PK / PETER KAVINSKY

3.

This time I was a little more prepared for the whole lacrosse ordeal and had even brought in a portable charger to juice up my phone whilst working in the library. I'd got most of my Spanish work done and had read at least three more chapters of the sociology textbook before heading off to collect Sam.

Yet again the practice was overrunning but I'd left the library deliberately late so when I finally arrived at the pitch the goals had just been pushed back by the goalies and both big and small boys were filtering off the field. 

I'd come at a different angle today so I stood where the spectators would usually stand and therefore was in clear sight of all the players. Sam jogged over when he spotted me.

"How was practice?" I asked, pulling him in for a hug but carefully avoiding the grass stains on his team shirt.

"Great. I saved three goals, Peter said I'm going to be invincible by the time I'm in your grade." He replied breathlessly.

I found myself instinctively looking around for the tall brown-haired boy who had made the comment and caught him strolling over to us. He came up behind Sam and squeezed his shoulders.

"How are you doing little man?" Kavinsky asked in a gruff voice, smiling down at my brother who beamed back. 

"We meet again." He acknowledged me with a nod and a playful grin, his dimples becoming visible once more. "Sam's been telling me about Orange the cat and the holiday in France." He seemed to take great pleasure in showing off his inside knowledge about my personal life.

"He has now?" I pursed my lips at Sam who looked sheepish. Peter's smug expression changed completely and he looked earnestly at me,

"Hughes, come on, don't tell the poor guy off, I was the one asking cause I was...uh cause I was interested." His cheeks flushed slightly as he finished his sentence and he distractedly rubbed the back of his neck with a broad palm. 

"I'm sure." I arched my eyebrows at his comment. He gave me a grave look as if he was hurt by me doubting him, and I rolled my eyes.

"How was first day back anyway?" Peter asked me conversationally, regaining his energy.

"Fine. Loads of work already." I complained.

He ruffled his hair absent-mindedly and prodded his lacrosse stick into the ground,

"Me too. You do sociology right?" 

Where was all of this small talk coming from? I'd never seen Peter Kavinsky be anything but an overly loud, overly confident member of the jock squad but suddenly he was able to hold a perfectly nice conversation with me.

"Why all of the questions?" I asked suspiciously. His eyes brightened and he laughed somewhat self consciously,

"As I said. I'm interested."

"Well, if you're that keen to know..." I trailed off as I noticed Peter's eyes flicker off my face to focus on someone behind me.

"Hi baby!" Came Gen's high-pitched croon that made my heart sink, I couldn't bring myself to look at her. I knew though that she would be mincing her way over the field, squealing at the mud that would dirty her Ugg boots.

"Gen!" Peter answered with forced enthusiasm, swiftly letting go of Sam's shoulders. 

Forgetting we had been in the middle of talking, he jogged over to Gen where she (quite violently) grabbed his jersey to pull him in for an uncomfortably long kiss. I distracted Sam by pointing out a bit of mud on his face and hoped that he wasn't too disturbed by the 10 minute-long make-out sesh the two seemed to be having. Once she'd finished, Gen threw a contemptuous look at me.