Some call it love [NaNoWriMo13]

4 - Some call it love

"Hey, Miranda! Seat taken?" Connor asked, as he slid into the seat anyway without waiting for my response. 

"Were you going to let me answer anyway?" I asked jokingly. He smiled along as well. It made a dimple form on his left cheek. I laughed.

"Probably not, but you're a loner anyway, so I didn't think that I would have made much of a difference if I had allowed you to answer."

"What if it was taken?"

"It wouldn't have been."

"Then why did you ask?"

He shrugged. "Basic courtesy."

I chuckled along with him, wholly enjoying his presence. "I would say that I enjoyed soccer with you on Saturday, but I really didn't because you sucked," he said, changing the subject.

"Hey!" I protested, although I was mildly annoyed, knowing full well how bad I was at sports, much less one that involved me running around a field with boys who have been laughing at me all my life and having them tug on my ponytail whenever I happened to run (in the rare cases) by them or come within arm’s reach.

Although I did feel - in some way - happy. It was kind of nice being surrounded by company (even if the words which were said to me were largely swears and curses because I sucked at soccer) once in a while. It was no lie that spending time in the attic was - in many ways - lonely, if not boring. 

And maybe I was being too sensitive in letting their comments on my hair disturb me.

"Hey, Ginger," one of the boys I recognised as my brother's friend Derek greeted.

Or maybe not.

"Miranda," I corrected him. 

"Who?" He asked jokingly, as I could tell by the grin on his face. I rolled my eyes. "I see you're eating with Connor today."

I nodded, motioning to the seat next to Connor.

Derek put his things down. "You were a big help on Saturday! You really helped us win!"

I groaned. He was from the opposing team, and in a few embarrassing scenarios, I had scored and own goal one or two times. 

Fine, I scored an own goal seven times, which resulted in the other team laughing, and even some of my team mates. Eventually, one of them got tired of losing and gave me the position of being a goal keeper, which in my opinion, was totally fine by me.

At least I wouldn't be embarrassing myself anymore. 

That's a lie, I still managed to make a fool out of myself when I slipped while trying to push the ball away from the net, and then I face planted the grass in the field, with the boys all around me laughing. 

"At least you enjoyed it," I mumbled. 

"Yeah," Connor agreed. Connor was in my team on Saturday, and I truly did feel sorry for him, for having to have to be on the same team as I was for soccer. He was honestly a pretty good player on his feet, and he seemed to be rather good with manipulating the ball, so I really did feel sorry. 

Every time he had tried to pass the ball to me, I would always end up running too eagerly towards the ball which in turn, then gets accidentally kicked by me and then it gets stolen from me while I was still trying to find where the ball is. If it weren't me in the predicament, I'm quite sure that I would have been laughing. I mean, honestly, who would not have found that funny? 

Well, me, but that's because I was the victim. Even Connor would roll his eyes and then look away, where he would be laughing his ass off. I found it sweet that he was trying not to hurt me, but when he turned back, I could see his back vibrating so hard in his silent laugh.