Lars Crawford was a simple teen. He loved his siblings, loved baseball, loved life until a tragic accident ripped his older brother away along with his left arm.
Now he lives his life serving after school detention from fights he faught for his best...
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For the remainder of the school day, my head was nowhere close to paying attention to any lesson. It wasn't as if I was a student that slacked off. I usually paid attention but today . . . today wasn't that day and I was lucky that none of my teachers called on me.
Neema Marshall was . . . she was something beautiful.
Going over her facial expressions in my head I tried again to remember where I've seen her before. It was obvious that I've been in my own world these past few years to let a beauty like her walk in these halls without ever trying to get her number.
Shit her number. I never asked for her number not that it looked like she would just hand it over. She was already giving me a hard time being of no help to remember who she was. Luckily I had a friend like Ethan to help me find out her name and grade.
Hearing the bell ring for last period my teacher called out the homework before anyone left. The class groaned at the assignment making Mrs. Launder laugh. Tucking the black pen behind my ear I exited the class heading for my locker when I heard someone call my name.
Turning around Cody from the baseball team sidestepped a few students calling my name again even though I hadn't moved a step from in front of the classroom door. "Lars! Hold on a sec!"
Looking to my left I wondered if Neema was already at her locker. I knew for a fact that Ethan was. He liked to be the first one out of class and out of the building if possible. He says that if he's quick enough Griffin won't have time to bully him.
"Lars." Cody huffed his freckled cheeks red from running.
"Where are you coming from?"
"Coach's office. He wants to talk to you about playing next year."
"I'm not." I started to walk away when I felt a hand on my arm pausing me.
"Come on Lars. You're the best pitcher we have and you've been playing all three years. Why not finish your senior year out?"
"Because I hate the sport and I only played because of my brother!" Snatching from his grip I moved through the crowd.
I didn't want to play baseball senior year. Hell, I didn't want to play this past season or last year but my parents wouldn't let me say no regardless of my arm. Senior year I was putting my foot down. I would be seventeen over the summer and I had a say. I shouldn't have to continue playing a sport I hated. They would never make Cas do something like that. I could see it now, everyone pointing at me because my prosthetic drawing unnecessary attention much like last year.
Stuffing the needed books for homework in my bag I closed my locker ready to get home. Turning to walk away Kelsey stood way too close for my liking tucking her phone in her back pocket. Her highlighted hair was up in a bun with a pencil sticking out. Wearing a light pink v-neck shirt that showed a great amount of her cleavage, she bounced a little moving them enough to get my attention. I mean they're breast. Of course I'm going to look. I wasn't going to do anything about though, she wasn't my type.
