Behind Those Glasses (ON HOLD)

Victory Is Yours

Recap:

It was on course.

So close. The green goalkeeper was in position.

The ball inched closer. I closed my eyes.

WHOOSH.

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The ball bounced off the goal keeper’s foot, and rolled in. No one reacted instantly. They all stood money-robbed, not sure how to react. The goalkeeper Mindy landed with an, "Argh, damn it!" I took off my red framed glasses, rubbed them, then rubbed my eyes and adjusted them back on. I didn’t quite keep up with them; I wasn't the only one either. "Son of a mother duck!" was the first reaction. Then came some others:

"HELL YEAH!"

"Eat the big, fat, colourful ball Mindy!"

"Did I just win the lotto?" a short girl yelped.

Another smart-arse one replied; "No, you won a kick to the arse."

"WOOHOO! This stick is useful not only for scooping ice-cream!"

I grimaced at all these weird reactions. I shared hi-fives all around, and handshakes to the opponents, of course among them was Sally, who looked like a brownie-gone-wrong, covered in mud but her bright red hair still managing to glow through all the mess. "Not too shabby Miss Unconfidential." Sally joked. "At least I don't look like Sandman off Spiderman."  I sneered back, in a friendly matter.

"You watch that?" She chuckled.

"Who doesn't? He's like the spider to my web, it completes me."

"Oh, very funny."

"If I didn't say so myself, but a true master does not reveal all their secrets at once."

She threw her head back, laughing. I joined in, and I kept that smile on my face the whole day. This time, it wasn't forced.

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I got home, and found my mother was in the laundry and dad back from work, reading something I wasn't particularly interested in. I threw my bag on the couch, accidentally knocking my dad out. "Whoa there my chum, easy with the grenade next time." "Sorry dad." I apologised. "Anything new today?" He asked, curious. "Nothing you would put your head into dad, just epically won a hockey game." "Oh really? I remember when I was your age I..." I left before my history class had started.

 I sat on my spinning chair, and did a couple of whirls on it, feeling really relaxed. I came across the bright yellow clock I got for my birthday two years ago. I really have been wasting my time. I sudden pang of weird emotions encaved me, but I couldn't really feel what they were telling me. I decided to ignore it, spinnning in the chair was much more entertaining. Whee. I'm getting a bit dizzy. I'm homework free, and have no life. May as well walk to Emily's house, even if it's four streets away. Blah. I got out of my uniform, which I greatly despised, and started my trek to Emily's. The streets were undisturbed, discluding the lonesome cars that flew by like a hippo with wings, even if that isn't animally possible.

I arrived at Emily's environmentally friendly house, much too much for a human in the 'norm'. It was full white and was not painted with any harmful chemicals that affected anything to do with nature. It sat on the ground, not on a concrete slab like most foundations. The roof was invaded with solar panels and the grass was greener than a jealous grinch. Bad comparison, I know, but this green was mindblowing. I shook my head into reality, and knocked on the door, which I may inform you, is not old fashioned, but a different way to address a door. I think I'm going insane in this heat. I waited a bit, Emily never answers the door because she is either practicing guitar, which definitely did not suit her persona, trust me; or screaming at the stairs she most likely tripped over on the way down. I'm guessing the latter. She was much more awkwardly constructed than me. But finally her mother answered the door with, "Emily, next time do not to stub your toe with the guitar pick just to clean your toe-nails!" It ws hard to keep a straight face in such a situation, this was a new story. She shook her head ashamed, and gave me a warm smile.

"Sorry you had to hear that Boxy. Emily is in the bathroom nursing a foot." I chuckled and skipped in. I ran up the stairs to the bathroom and jumped on Emily, which was in fact, cradling a foot in her arms. She jolted from the shock, hitting her other heel on the bathtub. She yelped in pain, "Holy freckles!" SI freaked out, "Holy freckles Emily, I am so sorry! Are you alright? I popped by to see how your foot was going." "No kidding." She complained. I smiled and pulled her foot on my lap.

"Which toe did this poor girl stub with a guitar pick?" I said, acting like a freaky nurse.

"In the arm." She frowned, pulling her foot back.

I kissed her toes and she screamed and jumped back like I had cootes.

"What the hell!" She cried.

"Just checking if you could still feel your toes." I informed in an English accent.

"Check on yourself next time, but on a walking plank!" Emily retorted.

"Argh me harties!" I impersonated, doing the sailor arm swing for the effect. "Your weird Boxy Slade." Emily remarked. "Glad you figured sooner than later, I was getting worried." I said, very concerned. She laughed, got up and pushed me into the empty bathtub. "Yikes! Girl overboard, girl overboard!" "Go save yourself, go save yourself!" She mocked, using the same tone. She walked out of the door, and left me to help myself. Very hard considering I was in an almost completely bambooed bathroom.

I walked into her room, to find it hasn't changed a bit from two months ago. It still had MJ and Bob Marley posters hanging on the walls, her magazines and books were scattered everywhere possible in her room, while her goldfish swam around and around peacefully in his fishbowl. Fit him perfectly as her whole room was pretty much like living inside an orange. Emily remained silent as she dropped onto her bed. She was nothing like her ethical parents. Not saying her parents aren't great, but you would never think they would have a child like this. Ever. I fed her goldfish, and started small talk, "Hey, I met this girl called Sally. Shes been in my class for a while, sad I didn't notice. She has wild red hair and graffitied converses. What do you think of her?" Emily tapped her chin as if she was thinking. "Er, why would you say that? I mean, you can be friends with anyone you want with a fine ass like that." She grinned suggestively. "NO! That was not what I meant. Gross Emily, trust you to think of these things." I huffed, shaking more fish food into the fish bowl. "Sure sure." She replied, without hesitation. "But yeah, she sounds pretty cool. You should get her to go to yours some time, so we could chill." I shrugged. "Cool, sounds like a plan." She got up off the bed, and snatch the fish food. 'Stop sprinkling the stuff in, you'll over feed Sylvester." Yes, she did name a goldfish after a cat. Yes, I thought it was very ironic as well.