Fire and Silk

Chapter Thirteen

Do not take life too seriously. You will never get out of it alive. - Elbert Hubbard

________________

PAINTBALL wasn't something i indulged in often, when i turned sixteen it was what i chose to do on my birthday. I had wanted to join a team and play but of course Dad wouldn't let me. So i did it around once or twice a year only because most of my friends wouldn't do it and there was only so many times i could ask Dad's driver to take me somewhere on my own. The paintball community was super friendly -if you don't count the one time the owner of the place i used to go to was very sexist- and welcoming. The older i got the more i fell out of my love for it, my life got to busy with other things and the fact my friends never wanted to come put a downer on the whole thing.

Now only in week four of collage and i have made some new friends, whom i mainly see in lessons but i'm hoping to change that. Jackson and i have grown closer over this week, we had swapped numbers and had been texting back and fourth with excitement about this weekend. Turns out he was also planning to throw an -non alcoholic- party tonight after paintball; a victory party for whoever wins. (Which will be us) and the only reason why i say non-alcoholic is because Gross and Price will be coming and because it's at some pizza parlour near the campus. Bailey was also someone i had gotten closer to as well; she was in my P.E class, she's friends with Jackson which is how we mainly connected.

"Can you open the boot please Zac?" I ask from the back of his car.

Everyone had gone to wait at the picnic tables for the guy to begin the run down on the rules and guns. I hear the click of his car and i open the boot grabbing out my duffle bag, i slam the boot shut and walk with Zac back over to everyone.

"What did you bring?" He asks grabbing the bag from my hand, "It's heavy."

"You'll see," i sit down next to Penny at her table.

Across from her sat Jackson and Zac. I look over my shoulder to see Price and Gross in a conversation, he still hadn't looked at me and i was beginning to think he was going to actually leave me alone and for some reason that hurt a bit i had thought he would not listen or at least fight me on this. Well you're the dumbass who kept telling him to leave you alone my subconscious says. Frowning i turn back around as the owner of the place walks up to all of us, everyone's attention is drawn to him. He was a bigger built man, large beard and covered in tattoos; i imagine Price with tattoos and i have to squeeze my legs together at the thought. The burly man grabs a chair and takes a seat in front of all of us.

"The names Bob," he says, "Welcome to Splat, we have simple rules and also if you wish to be a member let Karen at the front know. Now you can pick your own teams or i can choose for you, are you ready for the rules?"

Collectively everyone nods in response, he stands up and walks away to grab something. When he comes back he has a chalkboard with the word 'rules' written at the top.

Rules

1. NO BLIND FIRING

2. No shooting at people not wearing protective equipment.

3. No drinks or food within playing areas

4. All players MUST be wearing Goggles and Face Masks prior to entering playing areas, the target range or the chronograph area.

5. Exit the field as quickly and quietly as possible after being shot.

"I assume well hope you all have the common sense of respect and shit, try not to shoot your teammates. You'll be given coloured helmets to help you determine who is on your team, you are free to use your own equipment if you've bought any. Don't be afraid to ask me any question," Bob says, "If any rules are broken you'll be escorted out of the playing field and taken back here where you have to sit and watch your friends have fun."