Soccer Girl

Chapter 9- Frankly My Darling, I Don't Give A--

               We wrapped up the rest of the generic football meeting, discussing simplistic things like game strategies, upcoming matches, and my captain status. I turned down numerous offers for rides home, opting to walk alone in the cooler night. Dew and fog rolled around me in hues of gold, silver, and white both from the street light and the full moon overhead. As I walked away from the front door of coaches house, I waved back at our coach who had opted to watch us all leave to ensure our safety. I’d be lying if I had said that his gaze didn’t follow me longer, only due to the fact that I- like I said before- was walking. In the dark. Alone. I drifted easily down the street, humming Dismantling Summer by an upcoming band called The Wonder Years to myself, and scanned my surroundings. I heard rather loud rumble of a large pickup-truck slowly moving just behind me. I glanced around to see that it was a black Ford, the driver masked in the shade cast by where two street lights fluorescent gleam could not reach. I knew better than to stop. So I quickened my pace slightly, eyeing the truck in the corner of my field of vision. As fasted walked, the truck creped forward, matching my pace. When I stopped, it stopped, almost like we were playing a big game of cat and mouse. I stopped moving as stood stock still, arms folded and foot tapping as the truck halted next to me.

           “Need a ride kitten; looks like it’s about to start pourn’ rain.” Called Harvey, quiff bobbing to the drum of a metal song I didn’t recognize.

           “If this is you trying to repent for tonight, it’s not going to work.” I spoke, tutting at the brown haired boy.

           “Now, do I really look like the type to repent? I mean, bless your heart, but, I’d’ve really thought you’d be a whole lot smarter than that.” He replied in a condescending, country manner, you know, the kind that old southern women use when they don’t like you, but are too pretentious to say it out loud.   

           “Oh bloody hell; shut your gob, you cheeky  cunt. I am NOT in the mood.” I bit back.

           “Ouch, kitten, that really hurt. Now get in the car or you’ll be soaking wet, and it won’t be anybody’s fault but your own.” Just as I was about to reply, fat droplets of late, yet warm summer rain came down, soaking my hair and the tops of my shoulders.

“It’s now or never.” I huffed. I jogged over to his passenger door, and slammed it shut behind me as I pulled myself in. I crossed my arms and ignored the growing smirk on the young southerners angular face.

“Shut up.” I muttered. This only caused him to grin, his ego clearly boosted by my scowl.

We drove in simi-silence, him tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the fast paced song on the radio, and me with chattering teeth, glaring at the road before us. The soft glow of the street lamps made the rain glitter like falling like golden topaz. Harvey pulled off his letterman jacket swiftly, and set it lightly around Samantha’s slender and freckled shoulders. My eyes snapped to his, meeting them momentary and softening before they turned  back to the road so that he didn’t get them into an accident on the slick road.  

“T-thanks.”

“You’re welcome, darlin’.” Harvey smiled lightly. I groaned, sinking into the warm leather seat.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I cried at his ever bemused expression.

“What? Like you’re a pretty little girl that can’t seem to keep her cool? Or how about a funny little thing that is just so endeared by my oh-so out of character actions?” The amused look he had once held on his face was again replaced by his famous smirk.

“Oh fuck-off, mate. You aren’t worth the thought.” I sighed, much rather preferring the thought of being in the rain than in the car with the boy that infuriated her so much.

“Mmm. Tells that to the jacket you’re wrapped up in. RIght or Left?”

“Right and then right again. But hell, you couldn’t be anymore wrong. I’m cold’s all.”That wiped the smirk right off his face momentarily replacing it with a hard glare aimed directly for me. If looks could kill... I looked away from him.

“Don’t bring it up again. I have a girlfriend, and just like that kiss, this doesn’t mean anything.” It was my turn to look at him. My eyes widened at the smirk he had regained from my reaction.

“What? Did you think that any of this actually meant anything? Please, don’t flatter yourself.” I swallowed down the urge to vomit at his harsh, condescending words.

“I-I don’t-” I started, only to be cut off.

“You’re pretty pathetic, eh?” he chuckled, “you’re better off alone babe. And to be honest, I don’t give a fuck about you, not really. You’re easier to toy with than I expected. Weak girl for such a strong persona. Where here.” He chuckled at the surprised tear that escaped the corner of my eye. I shrugged off his damned lettermen jacket, and scrambled out of the car, feeling dirty.

“Fuck you.” I whisperd, running across the huge front lawn of my house and to the front door. The lights were all off in her house. not bothering to turn them on, she dragged herself up to her room, and flopped down onto her neat duvet.

Third Person P.O.V.

Outside of a large residence a boy slammed his fists against his steering wheel, curing himself. Inside said residence, a girl let more tears flow at the boys harsh words. Both regretting their actions, but at different times, and for different reasons. the boy drove away after a minute of uncovered rage, and the girl passed out from her exhaustion.