Bench Players (ON HIATUS)

Ten

CHAPTER DEDICATION: italian_food

A/N: Author's Note space has officially been REDUCED! :D Enjoyy... And I've dedicated YET ANOTHER chapter to italian_food because she says she's "addicted" to my story (dunno if it's true or not, but I thank her for believing so) because it made me very heppy. <3 tankoo, poopface. :')

- PBJ

/// T E N ///

** UNEDITED **

*Zella's POV*

*soon after Zella regained consciousness*

"I feel sick," I groaned, an ice pack held to my head by Marcie who was sat next to me with a tired expression on her face.

"Go home."

"I want to die," I continued, ignoring her words.

"Go home."

"I want-"

"Just go home, then!" Marcie snapped, cutting my sentence short.

"Yeah, but the gaaaame," I whined in protest, barely paying attention as the girls passed the ball to each other and bellowed orders from one end of the court to the other.

I heard a thump as someone dumped themselves next to me on the bench. I looked over to see Scott wearing a smug grin on his face, pretending to find the situation perfectly normal.

"Why is he here?" I growled, directing the question at Marcie despite the fact that she probably didn't know the answer to it.

"Don't ask me," Marcie replied and I noticed a faint pink in her cheeks. Wow, she's blushing before he's even looked her way.

"I'm here to investigate!"

I gave him a cold glare, but didn't reply. Marcie seemed eager, however, and giggled at his statement before asking, "Investigate what?"

"The conditions of this, poor, helpless soul."

I whipped my head around to shoot him another glare, but unfortunately the movement made my head hurt even more so I had to divert my attention back to the ice pack on my head.

"How are you feeling, weak one?" Scott asked with a low, supposedly wise-sounding tone and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"Ugh, get off of me," I grumbled and shrugged his arm off. Awh, that felt nice...

Jeez, teenage hormones, calm down.

"Wow, she's so rude. How do you put up with it, Mar-Mar?"

I froze. 

Mar-Mar? Are you kidding me right now? So, you just give nicknames to every girl you see, huh? Psh, Mar-Mar... I'll show you, Mar-Mar!

"Oh, I don't know. It's a talent of mine, really," Marcie replied, her cheeks a brighter shade of pink than before.

We saw Jazz walk up to us just then, a smirk pinned onto her pretty face. "Coach wants to have a chat with you, Zella."

I groaned, knowing what was to come next. The coach was going to give me another lecture and probably stuff a detention or two somewhere in there. My, being a basketball player was a pain in the ass sometimes.

I got up and gave Marcie a 'save me' look before walking away. I heard Jazz behind me as she said, "Scott, what are you doing here?"

"He's investigating." I laughed at Marcie's reply and approached the coach who was seated on the precious chair reserved specifically for his highness.