Roommate Roulette

20 | Kick their asses

His hair was tousled, most likely his hand combed through it too many times. Green eyes are boring into mine, flicking to my lips and he cleared his throat.

He flashed me a crooked grin, dimples on display. "Early enough to see you."

I fought a smile, resisting the swoony feeling. "You would've seen me at  the game too."

One of his hands came up to tug on one of my braids. "It wouldn't have been the same."

This time, I genuinely smiled. "Yeah. Yeah. Enough with the flattery." Truth is, I just wanted him to shut up so I didn't keep blushing from his words.

He chuckled, wrapping the hair around his finger. "Never." Then his smile slowly faded away, his expression turning almost exhausted. "I don't want to do this one."

"The game? Why? Are you okay?" The questioned tumbled out of me in a quick blurb.

His eyes softened ever so slightly, lip quirking. "I'm okay, I think. This school isn't my favourite, that's all."

"Then you better kick their asses." I supplied and my enthusiasm caught him off guard and he doubled over, cackling.

"Okoro, Delgado and Bauer. Here. Now." Their coach called out, waving them over.

Wyatt brushed past me, nodded to me in greeting and turned to Forrest, an unspoken message passed between the two. "Peppering." Forrest informed Grayson.

"That's my cue to leave." I made it about three steps until a hand was enclosed around my wrist, pulling me to his chest. "What?" My voice came out breathy. 

He stabilized me with his hand on my waist. "I'm waiting for my good luck kiss." His breath brushed my ear, voice low and gravelly.

My face erupted in flame as I turned to meet a smirk on his perfect face. "Really?" I questioned, skeptical. 

"Does it look like I'm joking?" He said, raising a brow in challenge.

I feigned an exasperated sigh and lifted onto my tippy toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "Satisfied?" 

His grin could make the sun seem dull, the mischievous shine in his eyes would make the stars jealous. "Absolutely. Oh, also," he added, "I'm going to need one every game now." Scratch that, his handsomeness can outmatch Ryan Reynolds any day.

I don't think the redness had subsided from my cheeks yet, but I shoved him a step closer to the court. "Go. Good luck." But I was smiling nonetheless. 

For a second, it was just us, beaming at each other without care in the world. Of course, the moment had to be interrupted. "Delgado!"

"Coming, Coach." He grumbled, jogging off.

We observed them from a distance and I felt stupid not having any knowledge about volleyball. We occupied the first step of a bleacher with Ezra and watched as another team crossed the gym and piled their bags in a corner.

"Which school is that?" Alaina hissed, eyeing them from across the gym with a glare.

Josie bit her lip indecisively. "No idea."

"They look like they're ready to throw hands." She added.

"What's the possibility that a fight could break out today?" I asked, a bit on edge from the expression of irritation on each players face.

"Ninety-nine percent of the time it won't happen." Ezra muttered.

We don't judge people, but for the next half an hour, we were quietly cackling at the comments the opposing coach made.

"I feel bad for them. Getting yelled at all the time." I said, my eyes averting the scene and landing on Grayson, tracking each of his movements.

"It is what it is, right?" Josie sighed beside me.

The alarm blared through the gym, intriguing the audience of students and parents, chatter subsiding into silence. The referee stayed on the stand, perched up all high and mighty.

A coin toss. Both teams split into their own sides. Huddle. The captain of each team—apparently Grayson and some other dude—gave a quick pep talk. Break.

Coaches sat on the benches as music played in the background, for... suspense? Or maybe something to fill in the eerie quietness.

Our team served first, Noah overhanded and the ball was perfectly saved from a hitter. Volley, spike, over, bump, volley, spike, over, pancake, out. The guys give each other a short celebratory nod and they were back into their positions.

Weird, how your high school gym teacher could retain the terms of all the sports in your brain.

At the game point I was on the edge of my seat, the other team behind by one, meaning we needed one more to win for the two point difference. 

Grayson dived for the receive and I winced for him as he landed on his side, the ball flying to the stands. Forrest jumped over him and hopped over the stands, crashing into a row of empty chairs, but bumping the ball close enough for Wyatt to get it over.

Josie's eyes went wide, scrambling up to check on Forrest, so did all the others. But Forrest was rolling on the floor laughing, clutching his arm. Yousef gave a hand to Grayson and he took it, pulling himself up.

The team crowded around Josie and Forrest as she smacked his shoulder. "You scared me! I thought you were seriously injured."

"You alright, man?" Noah asked, I caught his gaze, then it flipped to Ezra holding his gaze.

Suspicion confirmed. But this isn't my game to play.

"Yeah. Yeah. We got the point, right?" He got up with ease. "You guys worry too much."

"Hey, Okoro." Coach pushed through, a sign where people should start dispersing. "Can you still play? Thiago can fill in."

Stubbornly, he shook his head. "Don't worry 'bout me, Coach. I've gotten worse." Josie lingered behind and the rest of us gave them some space.

He quickly pecked her lips—that's an understatement, they were sucking each others faces off, but I didn't look at them for too long—before moving back onto court when the buzzer sounds again.

The second, third and fourth game happened in a blur, but it was the last game now. Tied in score and I chewed on my nail nervously. 

"Ican'tlookIcan'tlookIcan'tlook." I slapped my palms over my eyes to black out my vision. I curled into Vals side and she patted my back reassuringly.

"What's wrong, Eve?"

"It's too stressful." I whispered into her shoulder and she chuckled. "But tell me who gets the point because I hate seeing the guys crashing into shit." I added.

"Will do." She said.

The murmuring in the crowds doesn't help my gut feeling that something is going to go to shit. Instead, I traced the patterns on Val's pants, hearing the scrape of fabric sliding on the waxed floor.

An ooh  rippled through the audience and it didn't sound good. It wasn't an 'ooh~' it was actually an 'ooh-'.

"So... we didn't win?" I asked quietly, my voice feeble.

"Oh, we won―" Alaina started.

"But the one percent happened." Ezra finished.