She was on a questionable mission.
He was somehow collateral damage.
Meet Camille Campbell, A topsy turvy knockout, with a heart of gold and the stubborn will of a mule. When she feels the world needs a reminder of how relevant girl power still is...
"If you stumble and fall, just know I will always be there to catch you
~Floor"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Being the captain of the girls soccer team had its perks.
For one, I could miss lessons and say I was having a meeting with the boys' soccer coach. Call me a liar but I'm just economic with the truth. I also got discounts on food from the cafeteria and it also helped with ensuring that I was somewhat respected by a large population of the school.
I could also evade some detention sessions.
That was good too.
Definitely.
But nothing beats accidentally kicking soccer balls at the football players during practice.
"Ouch!" Sean moaned as the spherical object connected with his head.
The girls giggled along with my hyena like howls. I had to clutch my knees to prevent myself from keeling over.
"I still don't get why you guys insist on doing this everyday," Sean muttered as he rubbed his head profusely.
"Target practice. There is a reason why my team never misses the net," I smirked, despite the fact that most of the male players seemed put off, maybe I should cut it out. Noah on the other hand seemed like he was about to burst with laughter.
Sean rolled his eyes and turned to his teammates, "Where's the coach anyways?"
"He's been MIA for a week now and our game isn't getting any better," some guy piped in, "No offense, Captain."
"None taken. We'd need a miracle to turn us into 1-0 material before the next game," Noah shrugged throwing the football up only to have it slam onto his head, hard.
"Or ever," Sean grimaced.
I could see the light in Noah's eyes dim, figuratively speaking. I honestly don't know how characters in those I-want-you-take-me-now novels could tell how others felt from merely looking at their eyes.
Putting that aside, I digress, this tad bit of information weighed Noah down. I could almost feel his pain and my heart reached out to him.
"On account of our coach sucking ball's deep, I heard he got fired by the principal. Apparently, we're getting a sub for the meantime." Bryson said.
Collective groans resounded from the boys. "Now we really are going to lose this season," an Asian-American boy threw his hands up in dismay.
I almost felt sorry for the boys because they really sucked. Modestly speaking of course.
That is, their skills are the only thing duct tape couldn't fix.
Somehow, we all fell into an empathetic silence as if in mourning for the school's most up hailed sport.
