I Promise

29

I quickly change, making sure my shirt is as low as it can be to cover my arms, and then I do my regular drills, and then we do some group drills. There is a game today, and we have to get ready because it starts soon. Like always, Cassidy, our team captain, throws words of encouragement at as we do the drills. We're one of the best teams out there, so Coach Nobelton expects us to win.

As we line up for the referees to check for jewelry and inspect our cleats, I take a deep breath and hope that the makeup I put on my cheek won't melt away like some wax figurine from the heat and my sweat. We do our team huddle and Cassidy delivers a short speech, encouraging us to be calm and not act recklessly during the game. We all cheer and walk out onto the field. I smile at Scarlett as we head to our positions; we're not seniors and yet we're on the starting lineup.

I try to brush the jitters of the first game away by jogging in my spot, but I can't help but notice how menacing the girls look as they enter their side of the field. I bite my lip and tighten my ponytail, making sure not to brush against my bruise.

And just like that, the game starts. I'm not playing my best, but it's enough for Coach Nobelton to not pay attention to me because I haven't made a mistake yet. I get a couple shots on net, and both of them go in. I hear the students yelling like crazy from the bleachers, but I just feel like a ghost as I walk past my teammates, who congratulate me with hugs and slaps on the back. Every slap I get makes me wince because I'm reminded of my dad. I try to not pay too much attention because I know my teammates are just doing it for encouragement. They don't know what happened to me, and I'd endure a few slaps on the back than tell everyone my dad had hit me.

The game continues, and I can't help but notice that one girl from the opposite team is constantly trying to trip me or shove me. It's getting on my nerves, and I almost want to confront her about it, but I don't want to start a fight. She finally ends up fouling me by tripping me, and I can't help but groan as I get up. I look at her piercing gaze, like she's daring for a challenge. I say nothing as I take the shot and send it to Scarlett, who sends it right in the net.

I offer the girl a wicked smile, and that seems to set her off because she walks up to me.

"Wipe the smile off of your face," she spits at me. I shrug and offer her another smile.

"Can't help it," I reply.

The game goes on, and I'm struggling to pay attention to the game because that girl is steaming like a freight train. It almost makes me laugh because she looks so comical. As half time nears and we take a break, I move to the other side of the field.

"Look at her; she walks like she own the whole fucking field," I hear a voice behind me. Sure enough, the girl with the cold stare is talking to her teammate, loud enough for me to hear. I'm guessing that's her intention.

I turn around and they walk towards me, sauntering like some sort of asps ready to strike, right at their target. With my great luck, it's me.

"Look, I don't want to start trouble here. I'm just playing the game," I say defensively. I even raise my arms in the air to make myself seem less menacing. I don't want to start a feud or a fight, so I try to maintain my cool. And that's when I realize that the sleeve of my shirt went a little too high, and my arm is visible. My bruises are visible.

When the two girls notice, they widen their eyes a bit, but the one with the glare smirks.

"Look at you, all bruised up. What exactly were you doing before the game, huh?" she asks; her tone has a sickly sweet note to it.

I quickly lower the sleeve of my shirt.

"That's none of your business," I spit out. I'm not surprised to hear my voice take on a very sharp edge. The girl, whose name I'm pretty sure is Bridget, raises her eyebrows.

"Oh please, it's visible like night and day. Someone's acting a bit defensive now. Don't act like you don't know what were thinking. Who got a little rough with you? Your boyfriend?" she asks, smiling like a venomous snake.

I grit my teeth and clench my fists in balls. "Don't start with that," I hiss at her, and I'm nearing her face. She has no idea what I just went through, and for her mind to think that I got the bruises voluntarily - it disgusts me.

"No," she begins. "No, it wasn't your boyfriend. Probably just some dude you found on the street since you're clearly desperate. What else did he give you besides those bruises?" she asks, snickering at her own comment.

But her smile quickly falters because I explode on her. 

Sorry for the delay, I am right here, posting again. I haven't forgotten. 

Well, sort of haven't forgotten. ;)

Also, no gif for today. Why? I was going to use a mean girls gif where Regina plays lacrosse, but the file was too big. And I am too lazy to pick another one because if it's not that gif, then there will be no gif at all. 

Okay. I'm done now. 

Yours, 

FanaticWriter15