All Lights On Us

C6: Springfield

Bishop

I stare down at Klara's sleeping form. I got up an hour ago to shower and prepare for school.

Today was the big day. The day we travel to try and beat Springfield in their own territory. We're the top team in the league and everyone knows that it's between them and us for the title. We'll play against other teams in-between this Springfield game.

Our school is hosting the championship game, no matter if we're in it or not. But we'll make it. And I have no doubt that Springfield will as well.

I promised Klara last night that I would wake her up early to give her time to get ready at home. It pains me to wake her up, but I do.

Rubbing my hands together, I launch a slap onto her ass. She startles awake and turns over to glare at me. 

"Get up, we need to head to your place," I rip the blankets off the bed when she tries to turn back over. "I mean it, come on. I can't be late, they'll be forced to bench their star quarterback." 

She scoffs but rolls out of bed. I pat my pockets to make sure I have my wallet and keys. Klara throws on her shorts and we head out to the jeep. 

We're almost to her house when she asks, "Are you nervous for tonight?" 

Signalling to make a right turn, I shake my head. "There's no point in letting myself be nervous. Football is just as much a mental game as it is physical."

She slowly nods, "That makes sense. I love watching football."

Her confession surprises me. I had never seen her at a game. 

"I have a little place at the stadium where I hide and watch. I'm able to yell without drawing attention to myself," she shrugs. 

Nodding slowly, I pull into her driveway next to her mother's beat up silver grande dam. Klara opens the front door and I follow her through.

She screeches. My hand moves to where my gun is safely stored against my side. I see a flash of ass before Frank bolts up from the couch and tugs his pants up from his ankles. Klara's mother also hops up and smooths her dress down. My eye catches on a small dainty piece of fabric on the coffee table.

Klara balks. 

"Can I not walk into this house with out leaving with some sort of wound? My eyes!" She clutches her forehead. 

"You haven't been here," Barb defends herself. "You don't want to listen to me, you don't want to tell me where and what you've been doing. This is my house, if you want to live under this roof, you'll follow the rules."

Barb glances at Frank. Frank smiles and nods at Barb. Mother fucker. 

Klara looks at a loss for words, but ends up shaking her head and grabbing my hand. 

"I don't have time for this, I need to get ready for school," she starts dragging me to the stairs.

"Not with him you don't," Barb rushes forward. "No boys allowed in your room."

I think I see steam stream from Klara's ears. She opens her mouth, probably about to tell her mother just how she feels about her rules, but I squeeze her hand and release it. 

"Just go," I hand her the bag I was carrying. "Put this on, I'll be down here waiting."

Klara eyes the bag and her eyes light up. Ah, so she knows. She takes the steps two at a time.  

Crossing my arms, I turn to stare Frank down. 

"Cade, right?" Barb twists her hands in her dress, "How old are you, exactly?