Love Scarced

✮ Chapter 5

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Candice's POV

"Drake."

"Uhmn?"

"Will you marry me?"

"You don't just ask someone with that question, Candice."

"I'm asking 'you'."

"I don't know... I'm too young for commitment."

"I can wait for you."

"Okay then."

"So, will you marry me, when the right time comes?"

"I will be glad to," said the seven year old Drake. He poked the tip of Candice's cute nose and she let out a small, happy chuckle.

Drake was too far away to look at me or even notice me, but even from my distance, I still waved my hand in the air and cheered for him. I was drawn to him by some deep desire in me that I couldn't control.

He was standing on the starting block. His hands were on his hips as he radiated tranquil, confident, and serious look. Two female students walked by the entrance, stealing glances at him, one of them almost missed her step as they passed by.

"In position!" Coach Miller blew his whistle and immediately Drake and the other six varsities placed their one foot in front of the other. They crouched down and tucked their head close to their knees, gripping on the front of the blocks.

The coach blew his whistle again and Drake threw his arms forward as he pushed off. And there he goes. All the mundane worries of his life had been muted and all there was to know about was this moment. In one adrenaline fueled leap into the water with nothing but held air in his lungs, Drake was gone. He loved swimming so much and he would become a total different person when under water. That passion in him made him more attractive.

"Just sit down, Cee. And please, stop waving your hands."

Looking down at Becca through false eyelashes, I said to her dreamily, "Why is everything about him so hot? It's unfair to everyone else."

She struggled to find something to say. She sighed and dropped the topic, reaching out a hand to me. "Come on," she requested. I took her hand and she pulled me down to sit beside her on the bleachers.

"Could you please stop doodling on your notes and appreciate those men in swimming trunks?"

"My heart now belongs to science."

"Science can not kiss you."

"I will make a robot someday."

"Gross! Why am I even friends with you?"

True. I didn't know why or how I became close friends with Becca. Four months already passed and I was hoping to make more friends in school, but then all kids would just disappoint me. Some girls were too timid to say a word, some too noisy, others were video gamers, porn star wannabes, and most of them were plastics. FYI, I hate plastics the most.

We hung out and got to know each other. And then maybe, it was just one of the things that would happen to you unexpectedly, like spellbound. You would become attached to one person and then one day when you wake up, you would actually call her a 'bestie.'

"Aw!" I scowled from the stinging pain. Becca pinched me in the arm harshly that a red line started to form on my skin and appeared to be swollen.

I grabbed a chunk of her hair and then pulled it roughly, enough to yank her head and make her yelp in pain.

"Bleep!"

I hurriedly ran towards the exit, making my way to the open field. Becca ran after me like a mad man. I regretted instantly because I was wearing a two-inch wedge sandals and skinny jeans.

When I looked back, Becca was already a few feet away from me. My eyes widened as she suddenly launched at me and we both went crashing the ground. She was pinning me like an Amazon gorilla.

"Get off me, mama bear!"

"Bear?" She suddenly transformed to an MMA fighter and she did 'ground and pound' me.

And then it happened; I suddenly felt the rumbling of gas inside my tummy, trying to find its way out. That glorious moment of liberation arrived. I farted it out--- loud and proud. Becca instantly moved away and she stumbled, tumbling on the ground.

Our lips curled involuntarily, and we fought back hard as our cheeks swelled with pressure, but it was no use. We both erupted in laughing. It took our breaths away as tears gathered in the corners of our eyes. I slapped the ground repeatedly.

I couldn't stop. My breath came in quick gasps between my unstoppable giggles. A heavy hand tapped on my shoulders and I turned my head to see who it was coming from, giggles still escaping my mouth. I gulped down immediately when I realized who it was, the football team coach.

He cleared his throat and glared at us. The only thing that moved was his masticating jaw, working the yellow whistle around his large set of teeth. His eyes were deep and fixed, so much so that it was as if he was no longer able to move his eyeballs, like they'd rusted into place.

Becca visibly wilted before his first clipped word was uttered.  "What are you two doing? Do you realize you're in the middle of our practice?"

"We're very sorry, sir," said Becca, standing up abruptly and bowing her head.

I, on the other hand, stood up chuckling, tapping his chest. "Oh, please, chill! Do you actually think your team will win this season?"

He never looked at any of the rest of the students with surprised expression, except me, never blinking. Then he pulled up his long arms and placed them on his hips, his eyes never left my face. Becca would attempt to grab my arm from time to time in an attempt to rescue me. I calmly waited for Coach Taylor's response.

"You'll see, little girl. You'll see," he warned. He pulled the whistle that was hanging from his neck forcibly and right in front of us, he crashed it with his bare hand. "We will crash the Red Giants!" he yelled.

Coach Taylor threw the flattened whistle and turned his back. He walked back to his team with squared shoulders. He raised his right hand on the air and shouted, "Blue Tritons! Are we ready for some action?"

"We're back to fight with pride! So step aside! We're back to fight with all our might! Get out of the way, because today is the day! We will put you away!" Everyone from their team started chanting. Everyone including those who were tying their shoes, stretching, jogging on place, and texting. Everyone of them literally stopped from what they were doing. Coach Taylor gathered them up for another practice plan and Becca and I walked out of the field immediately.

"Are you out of your mind?" Becca held me in the arm and said, "no one talks like that to Coach Taylor! You're crazier than I thought, Cee."

"Mom is scarier when she's angry." I put my arms around Becca's shoulders, smiling.

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