Pack yourself a toothbrush, dear

chapter ten

Something miraculously devastating happened this evening and no, it wasn't Niall and Zayn getting into a unnecessarily huge fight because Zayn said something vaguely along the lines of "Pizza is kind of overrated" and Niall absolutely had to go in depth about how Pizza is humanity's only common culture and how the World War Three would start not over the international water crisis or over the fact that an Oompa Loompa is the head of United States, but over pizza.

That did happen, but something beyond that happened as well and not to be extra or anything, but I do feel like my entire life has changed before my very eyes and we can never go back from this moment.

This is not a click bait.  

After the band announcement, we all mutually decided to play a game of footie to keep ourselves warm because it was practically freezing outside and even the fire faltered against the bone chilling northern winds. It was a pretty great idea because, not to be a bragger, but I played for Doncaster Rovers in college and football was my thing. The only reason I had to quit was because it took up a great fraction of my time, which in turn, made me miss my assignment due dates. So, if I had to pull up a party trick, football was my go to thing. Not that they had to know any of this.

I was perfectly fine with them thinking I was just extra ordinarily talented at every mortal activity even without being aware of it.

We all wrote our names on small chits and tosses them inside Niall's beanie and Liam picked up and read out the first four names, which would consist of the first team. My team consisted of Perrie, Camille, Zayn and I. The rest of them formed an alliance with Harry being their goal keeper. And everything was going quite well. In the first hour, our team was winning by six goals and five of them were scored by me, again I don't mean to brag. By the second hour, both teams were tied with the score of eleven each. And now, it was my turn to be in the limelight and be the hero.

Which, in regards to footie, I am. 

The ball was with me and I had successfully almost reached the goal post without losing it to Liam or Niall. I was just about to kick the ball, my aim and angle were both decided, and score the winning goal when Camille decided randomly to steal my limelight and score the final goal. She charged towards me diagonally and here's where everything seemingly turned into slow motion. Instead of hitting the ball, her leg raised up to me and kicked me right across my shin. Firstly, how bad of a motor co ordination you should have to acquire to kick a person's shin, instead of a ball; how weak is your depth perception and object identification game ? 

Secondly, the pain was unbearable. It felt like stubbing your toe on the edge of the furniture over and over again until it was just pain, sharp white pain that took over your mind and you couldn't even think straight. I instantly found myself in the grass, rolling around to curb the insane amount of pain biting at me leg. Tears criss-crossed their way across my face even before the realization of what hurt, took over my senses. 

Fuck, it felt like my leg was on fire. Agony, plain agony ran down my muscles. I bit down on my inner cheek to hold back bloodcurdling screams that choked my throat. Was she planning to kick that ball upto Mars ? This is what happens when one's technique is abominably wrong. 

"Get ice, now !" I heard Harry scream from the other end of the field. As the others approached me slowly, with caution, I saw Harry sprint like Usain Bolt from his position. He was merely a blur rushing towards me. My eyes were hardly even open at that point, but it was enough for me to witness the hardness of Harry's jaw and the apparent anger that shrouded his face. His face bore an expression similar to that of a tiger that's about to pounce on its prey. I shuddered at the thought of how furious he might even be.