✧ Obsessed™ » kellic au [BOOK ONE]

43. Basketball, poems, and awkward boners

✿ for those of you who can't see chapter 42, wattpad has marked it private for reasons i'll never know. (someone previously commented that it was because they haven't embraced their inner homo and i laughed) again, the only way to view it is if you follow me. 

✿ -edit- recently, there have been people who have followed me and, still, haven't been able to see the private chapters. so, if that happens to you, simply click on the link at the end of my bio. it will take you to my tumblr page, where all you'll have to do is scroll down until you find the chapter you're looking for. [i'm not doing the email thing anymore, it get's irritating having to send out various emails to people, so therefor the tumblr idea was generated. should have thought of it sooner, really.]

✿ oh! and i changed my mind for this very last scene, folks! instead of graduation i wrote something completely different. sorry if you're disappointed, i just liked this idea a wee bit more, thought it'd be funner to write also. 

warning: there is smut contained within this chapter, i'll put it in bold to signal where it starts and ends, in case your mind is still innocent and you'd rather not corrupt it. 

Pov: Kellin.

"One, two, three."

The voice of Coach washed over us in its husky refinement, after he'd blown a sharp note of his usual whistle. The sun blared down on our sun-screen infected skin, and I found myself questioning why the weather in Summershill was so damn bi-polar.

It was Monday afternoon, the last day of school had been over and done with. Although, we still had to suffer a torturous session of football practise. Haven't any idea why, as their aren't any games coming up. I suppose coach just wanted to train us, one last time. How sweet of him. 

"Four, five, six."

That, or he simply loved the pure enjoyment of watching our faces contort in discomfort and redness from the excessive warm ups he always seemed to lay onto the team. To start us off, coach had wanted us to run a few laps of the oval. Not walk, not jog, run. If he caught us going any slower than a cheetah, we'd be in for it. So, after making us run (Not walk, not jog, run.) we weren't even allowed so much as a water brake, as he'd told us all to drop to the floor and give him 100 push-ups.

Fuck me, right?

 

"Seven, eight, nine-- Come on, you wuss-pipes! More enthusiasm!"  But honestly, coach, how are we supposed to be enthusiastic if our hearts are about to give out? I swear to fucking God, why doesn't he get off his fat hairy butt and give this shit a go? 

My gaze was locked on the narrow strands of the green grass, so I couldn't see the people approaching, but I could tell they were coming nigh with the sounds of their shoes crumbling the leaves beneath them. I wasn't sure who they were, until I heard, against the tiniest amusement, the soft voice of who else, but Vic.

"Hey, boys. Having fun?" My neck tilted to allow myself a peek at where he stood, Alan and Oli sprawled a bit behind him. My throat, lightly relieving pants of air, felt the need to pardon an irritated grunt.