Definition: Slut [ complete ]

[08] Scandalous C's

NOTE:
This story will be removed the moment I finish it's prequel (S's & Ex's). And then I'm going to rewrite this <3
See description for link.

Definition: Slut
[08] Scandalous C's

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PREVIOUSLY:
A week and a few days passed since Ella heard of the rumour about her ridiculous sexcapades. It died down only to be replaced by a bigger rumour of her being a stripper. Julie Presto, a girl in her hall, approached her with ill intentions one afternoon, throwing insults at her. Ella was saved by the Resident Assistant, Lianne. In an attempt to cheer Ella up, Mia and Emily invited her to join them see a concert where Jonathan and his band, along with other bands in the university was going to perform. Her worries then were forgotten until she bumped into Julie, who she realized had a crush on Emily's brother. After avoiding her evil ways, Ella went back to her friends.
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It was a very early Sunday morning when I realized how much I regretted being such a nice person. After the concert, Jonathan and Damien opted to walk us back to my dorm after deciding that it was late and Mia was going to stay with us. Emily was practically dead and her beau had to carry her to the room. Mia took refuge on the one loveseat we had in the room and before I was able to drift to sleep, the two men somehow (I was too tired to remember) convinced me that I should be a good person and help them out by being a temporary manager for their team. Or at least, until their manager was back from her temporary leave.

"God, this is brutal!" I complained, as I stood beside the Coach Harrison. He chuckled and shook his head.

"You know, this job was voluntary," he commented.

I groaned. "I know," I muttered. "My roommate's boyfriend and my friend somehow-by some miracle-had guilt tripped me into agreeing to help."

Coach Harrison shook his head. "You can always just quit. I don't want to hold you back from your sleep, Connor."

I rolled my eyes. Coach had the tendency to call the team by their last names. I must admit, it sounded more legitimate, but I believed that it was because their last names were sewed on their shirts and he wouldn't have to pay attention to their actual names.

"I'm not a quitter," I told him.

He smiled. "Well, quitters never win." He blew his whistle (which would have caused me my hearing if I didn't cover my ears) and began to yell instructions to the guys.

I wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. It wasn't as if I was the one who needed to do the play. I could feel my eyelids dropping, but I pinched my arm, keeping me from falling asleep right there and then. It would have been mildly embarrassing if I fell forward and doze off.

It wasn't until ten in the morning when their practice ended. This was some intense training, seeing that I had to be there at an ungodly hour of seven. Three hours of physical abuse was horrible. I couldn't even last ten minutes of jogging. God, I think I would be obese if my metabolism stopped working. I needed to make healthier choices and start exercising.

"Glad you came, Connor," said Damien, smiling widely as he jogged towards me once Coach called them to hit the showers.

I frowned and took a step back, pinching my nose to avoid sniffing his foul odour. "You stink," I said with disgust, "Go clean up, Damien."

He scoffed and shook his head, but began to make his way to where the other boys were heading. "Wait up, alright?" he called out before he disappeared.

Being the team's manager wasn't so bad. I only had to do little things like pick up the balls and put away the equipment they used. Though, I figured that was because I was only going to be here temporarily. Whoever was doing this job must have been the one who did the schedule according to the player's classes and arranged the meetings and such.