The Rugby Player and Me

1. Cancelled Detentions and Pillow Barriers

Liv

"Liv!" Someone hissed and poked my side. "Wake up!"

Groaning, I waved away the hand that was nudging me and nestled back onto my arms. There was a sigh beside me, and then-

"Olivia Baker!"

My hand slipped from under my chin. With a quick bang, I was face-down on the desk with a very sore nose. I lifted my head up, rubbed my nose and looked around to see what the disturbance had been.

Mrs Scott stood at the front of the room, glasses perched half-way down her nose, the same nose that was always sticking itself into other peoples business. Her hands were planted on her hips, and she pursed her lips. One look around the class confirmed that everyones stare was on me.

I sighed. I didn't like being watched.

My gaze slid back to Mrs Scott, who was still looking at me expectantly.

"Well?" I asked.

You could tell when Mrs Scott was about to get really angry. Her lips pressed together so tightly that it looked like she doesnt have lips at all, and her shoulders tensed. Knowing this, I could guess that I was about to get it.

Beside me, my best friend, Kate, sighed again. I turned toward her with a raised eyebrow, and she sent me a look I knew all too well.

You should have listened to me.

Shifting my eyes across the room, I saw Mark, my other best friend,

A few seconds passed, and I was braced for the yelling I was about to get. Instead, Mrs Scott's shoulders relaxed, and her fingers pressed together in the classic villain arch. This was somehow more intimidating than her just letting me have it.

Mrs Scott's mouth twitched into what could be a smile, but also could be a grimace.

Detention. She stated calmly, then turned back to the board.

Awesome. I mean, it wasnt my fault that my brother had been blasting classical music in his room at almost one in the morning. I had gone into his room at 11, after I had been tossing and turning, unable to drown out the shrill sounds of the recorded violins. Caleb, of course, had refused to turn it down, claiming that he needed to practice because band audition was tomorrow. Apparently, he still hadn't perfected whatever he had been working on. As if he wouldn't get a place in the school band. Even at 14 years old, Caleb was kind of a musical protégé.

I hadn't bothered to complain to my parents. They adored Caleb, loved the fact that one of their kids was talented at something, rather than just drifting through life like I did. I knew I was a bit of a disappointment to my parents, but I didn't feel too guilty. If you had a brother like Caleb, you would start believing that one family couldn't possibly have two kids as talented as him. There was no way anyone could be that lucky.

Caleb had eventually killed the music at one thirty, and I had fallen asleep shortly after that.

If there was one thing you needed to know about me, it's that I thrive on sleep. If I didn't get at least eight hours, I was an absolute zombie-like wreck the next day.

After what I had decided to refer to as the Late-Night-Music Incident, I was severely lacking in sleep. My alarm that goes off at seven am was smacked into silence repeatedly, and it took my mum coming into my room screaming at me that I would miss the bus to get me out of bed.

That had left me ten minutes to get ready, most of which I had spent running around the house looking for one of my favourite converse. After a frantic search effort, the shoe had been found lying by the back door, chewed almost beyond recognition. Today was not the day to be complaining, so I rushed out of the front door with one shoe on and the other in my hand.