Game, Set, Match

{1}

Hiya!!! This is a BOYXBOY story!!!
Reminder that this story will include a lot of switching POV's not only for different chapters but within the chapters as well. There are two main characters in this and it will be a lot easier to understand (and more interesting) to see from both of their perspectives.
To indicate that there is a switch in POV I will put the name of the character's POV in bold italics (Nate or Chase)

There will be some sensitive and mature content in future chapters.

This is set in Britain but the places are made up.

Yes, I know game, set, match is for tennis but this is football (soccer)

That's pretty much everything I need to say. I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading<3
**************************

Nate

I hate him.

But it's not the type of hate when you want to see the other person dead. No. It's a different type of hate. When you don't know the reason why. When the thought of liking this person is so abstract to you that you can't help but hate them.

Chase. There he is. His usual two friends flocking around him as they make too much noise in the back corner of the hall. I, on the other hand, am surrounded by my many mates, some closer to me than others but friends nonetheless. That's what comes with popularity; an excessive amount of friends, the admiration of most of the school and a gorgeous girlfriend.

Chase places his graffitied skateboard on the seat next to him as if his reputation wasn't warning enough to stay away. I've never even spoken to the guy but I can't help but roll my eyes when I look at him. He lives up to the typical bad boy stereotype. He likes being feared.

But he doesn't scare me.

I can look past his military style buzz cut and stone cold green eyes. His muscular physique doesn't faze me. I know I could hold my own in a fight.

He is often the topic of conversation. Mentioning his name amongst a crowd is like setting fire to a forest. It spreads. The whole school knows about the fights he's been in; the girls he's hooked up with; the trouble he gets in and yet he is still some huge mystery that I'm not even going to attempt to try and figure out.

"Good morning year 12 and 13."

The loud chatter slowly decreases as our headteacher addresses the bored looking students in front of her. Ms O'Neil waits for us to respond with a "Good morning Ms O'Neil" but her only response is one student coughing in the second row.

"Well, I have called all of you here this morning for an announcement. After months of deliberation and seeing that the average grades of the students have increased, I am happy to announce that year 12 and year 13 can now start their own exclusive football team."

About fucking time.

The crowd of students erupt with cheers as Ms O'Neil tries to settle us down.

We've been asking for a football team ever since the younger students were able to get one 4 months ago and for 4 months Ms O'Neil has refused. Until now, that is.

"Tryouts will be held today after school and Mr Raymond has volunteered to be-"

Mr Raymond, one of the History teachers, swerves the microphone sitting on the stand in his direction so that his voice can be heard amongst the crowd.

"I will be going by Coach Ray now."

"Oh. Ok then. Coach Ray has volunteered to be the coach of the newly made football team. If you have any further questions, ask him. That concludes this assembly and as classes have already begun for the younger years, can you please all make your way quickly and quietly to your first lessons."