The Only Exception (on hold)

Chapter 1

Never one for reservations or personal space, Dallas fell on the mimics like a toned tonne of bricks. "It's the Suite Life!"

"You watch way too much TV, Dee." I chuckled. Something nudged at my hand discreetly once Kas had rushed to the rescue and pried Dallas off the boys. I looked down to find Patch's hand brushing against mine.

"How are things, bud?" I asked, looking up at his smiling profile. The sun seemed to light up his face.

"Better." He said, and I slipped my hand in his in an effort to communicate my pride through touch. It seemed to register, because he squeezed back. "You want to go for coffee tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure." I beamed. I had a feeling this was going to be a good year.

A deafening wolf whistle pierced the comfortable silence between us. Hell, it probably shattered a few school windows, and I'm pretty sure every pair of eyes within a two-hundred metre radius turned towards the source of the sound. It was then, when everyone's attention was strictly fixed on one boy, and only then, that that boy removed his whistle fingers from his lips, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the top of his lungs: "PATRICK O'CONNOR AND AURORA HASTINGS ARE HOLDING HAAANDS! MAKE ASSUMPTIONS, MY MINIONS. MAKE. ASSUMPTIONS!"

See, this is why I can't have nice moments.

A growl rippling from my throat, I tore away from Patch and crossed the distance between myself and the obnoxious announcer in a few sprinting bounds, not bothering to slow down as I rammed into him and tackled him to the ground. "You. Asshole." I bit out through gritted teeth as I ruthelessly attacked his ticklish spots, rendering him a giggling mess.

Cairo Huntervale. Womaniser, delinquent, sports junky, surfer, major loser and my all time best friend. Nobody else could bring this tough guy down like I did.

He reached out a hand towards our peacekeeper, who shook his head in amusement. "You dug your own grave, Cai."

When I finally decided enough was enough for the poor tortured bastard, I rolled off his abdomen and gracefully to my feet. Cai followed, his dirty blonde hair a lovely mess of leaves and grass blades. Shaking like a dog, he cleared his throat and met the eyes of everyone in the group. "Ladies," When his bright crystal blue eyes paused on me, he smirked. "And Aurie." I bowed deeply and theatrically, surfacing with a smrik in kind. I had so many names it was tough to keep track of them all, but only Cairo called me Aurie. It had started in kindergarten when he'd had trouble enunciating 'r's, so one was better than the pair in Rory.

"Are you prepared, young Skywalker?" I asked ominously, reaching forward to ruffle his hair free of a stubborn leaf. He let me, accustomed to my casual touch.

"To kick your pretty little ass?" He asked, ending in a flamboyant hiss. "Mossst definitely."

I shrugged before swaggering away in a cocky manner, calling back over my shoulder: "I was referring to the therapy you're going to need after the nightmarish loss you'll suffer this morning."

The boys' heads swivelled back and forth between us like they were watching a pingpong tournament. Cairo, smug and confident, unzipped his camo print backpack and retrieved a glossy white and black soccer ball. His smug expression was enough to communicate the bring it on I could practically hear bouncing around his head.

We were referring to, of course, our annual back-to-school soccer game. Each year, Cai and I would face off with teammates of our choosing, splitting up the members of our gang between us first before being given just one day to gather the rest from people around the school. There was no age limit and no rules outside those of normal soccer, only something far more precious was on the line.