out at her and she felt someone pinch her arm, but she kept going - nothing stopped Taylor when there was something she wanted to do.

She reached Declan in the middle, who was awkwardly accepting hugs from the girls who were throwing themselves at him - Jesus, one of them was Brynklie - still wearing his uniform and helmet, which was odd. Most of the players ditched them as soon as they could, but then again, most of them didn't have quite so many people intent on catching their attention.

Taylor wrapped her manicured hand around Declan's bicep, beginning to pull him away. His skin was hot and sweaty, even through the football shirt, his muscles hard as stone. "Sorry girls, the meet and greet is over," she smiled, voice dripping like venom. Most of them seemed to get the obvious clear off message, though she spotted most of them pouting and looking extremely pissed, but she was Taylor Nunez, and no way would they dare disrespect her.

Ignoring the lingering ones, she guided Declan away, back towards the doors where she figured his stuff would be. "I don't know how you deal with it," she told him. They weren't really friendly with each other anymore, but she needed to say something, "without going batshit crazy."

Declan gave a curt nod of his head before coming to a standstill. Taylor looked down to see a worn bag which she figured to be his. He stood still, waiting for to leave. Instead, she gave him an odd look, uncurling her hand from his upper arm. "Are you okay?"

He nodded once again, this time waving a hand like he was dismissing her, before bending down to grab his bag.

"That's all I get?" Taylor shrugged, "Not even a thanks?"

Declan pushed past her.