*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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"sometimes I wish I was a beautiful machine so I could resist your kiss and not cry when you're mean"
lana del rey
***
Monday came around with a vengeance. Rain was bucketing down from a sky so black that it could almost be night. Traffic was heavy getting to school due to the weather, and I had exam preparation for Maths in second period and couldn't find my notebook anywhere.
"Shit." I cursed as I rifled through my bag. "Where is it?"
"Connor!"
My head snapped up at the sound of voices. Scott and Trent were rushing down the hall toward me, ignoring the way a teacher told them to slow down.
"Have you seen it?" Scott panted as he came to a crashing halt beside me, Trent coming up on my other side. Scott held his phone in a death grip.
"Seen what?" I asked, still focused on finding my notebook.
"The video from Dakota's party on Friday night. It's all anyone is talking about."
I averted my gaze so he wouldn't see my surprise. "Why would I know anything about that?"
"Because he talks about you."
"What?" I abandoned my search in favour of grabbing Scott's phone and hitting Play on the video queued up.
Someone had livestreamed parts of the night on Instagram and uploaded it to their reels. There were clips of people doing shots and two girls each shot-gunning a beer can, but the main video was the longest.
"Wait, not here." Trent gently took my arm and moved us into the alcove of a classroom. "It's not something you'll want to react to with people around."
"Is it bad?"
Trent shook his head. "He's drunk, that much is obvious. And he rambles on quite a bit. But now that we know what's going on between you, there's no denying he's talking about you."
I took a deep breath and played the video.
Dakota appeared in the centre of the screen, standing on what appeared to be a coffee table and swaying quite heavily with a beer in his hand. And boy, he was wasted.
"I, Dakota Anderson, am bisexual!" he chorused to a room full of rowdy teenagers.
"Everyone already knows that." I said. "He came out years ago."
"Keep watching." Trent said.
The video played on as Scott, Trent and I stood huddled around the phone. I turned the volume down to its lowest setting to afford a bit of privacy from eavesdroppers.
