Blurred Sentimentality

Time (Ch. 17)

A/N: You'll know who that is by the end of this chapter ;)

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Olivia

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out.

"What are you doing here?" Chaz looked at me with a mix of many expressions. -none of them were good.

"Surprise!" Pablo Lucentio laughed. "Sit down, Miss Oakley." He motioned at the chair in front of Chaz's.

I went there and sat down, putting my bag next to me awkwardly.

"Mr Carter will train you."

"What?!" Chaz and I shouted in unison.

"Isn't it great?" He laughed again. "How long do you want it for?"

Chaz looked at me, his jaw to the floor.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He went back to the angry him.

"I didn't know."

"The whole team thing."

"Well, if you stopped being so mad the whole time for god-knows-what and tried to start a conversation, you would've knew." I raised my voice.

"Calm down, kids. You can decide your timings now."

Chaz groaned and looked away. He rested his back on the leather seat and pondered for a few seconds.

"Why don't you want to train me anyways? Because I'm too bad?" I raised my eyebrows, and that got his eyes to meet mines again.

"No I just- I don't know." He huffed. "For how long do you want to train?"

"Depends.." I said.

"You can start by two hours today, but it'll increase as the challenges and match get closer." Mr Lucentio said.

Great. Now I have two hours in my routine with Chaz.

"Okay." I huffed.

"You can start now, I need to make an important call."

Chaz got up immediately and left the room. I followed him.

"What's wrong with you? Can you calm down? Please?" I caught up with him and tried to walk by his side. He was a head taller than me and his steps were big and fast.

He stopped when we reached the field, and I was already panting.

"What happened to you?" I yelled.

He sighed as he ran his fingers through his dark locks.

"Okay. Let's start training." He said in the most uninterested voice ever.

"No I won't start if my coach is such an ass the whole time. Tell me what's wrong. Do you have a mental illness or something? I should know. I'd feel bad for yelling at a mentally ill patient."

He got silent and looked at me, his thick, dark eyebrows were (as always) furrowed.

"Forget it." I sighed and put my bag down. "You're so complicated."

"Well, it's not easy for me too. Being complicated doesn't come by choice." He mimicked me at the word 'complicated'.

"You can talk about it..." I said quietly.

"Pppft." He gave a mocking laugh, even though it was fake, It was nice to see his dimples again.

He went to the side of the spacious field to get a football, and I admired the huge field. Perfectly cut green grass, white and blue seats dispersed in a nice pattern on all sides, two brand-new nets and numerous, big white exit doors.