[Oliver- O. Red- R]
O: Hey, how are you feeling?
R: Better, thanks
O: Until next time
R: Lets not get into this.
R: So, I heard you have your science resits soon?
O: Yeah, 21st April
R: I'll give you a hand with revising if you want
O: That would be great.
R: After school? Library?
O: Sounds good
Then a call comes through from Liam.
"Hey,"
"What?"
"I'm running to practice want to join me,"
"Sure, I'll come to yours," I say, hanging up and slipping on my trainers before shutting the door just as my mum pulls up with bundles of fabric stuffed into a box.
"Hey, darling," she says, leaving a chaste kiss on my cheek, I smile at her bubbly nature even now.
"I'm going to be late," I chuckle, she rolls her eyes and shoves the box bustling with clothes in my hand before rummaging in her handbag for her keys, I sigh and grab mine from my recently opened bag dangling them in her facebefore opening the door.
"You're an absolute darling," she fusses, leaning over, giving me another kiss, "Em is coming round tonight so please be home on time,"
"Aren't I always?" I tease, she hums in disapproval but smiles and ruffles my hair before entering the house as I start jogging to Liams which is only a few streets away. I find him standing already in his gear with a Nike jacket zipped up to his chin.
"It's fucking freezing and you take your time," he mutters, scuffing his foot in the gravel slightly.
"You could have waited inside," I point out.
"Nathan's got the keys," he scowls bitterly, I tip my head back and laugh as we jog towards the Tube station, "Shut up," he grumbles, stamping in a puddle harder than necessary to wind me up.
We arrive at the training ground as the sun begins to set between the dimmed street lights as Coach Martin shouts at the team to change quicker and pick up the pace changing before he makes us do laps around the pitch.
"He's cheery," I state.
"Isn't he always?" Bram spites, turning with a raised eyebrow.
"Cassell, you have just volunteered yourself for three laps," Coach smiles, I snigger subtly, "Care to join him, Chapman,"
"No, Coach," I chorus, he nods satisfied as we begin to filter out of the changing room and onto the pitch, it was beginning to drizzle with rain by this point, I could feel my boots slipping ever so slightly against the mudding grass.
"Split for practice," Coach bellows in his annoyingly warm fleece, we divide and begin training but all amongst the sprinting, defence training, scrum practice my mind was filled with one particular freckled, spectacled, blonde boy.
YOU ARE READING
Figuring You Out
Teen FictionA story of love, friendship, scholarship and the strangest kind of bravery. Oliver is the typical school jock; attractive, cheeky, clever and a player of a tough rugby team. But he has one secret that threatens to ruin him; he's gay. His family, be...
