After flying overseas to enroll in a prestigious boarding school, Blake Graham assumes that she can finally catch a break.
Instead, she encounters the boy who she fought with almost every day as a child.
After moving back to England, then over to...
I didn't even proofread this, I'm so sorry! I've just been really really busy!
Clark's POV
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"-and this dude, he's a senior. And I'm a freshman- so that means there are either gonna be two outcomes: A new cool senior friend or an ass beating." Dean explained as we ate our dinner, "So this guy comes up to me, and he has this Irish accent. He doesn't beat me up, but he asks these questions about soccer-"
"Football!"
"-and I tell him, because I'm scared of this guy. He apparently saw me juggling a ball during my free period. He asks if I played soccer, and I just say yeah. He asked about club and I told him about doing Premier for eight years. Next thing I know he's saying to come to tryouts. Apparently I'm the first freshman to make varsity." My little brother shrugged, halfheartedly.
Dean had been telling our lot about the story on how he made his school's football team. Dean was very different compared to me. He looked different, had a different accent, and socialized differently. Dean preferred solitude, schoolwork, and silence.
Back when we lived in New York, Dean didn't have friends and he seemed to continue that tradition at his boarding school.
The reason as to why we attend different schools isn't too complicated. It was partially Dean's decision and partially our father's. Dean didn't want to live in my shadow or be known as 'Clark's baby brother' and our father wanted Dean to take advantage of Kingswood's prestigious prelaw program.
So back to dinner, we had all decided to go and get 'the best falafel in the United Kingdom' (as Dean had put it), at some run down restaurant. The five of us, looking as out of place as ever, piled into a corner table. I had sat in between Graham and Dean, and across from Nico and Luca.
As soon as we had gotten there, the waiter had eyed us suspiciously. After noticing Nico's obnoxious Gucci headband and Luca's Burberry sweater, he could tell that this wasn't our normal kind of eating establishment. But as soon as the man saw Dean, a grin appeared on his face.
"Dean! Back so soon?" The older man patted Dean on the back fondly. Dean, who rarely ever talked to people other than us five (plus our family), began to excitedly converse. He introduced us to the man, Hassan, and told us that he's been going to this place thrice a week since he first started at Kingswood.
Now we were eating, and Dean had been proven correct. The falafel was truly amazing. So back to our conversation.
"So what position do they have you doing right now?" Nico asked, through a mouthful of Pita.
"They've been moving me around lately, but I think they're setting me up on offense. I think I'll be first line's striker tomorrow." Dean slid a piece of paper to Blake.
Blake and Dean had been scribbling something on that paper for the past three minutes, and I finally had gotten a look at what was on it. Tic-Tac-Toe.
