The Resident Badboy

Chapter 24 • Harley Mary

           I don't have to tell my group to continue walking to the field. I bet they are as fed up as I am from all the Lexus-Prescott drama.

           Everyone are eyeing me like I'm a piece of meat. There are series of whispers and taunting looks from people of different schools but I hold my ground. I hate spotlights but I was able to learn how to live with it.

           Coach Bradford was able to save enough seats for us but the genius took a place close to the bunch who wants my head. So I send him a side glare which he returns with a sheepish smile. Looks like he got this because he didn't have a choice.

           "Is that..." Bridget leans sideways to me and points with her finger the subject of her question.

           Following the line from her finger stands a bulky young man wearing a white cap and holding a white board used for coaching.

           "Ryan," I tell her and she nods.

           Hiro's bestfriend is the assistant Coach of Kingston Knights. If only my brother is here, he could've gotten far with his career.

           "He looks haaaawt," Bridget dreamily says as she drools over him.

           "That's disgusting, Bri," I complain and she lets out a tongue. That is so mature.

           "Only because he is Hi...." she stops herself from mentioning my brother's name and then sends me an apologetic look she shouldn't really have bothered.

           "Let's just focus on the game," I say to divert her attention but when I turn to look at her, she's already staring at someone different.

           Again, I follow her and my eyes land on Allison who's wearing the jacket I believe is mine. If she wore that in hopes that she'll get my attention, then she is winning. That is not her to flaunt.

           I look back at Bridget to see for myself if she's familiar with the jacket but the brat already has her eyes set back on the game, which left me reeling with colorful curses that I could throw at Allison.

           The game ended with Kingston as the winner. Westfields don't look as happy and as boastful as they were last year. Probably because their ace players graduated.

           While everyone's busy telling each other about the game they all just watched together—typical viewers—, I decided to hunt down Clarke. Not to have a chitchat with him and talk about the old times but to ask him a favor that's completely out of the context of this competition. I just need him to get something of mine that Allison now possesses.

           I dive through the sea of people at the hall that leads to the lobby of the stadium. Some are looking at me like I'm a celebrity and some are glaring because it's either I step on their shoe or I intentionally push them away.

           When I see a mop of chocolate brown hair, I turn my mild shoving to a violent one. I need to get Clarke.

           I don't usually do this but I really need what I will ask him to get. So call me desperate. "Clarke!"

           As soon as he hears me, his head snaps to my direction and smiles. Every Prescott athletes are looking at him, waiting for his reaction. Will Clarke talk to a traitor? I roll my eyes with that unspoken question.

           Fortunately, Clarke really isn't as narrow minded as everybody else. He doesn't even give a flying fuck of what others think. He walks through the squirming crowd and never stops until he reaches me.