I Hate My Brother (editing!)

12.

We take a moment to breathe in the lively atmosphere, the clear blue skies bright and breezy. In the middle of the green field is half of the soccer team, all dressed in their respective jerseys. There's a crowd circling them, some conversing with the players while the rest stay back to observe them perform tricks with the soccer ball. I squint my eyes to clear my blurry vision, and spot Drew in his red and purple jersey in the number '07', all the way at the corner of the field where the track and grass meets. He stands rooted while in a light, jovial conversation with another similar-build blond.

Almost as if they sensed eyes on them, they look up and our gazes meet from across the stadium. Drew enthusiastically waves and nudges Zac who's next to him, before the both of them spring apart back to their own teams.

Zac, who's dressed in his white band t-shirt, goes to a drumset placed at the tracks and picks up his drumsticks. He sits down on the stool, prepping himself before he lifts the sticks to knock against each other three times. When the first beat drops, the cheerleaders nearby gets into formation. Him and his members play a lilting merry tune, the soccer and track teams pause their activities to let the fast-paced music consume all the little chattering.

"Woah," is all I say when the band cuts off at the same time one petite blonde is thrown into the air by her cheerleading team.

"Yeah," Cass matches me. "As much as I don't participate in the games, these four always put up a good show." I look around to see the stadium filled with at least half the amount of freshmen.

Just as the bleachers start to clear out, two large figures run up the stairs to our spots at the back. Drew plops himself down beside me while Zac sits opposite us, both of their foreheads glistening with sweat. A couple of girls seated nearby oogles at the guys, lurking behind just to steal glances of them.

"Good job, but I don't think you needed my support, Andrew." I scoot further away from him, nearer to Cass when his sweaty arm brush against my bare thigh.

"I sure did, babe, and why are you calling me Andrew?" He decides to move in towards me anyway, two drops of his perspiration drip from his chin to my arm as he leans his face close to mine.

I yelp, leaping up to my feet in an instant but failing to catch my balance. I trip against my own ankle, falling straight on a stiff wall which steadies me with one arm on my shoulder and another around my waist.

But I can't relish in the comfort of his embrace as I immediately feel the sweat-soaked shirt against my skin, causing me to let out a shriek and jump up.

"Oh my god go take a shower before y'all touch me!" I grunt while the three of them guffaw at my predicament.

"You don't find this manly?" Zac smirks, referring to his white t-shirt that's sticking on his torso, revealing a hint of abs beneath.

"Absolutely not!" He begins to lower his hands to the hem of his shirt, teasingly lifting it up inch by inch much to my surprise. I haven't notice what Drew is doing but when Cass calls out to me, it's a second too late. The both of them yank their shirts over their neck and throw them at Cass and I, landing exactly on our face. They erupt into an enormous belly laugh when we scream in horror, our eyes wide from the atrocity.

I ignore the lot of girls squealing at the two half-naked man and meet my eyes with Cass' dark brown ones. With a determined nod, the both of us prowl over our preys, their individual shirt in-hand. I position myself in between Zac's thighs, wrapping his shirt over his face in a mock suffocate. He tries to tug it down, but I keep my hands clasp tightly on it, forcing him to inhale his own sweat. Just when I assume he's surrendering, he pulls me down by my waist onto his lap, torturing me with his fierce tickles attacking my sides. I break out into an uncontrollable laughter, my hands falling completely to my sides to stop him.