Vixen

A Fox And A Bird

Clarke's shoes glinted in the light of the sun, a shiny reflectiveness rivaling That of a mirror's. His uniform was crisply pressed and buttoned neatly at the cuffs, the ends hugging his slim wrists. His tie, as always, rested slightly to the left.

"We can play soccer if you'd like!" He offered.

"I don't know; I think I should try my work again." Math class had been no worse than trying to learn all there was to know about space in the span of an hour. I had forgotten nearly all I'd been taught since ending up on the streets. No one had figured it out yet, then again I was the new kid, no one paid much attention to the new kid.

"I told you already!" Clarke laughed pulling my binder away from me. "I will help you later. We can sneak into my father's library tonight and I can teach you. Right now let's have fun."

"What if we get caught? He said we weren't supposed to poke around in there," I argued.

"My father says a lot of things. Now come on. Let's go play." Clarke set my school binder carefully on a bench before dragging me along to play.

"Girls can't play in skirts," Said Tommy, a snobby boy who believed he knew everything. He, in fact, did not.

"Girls can do what they want," Clarke shrugged picking up the soccer ball.

"Says who? She'll run and that skimpy thing will fly up and we'll all see her pink panties," Tommy snickered nudging his best friend who joined in with the laughter.

"They're black, dumb ass." Frowning I tugged up my skirt with defiance. "Pink is a stupid color."

"See Tommy? She's fine," Clarke smirked. "Now are you gonna play or get your butt handed to you for a second time?"

"I'll play," Tommy grumbled. Clarke jogged over to the center of the field and plopped the ball onto the ground.

There was bickering and much dispute as the teams were divided. "You get the girl Superman."

"Fine by me." Clark nodded. Rolling my shoulders I toed the grass with the other students. Clarke jumped up and down shaking his hands in anticipation. Tommy, a skinny and wiry kid was allowed to have possession of the ball first.

Clarke glanced over his shoulder in my direction, a smile on his face, and winked just as Tommy kicked the ball. With a reaction nearly impossible to see Clarke stuck out his leg stopping the ball in its tracks, effectively halting Tommy's push forward, and causing the boy to fall face first on the ground.

"Alright, show 'em how to shoot," Clarke whispered passing the ball in my direction. I didn't need any other motivation than to prove to Tommy how much of an idiot he really was.

The other kids didn't stand a chance. Feet quick and strides long I wove through them like a bird dodging tree branches. Life on the streets taught you to be faster, smarter, and stronger even if you didn't look like it.

The goal was in sight. A boy who I learned the name of, Jackson, stood ready to intercept my shot. One step, a stutter to the left, he dove at the fake, a solid kick. The ball arched beautifully over the goal line and right into the corner of the net. The ball fit snug in the back of the net as if it were a glove.

Clarke's team erupted in cheers, I doubted they'd ever scored so early in a game before.

"How in the- that's not fair! You must have cheated!" Tommy whined. Turning away from the goal I spotted him sitting in the grass with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed.