Nathaniel Jean's Senior Year

2: Nathaniel Jean's Soft Spot

A/N: I just wanna add a quick disclaimer and make it known that this story doesn't reflect my religious beliefs or opinions at all. The setting of this story is a very Catholic town, so it only makes sense that Catholicism plays a part in the characters' lives. However, nothing said in this story is meant to disrespect the Catholic religion or push it on anybody who doesn't identify with that belief system. Any jokes made about the way Catholics in the community behave are directed towards the people, not the religion itself, and I am in no way trying to brand all Catholics as acting these ways. These people just happen to be Catholic and assholes. This particular story is simply describing this particular town in which these particular people act this particular way.

All religious beliefs (or lack thereof) should be respected and considered valid, so for the love of god please don't do the annoying thing that I see in so many Wattpad stories where you get into arguments in the comments with other readers over your opinions. It's just a story, guys.

Alright that's it lmao enjoy

With the next week came the first practices—Monday through Friday, from three to six—and the true start of the soccer season. As much as I loved soccer, this part of the year was usually hell, because I also had club practice from seven to nine on Mondays and Wednesdays. In other words, my life was about to become exhausting.

     One good thing came from the rigorous schedule, though. I realized after that first week that with school practice, club practice, and homework, I was so tired by the end of the day that I fell into a long sleep each night. I hardly had time to wallow in my self pity.

    And I needed the distraction. Ever since the start of senior year, it was as if Lucas Morgan was everywhere.

    We had no classes together—thank god—yet we seemed to pass each other at least once between each period. I tried to avert my gaze whenever he was within ten feet, but the effort was in vain. Not because I couldn't resist looking at him when he was nearby—I wasn't that weak. No, it turned out that my friends would be the banes of my existence. For whatever petty reason, they found it absolutely necessary to stop Lucas in the middle of the hallway and harass him for a solid thirty seconds every single time they saw him until  he got bored and walked around them.

    Then, at around two forty-five each afternoon, I'd see Lucas again in the locker room. After that, I'd be subject to the view of him stretching and running and dribbling nonstop for the next three hours. None of the boys even bothered him during practice  anymore, after the coach yelled at Tyler for mistreating a teammate.

     At six o'clock sharp, we'd be back in the locker rooms, and I'd have to try my absolute hardest not to look as he changed, or to feel guilty as I saw Shawn leave without him. I'd been tempted more than once to offer Lucas a ride, and the thought that I was starting to go soft for the boy only made me angrier.

     So yes, the distraction was very much appreciated. I would realize, though, at the beginning of the third week of school, that I couldn't stay distracted forever.

That Monday, all of the boys rushed out of the locker rooms as soon as they'd grabbed their items, hoping to beat the rain that was obviously coming; the sky had been growing darker and darker all day, and the air was disgustingly humid. Everybody except for me, because I was a stubborn idiot who refused to step foot in my car without showering first.

     Naturally, as luck would have it in my oh-so-cliche life, I found myself joined with unwanted company when I emerged from the shower.

    "Good job on the field today."