Comfy Closets

2|| Captain Attraction

Soccer. It’s what I lived for on most days. The rush of joy I’d get every time my cleats touched the ball – man, it was amazing. I’ve loved that feeling since I was a kid, and the gift of it was that it’s helped me in leaps and bounds in other aspects too.

My introverted personality would disappear once I was on the field and the metaphorical shell I was usually in was no longer needed there. Just for a couple of hours, I wasn’t shy or anxious. I was confident, determined, and passionate. Running with the ball at my feet seemed to have that magical effect on me.

But with such a special thing I got to experience every other day, something had to mar it. And unfortunately, I brought that unpleasantness onto myself.

Wednesday was a soccer practise day, with the odd day off if something came up. But what made it special, and horrible, was the last class I had on the Wednesday, right before practice.

Chemistry. If I had to choose a subject to hate, it’d be that. But every time, in that particular time of the whole week, I’d suffer the most. I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t finish work – I’d just be a mess staring at the clock, waiting for the torture to end.

Like right now. My forehead rested on the table as I stared blankly at the worksheet millimetres from my face. I have been stuck on this question for the last ten minutes, and it was mostly due to my distracted mind yearning for the moment I could step on the grass, even going as far as imagining the crunch of the grass under my cleats and the slight kiss of the ball as I dribbled it down the field. My worksheet stood no chance against the battle for my attention.

"There is no point in me doing this. Point. Less. It's safe to say that I hate, abhor, despise Chemistry," I quietly ranted to myself in silent frustration.

Ashton was, thankfully, in the same class as me. He tended to act as both encouragement and entertainment for me at times like these. Understanding my hatred for the class, he’d appointed himself as my moral support since the first lesson of this semester.

As I drifted off into a wonderful daydream, the boy suddenly gave my chair a small kick, jolting me and effectively grabbing my attention as he whispered from behind. "Aly, Parry is looking. I repeat, Parry is lo-"

"Ms Woods, would you kindly lift your head from the table and answer the question on the board, since you seem to be so confident in yourself that you’ve decided to take a nap," our teacher commented as she called me out.

I felt my cheeks grow hot as I lifted my head immediately, doing a quick scan of the question up front, my eyes still bleary and unfocused. It was one of the questions on the worksheet, and unfortunately, I hadn't gotten that far yet. I felt another kick to my chair and heard a small, subtle whisper. "The answer's zero point three."

"Uhhh-um, zero point three. Yeah, zero point t-three," I stuttered out, gulping nervously as I held the menacing gaze of my Chemistry teacher, very aware of my classmates' stares too.

She glared at me for a few seconds, as if trying to intimidate me even more than she already has. And let me tell you; it was working. "Correct," she said begrudgingly. "Next time don't let me catch you slacking when you're supposed to be doing the work. Now, can anyone tell me what enthalpy does-"

I zoned her out after that, letting out a small sigh of relief and sent a thankful smile to Ashton over my shoulder. He smiled back and winked before getting back to the worksheet.

I glanced up at the clock, noting there was only a couple of minutes left of class, so I decided to pick up my pencil and try at least. My determination didn't last long though, as I found myself doodling an adorable cartoon Kirby instead. I subtly showed it to Ashton and was rewarded with the most adorable puppy eyes that looked uncannily like the cute wide-eyed, pouting emoji.