deep blue eyes // Antoine Griezmann

Chapter 2 - His Number

It's a Friday morning, and I wake up early in order to send Rachel, who is the only one in our small group of friends who can drive, if she can do a favor for me.

Me: hey rach are u going 2 the game 2nite

rach: what game??

Me: the boys have a football game tonite

rach: Seriously? Where?

Me: if you promise to drive me there, i can give you the directions.

rach: Of course! I'll ask Tori and Eliza if they wanna come, too.

Me: kk

Me: Also, one more thing.

rach: Yeah?

Me: Are you going to homecoming next Saturday?

rach: Of course.

Me: awesome, youll have to pick me up 4 that too

rach: Of course. See you later.

Me: yeah, bye

I'm fully aware of how much of a crappy friend I am, don't worry. I actually almost have my license, so soon I won't have to be asking Rachel all the time. I mean, I've asked her many times if it bothers her, and she's always said no, as long as she's going to the same place anyway and she has room in her car, she doesn't mind driving me.

She's actually, like, a really awesome friend. Unlike me, I guess. Oh well.

The whole day is a blur of boring lectures and difficult worksheets, until the seventh period, my last class, the only class I have with Griezmann.

I wish I had more classes with him. Rachel has more classes with him. She has three classes with him.

This particular class is Health with the very interesting, wonderful presenting Mr. Levine.

Not.

I hate Health, so it's kind of nice this Griezmann suffers through it with me every day. He's the only reason why I haven't died yet from Mr. Levine's lectures. I just block the rambling out and stare at Griezmann for the whole period.

I'm almost failing Health, but I don't really care. Griezmann is worth it.

He sits right in front of me, so I get a wonderful view of the back of his dark brown hair and blue hoodie.

Then my mind starts to wander. What color, really, is his hair? In the past, it's been light brown, dark brown, and blond. Like, really. What's his real, natural hair color. Well, I guess I'll never know, since I'm afraid to even say hello to him, let alone ask him about his fricking hair color.

Then, the teacher, Mr. Levine, says something interesting for the first time in his whole life. "So, class, for this project, I'm going to have you paired up." Everyone in the room starts whispering, deciding who wants to pair with who, before Mr. Levine says loudly, over all the whispering, "And I will be choosing." Everyone sighs.

I'm simply scared. Great. I'm going to be paired with some random person I don't know, and I don't even know what this project is about, because I wasn't even listening.

Mr. Levine starts listing off the pairs. All my friends get to be with strong dudes on the football team. Rachel is with Phil Foden, Elizabeth is with Jordan Henderson, and Tori is with Hugo Lloris.

Mr. Levine still hasn't said my name, and I'm getting more nervous by the second. Then, I realise that Griezmann hasn't been called yet, either.

What if...? No, that can't be. I'm not that lucky. I'm never that lucky.