My Obsession with Chloe Claire: BOOK ONE

Chapter One

I remembered telling Jacob that I wanted to ask her out, but his response ruined it all for me.

"You wanna ask who out?" Jacob scrunched his eyebrows.

I got quieter, starting to get a little embarrassed. "Chloe..."

"You mean the fat girl who sits beside us?" Jacob said with disgust.

"She's not fat..." I mumbled.

"I couldn't hear you, say that again for me," Jacob's light eyes bore into mine. "Were you talking about Chloe Marshall, who's super hot?"

I could feel my face burn. It was embarrassing to have your best friend tell you that the girl you liked was ugly, especially when you did not think so. I guessed everyone had different tastes, but obviously he had the wrong kind, especially since he thought a girl the size of a toothpick was considered hot. "No..."

"Oh, you do? Okay I'll ask her out for you," Jacob replied and that was how I ended up dating the wrong Chloe.

The funny thing about it was, I never knew I was in a relationship with her until she broke up with me saying I didn't pay enough attention to her‒right in front of Chloe Claire of all people. I didn't even know Jacob had asked Chloe Marshall out for me until the relationship ended two weeks later.

I heard one of the coaches blow their whistle as Coach Braxton yelled, "Okay guys, huddle up!"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and ran to huddle up around Coach Braxton. Jacob and I soon followed, squeezing ourselves a spot near Coach Braxton.

"Good practice everyone!" Coach Braxton yelled as he held his clipboard, staring with intimidation into everyone's eyes. "I expect the same exact thing tomorrow morning bright and early at 4:00 a.m."

I could hear several guys groan.

"Shut your traps! That'll earn y'all an extra mile to run in the morning, how about that?" Coach Braxton snapped as he chewed his minty gum rapidly.

Everyone immediately fell silent.

"Alrighty then. Tomorrow, I want to try out second-string here as a quarterback," Coach Braxton said as he looked at Jacob.

I knew how much Jacob hated to be called second-string. He always complained to me afterwards about how he had a name and how he was irritated that Coach Braxton didn't bother to remember it.

"Okay, D'Marcus, let's end this practice so we can all go shower," Coach Braxton said to our team captain of the practice.

D'Marcus was a polished senior and an amazing defensive end. I was sure he was going to be drafted to the NFL this year. In high school, I had watched him play on tv and he made everything look effortless, exactly how I wanted to look.

"1,2,3," he started.

"Roll Tide!" everyone shouted.

Everyone took off their helmets and started to jog off the field.

"Let's go, Luke," Jacob said as he started jogging.

"Armstrong!" Coach Braxton yelled as I began to pick up my pace.

This couldn't be good, I thought as I stopped in my tracks. I slowly turned around and walked toward Coach Braxton with heavy feet.

"What the hell were you doing this morning?" he asked as he looked up to me with his hands on his hips, his eyes squinted, and his dark eyebrows scrunched tightly together. "You were doing exactly as I wanted you to but all of the sudden you started looking around like some lost child looking for its parents in a strip mall. What's the matter with you, son?"