*currently editing*
Two boys. Two different schools. One game. One goal.
Life was easy when you were considered high school royalty but when you get rivalry on the field, things get a little interesting.
Connor Taylor went to Northshore. Dakota Ande...
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"i'm gonna be a people-person in a room of people-people, i'ma keep on running this shit, i'ma be the kid for the win, let the games begin"
let the games begin • ajr
***
The day was only halfway through and I'd already had a headache since first period.
High noon had set in with the sun glowering down on my face where I sat by the classroom window. After listening to my biology teacher torturously drag on about our upcoming assessments and the planned syllabus, she assigned us work sheets that we had to complete in groups. The problem? I despised working in groups.
Things wouldn't be so bad if Scott and Trent were in this class. Right then, I envied their shared I.T class across campus. Group work wouldn't be so frustrating if I had at least one of my friends here. Being forced to work with people who didn't care about their work or plagiarised the answers was a waste of my time.
"So, Connor," Declan, a neutral friend of mine, leaned across his desk in my direction. "Friday night. Party at yours? I got a cousin who can hook us up." He made a smoking gesture, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I flicked my pen in rhythm against my notebook. My right knee bounced under the table. "Doubt it, man. I'm lucky I'm even allowed people near the fish tank after our last win."
Declan burst out laughing at the reference. "I remember that! That was an epic prank!"
"Not for my mum's prized Royal Blue." I muttered under my breath. Turning away, I put my head down. "Declan, I really want to finish this sheet, okay?"
"Connor," came a soprano drawl from my left, followed by the smack of gum. I turned to see Holly perched cross-legged on a table-top surrounded by her group of friends. A pen dangled loosely between her fingers as she absentmindedly glanced over the worksheet before her. "What'd you get for question three?"
Sighing, I explained to her the process of working out the equation, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes and inform the brunette that she should be up to the last page by now and not the first.
Class ended thirty-five minutes later. I hightailed out the door, grateful for being saved by the bell just as Declan began to get on to the topic of weekend plans again.
It wasn't that I had no interest in spending time with my friends; it was their utter disregard for anything that wasn't body shots, beer pong or vacant back bedrooms with dim lighting. Half the guys in Biology class were on the team and if they flunked their school work, Coach would suspend them. I wouldn't have my senior championship and last chance to beat Dakota stolen from me by something as trivial as osmosis processes or cell reproduction.
Sunshine reflected off the metal tables as I made my way outside. The warm weather had students piling into the courtyard to bask in the sun for the lunch hour. I happily abandoned the resounding slam of locker doors and shoes squeaking on tiles for the fresh air of late summer.
