Dead, Until We Meet Again ;^)

A Sweet Girl

A roar erupted from the football field. All of the people in blue jumped up yelling and cheering, while all those in red remained silent and seemed to slunk down a bit.

Cornwall must’ve won.

George looked to the girl, who was staring towards the game.

“We should get back.” He saw her jump a little at the sound of his voice. Startled?

She turned to face him and, not wanting to go back with this gloomy atmosphere, he smiled to her, “You might’ve won today, Cornwall, but you’re going down in the tournament.”

She looked at him for a moment, before she smirked and raised an eyebrow, “Oh really? Well, your on, Basshunter. We’ll kick your butt and then some.”

George was surprised at her words, thinking that no girl he knew would talk like that. It made him feel better when he noticed that she seemed to relax again. Awkward atmosphere lifted!

He decided to play her game, and raised his eyebrow sarcastically, “Oh? For a small girl, you talk a lot of smack. Let’s just see if that smack doesn’t get slammed back in your face with our victory.” She started to laugh so he laughed with her, enjoying the enlightenment.

“Here,” she said, tossing him a water bottle. It wasn’t opened so he thought that she bought it at the snack stand. George caught it with one hand-showing off-and gave her a confused look.

She shrugged, “I got two, and I’m definitely not gonna drink it, so take it.”

“Thanks,” he smiled. He saw her eyes soften a bit, like many other girls did when he smiled, but unlike the others-he didn’t mind. He strangely liked it.

“No problem.”

They both walked back to the game, where they could see people leaving the stands, signaling: game over. Walking through the gate they came out of, he noticed a bunch of girls in blue and watched as the girl walked towards them. Looking around himself, George saw his friend and started to walk over to him. He was smirking at him, for reasons that George was unaware of. His smirk turned into a determined smile that matched his eyes as he said: “Don’t worry, dude! We might’ve lost, but we’ll beat em at the tournament! Fer sure!” Gorge laughed at his loud voice. Sometimes Trent’s voice was loud, even if he didn’t mean it. However, George knew that his friend’s voice was loud for a reason this time. He knew that Trent shouted so all the Cornwall and Basshunter players could hear, and get fired up for the game. George fist-bumped Trent as if his yelled encouragement was their victory.

“See you at the tournament, Basshunter!” A familiar voice yelled.

George turned around to see the girl with her hands around her mouth. He smiled, giving her a thumbs-up as if to say: Definitely!

He watched her smile big before she turned and went over to where her friends stood, and chatted. Turning back to his friend, he looked at the bottle of water in his hand, the one that girl gave him.

“Ah, I see you got your water.” Trent stated as they started walking.

“Yeah…” He mumbled, not paying attention. How did she know that he wanted to buy a water bottle? A thought hit him as he turned around, but the girl and her friends were gone, probably through the other exit. I never caught her name…

“I saw that’s not all you got, dude.” George looked up at Trent, confused by his words.

“What do you mean?” Then it hit him. Trent was smirking at him when he came through the gate…with the girl next to him. “No, dude. Nothing happened.”

Shock took his face, “Nothing?”

George laughed, “Yeah. Nothing happened. We just talked that’s all. She’s a sweet girl and cheered me up.” His friend looked at him with an accusing look.

“And what, exactly, did you talk about?” George sighed, knowing that his friend won’t like the answer.

“Well…I left because that girl-Jamie, I think-threw herself onto me before I got in line, let alone got the water. I retreated to the soccer field…and then that girl came. We talked. And I told her that I wanted my best friend back… I told her that she died.”

“George…” Trent groaned.

“I know, I know. But she did ask, so I told her. I don’t know why, but it was easy to tell her. She’s real easy to talk to. Like I said, she’s a sweet girl.”

“Well, if she asked then I can’t argue,” Trent mumbled as the two exited into the parking lot, “but is she sweet, or are you just tryin to say that you like her? Do ya like her?”

George thought of that for a second. He didn’t know how to answer, because he truthfully didn’t know the answer himself. All he said was: “She’s a sweet girl…but I don’t know, man.” And with that, their discussion of the girl was over and they moved onto discussing strategies for the upcoming game, Basshunter’s revenge!

Once home, George peeled off his shirt and went to bed, dreaming. He could have dreamed of the sweet girl he had met, but no. He dreamed of something that he could never have, but wanted more than his own life. He would trade his own life for it.

He dreamed…of his little Abby.