The three fundamental laws of Northwood High were clear.
A rumour in motion tends to remain so unless asked to shut up.
The amount of respect you receive equalled popularity.
And the third, and the most supremely infallible one, Wilder Collins was...
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"I think I'm going to throw up."
"You're dramatic, McKenzie," I said, even though I found myself quite close to throwing up.
After another week of somewhat reduced whispers and stares, it was finally time for the second match of the season. It had been a week that I had gushed about in my journal since it consisted of Wilder hanging out with me every day after school. It would usually be at his place, watching movies, even doing homework, making out, cuddling or just napping together. The last one was of course by far my favourite.
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I gazed up at the Jumbotron, my heart in my throat. We stood at the very front row which meant that we had the best view of the field and its players. It was half an hour into the second half of the match and even though Wilder hadn't scored yet, he had been level headed and an integral part in making the goal that gave our team its current score.
Southern Shore1 1Northwood High
We were tied after a spectacularly aggressive match that had already seen three yellow cards, none for Wilder thankfully. I still wasn't sure what had brought about the change in the attitude of everyone in the school. But Brad had apologized to me, blushing and making me feel even more awkward than I already was. It seemed like Wilder was unfazed by everything. He always smiled and acknowledged me in school, unbothered by the hate he was still receiving, most of which I expected came from a single source: Matthew Browning aka bitter bitch. His friends were back with him for the most apart, even if just for the sake of the game.
"What happens if they tie?" I asked, trying hard to crane my neck among the jostling crowd. The loud noise and the bright sun was making it harder for me to concentrate. However, I knew how vital this match was, much more personal than it should've been. My stomach felt like lead in anticipation, my heart had been on a treadmill continuously for the last hour.
"We will have to win the next match to advance, and by a good margin. That margin would depend on how the teams in the group perform," Ray answered, gazing nervously up at the jumbotron.
Even though my initial reaction for Cam posting the video without my permission was annoyance, I could now see that it seemed to have made a change. Maybe simply because many people had gone through what I had and could relate. Some had even been in worse situations.
"Well...there's still time," I muttered, crossing my fingers surreptitiously. The timer read ten minutes until the end of the match. We just needed one goal to set everything right.
Our team was pushing, but Southern shore pushed with equal ferocity. The crowd cheered as Wilder dashed forwards. I marvelled for a second at the way he looked so fucking hot when he was focussing like that. The way his eyes narrowed slightly, the way his jaw clenched, the way his muscles tensed. I quickly pulled myself back to the present before my mind wandered any further.
