✧ Obsessed™ » kellic au [BOOK ONE]

32. Coach Mc'Coy is a massive Cow Turd

why do people think this story is so funny omg 

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Pov: Mike.

I want to die. No, I want to jump off a fucking bridge and never be seen again. The embarrassment I just had to fucking cause my self is an understatement of the lamest thing one could possibly do. I should be in the world record books, titled as The Worlds Biggest Dumb-ass, because honestly, that is what I am.   

Tay stayed over last night, and when I woke up, how was I supposed to know she'd gone outside for an early morning cigarette?

Being the utterly drowsy person I am each morning, I slouched down the spiral staircase of my cozy home and with tired eyes, everything was blurry.

A light shining from the kitchen told me someone was in there, and Tay always cooks me breakfast, so obviously, I thought she was the one frying bacon and eggs on the butter filled pan.   

 

I wrapped my arms around her slim stomach, and didn't flounder to notice how tall Tay had suddenly become. I was basically still half asleep, after all. Placing an affectionate kiss in the crook of her neck, with my eyes closing, I purred against her shivering skin which was frozen in shock, "Morning, baby."   

 

"U-uh, Mike?" What? This isn't Tay, the realization poured through my head. And then, the daunting happened. My focus suddenly adjusting, I noticed it wasn't Tay I held in my arms, but Tony instead.

I fucking hate everything about my life. And the fact that I enjoyed the feeling of my lips placed on Tony's neck more than my continuous make out sessions with my own, dwarf like girlfriend, kind of sucks.

Especially when Tay is so clearly head over heels for me, I mean, who wouldn't be?

Especially, since over the past while, I think I may have gained a slight crush on the moderately shorter fellow Hispanic, and now that it was definitely confirmed, I suddenly feel sick at the fact Tony is probably now thinking I'm the biggest creeper in the world. 

Nice going, Mike, you dumb fuck.

Pov: Vic.

A piercing, crisp sound of Coach Mc’Coy’s well famous whistle practically defending me, [I’m certain he liked to do this sort of stuff on purpose] I cringed from the loudness. Currently, it was a Monday, first period, which today, consisted of the little subject known as P h y s i c a l  E d u c a t i o n . Or, in other words, my most despised subject. Maths, I was good at. English, oh what a breeze. Science, bring it on! But anything to do with soccer balls or climbing ropes, well, you may as well screw me and bury my head in the sand.

What made things worse, was Kellin shared this class with me. How splendid, am I right? No, I am most certainly not correct in the slightest sense, because Kellin Quinn makes my skin crawl. Always flirting, or, trying to flirt with me, I wonder when he's going to just, give up already.