Twelve Nights

Chapter Three: McKinley High School, Home of the Bulls

"I do Bob. I agree 100%. Although, word just came in that Adriel Lockhart, Kristen Lake's quarterback, is having some jersey problems."

"What kind of problems John?"

"Apparently, someone has stolen his jersey."

"Oh my! What a shame. He does know that if he doesn't have his jersey, he can't play."

"Oh he knows. He is sure feeling the heat. His coach is livid because this is their first year in The Thunder Bowl and his team is probably just as angry because they are putting in so much work. Bennington surprised us all by having new rules and picking all new teams. These schools have never even seen an acceptance letter and for someone to just steal someone's jersey like that....just awful."

"I agree, just awful. Well you heard it here first. You're favorite sports station WC09, Rowland's finest. We'll see you all here tomorrow morning. Until then, go throw a football!" And that was my cue to shut the damn thing off.

"Just awful." I mimicked in a deep voice. "Go throw a football!" I scoffed. "Go throw yourself off a bridge and suck a di-" I stopped in my tracks when I received a harsh glare from Curson.

"Is this the kind of publicity you wanted?" I asked annoyed and he smirked. "Oh Olive." He sighed dramatically. "This is only the beginning."

***

Three hours later, we were still in the car, but we did stop for breakfast at a cute, little diner. I got a pork roll and cheese omelette with a side of bacon and Curson got pancakes with bacon.

I was now surrounded by trees, my legs were cramping, and there was nothing on the radio besides Justin Bieber. I liked his old songs and him and Selena were my goals in life, but I can't stand his song Love Yourself. So, when it came on for the tenth time I shut the radio off and said:

"Sorry Justin Boohoo, but I hate myself for not doing this earlier."

Curson didn't seem to mind, but it was when he started humming the song, I quickly put the radio back on. One Direction was thankfully playing.

"WHERE DO BROKEN HEARTS GO?!" I screamed in Curson's ear. He wasn't expecting me to do it that, so he honked the horn out of fright and the car in front of us was not very happy. They stopped their car, which caused us to have to stop.

Whoopsie Daisies.

"Olive you have really done it now." Curson angrily muttered as people drove around us, honking their horns and flipping us the bird. "Can't we just go around him?" I asked. I wasn't worried at all, until I saw the guy that hopped out of the car in front of us. It was a tan, white man that had to be at least 6'4 and he was wearing some kind of basketball jersey. This guy was super duper tall and would most likely squash me like a bug.

Somebody call LeBron James.

"On second thought, he looks like the type of person to follow us and honk his horn all the way back home." I laughed nervously, as he walked up to the side of the car. He knocked violently on Curson's window and Curson rolled it down slowly.

"Was I going too slow for you back there bro?" He asked. Up close, I could tell this guy had a bad spray tan.

"No sir. It's a funny story actually-" The man cut Curson off.

"I didn't ask for your life story, I asked if you didn't like the speed I was going."

"No you're speed was perfectly fine. It's just-" The man cut Curson off again.