Off the Field

Chapter Twelve

Merry Christmas!!! I can't believe 2014 is almost over, wow. So I was a good kid and hung out with the fam all yesterday for Christmas, but as soon as they went to bed I wrote from like 10 pm to 2 am. Not this chapter - the next one - but dude, it's been a long time since I've done that, just written so flowingly, and it was awesome. Great Christmas present. Anyway, I hope y'all had a great holiday, whether you celebrate or not, or just a great day. Take a sec to thank God for everything He's given us, especially His Son :)

Enjoy the chapter - maybe a vote and comment? Gracias! <3 vb123321

Chapter Twelve

“Dude, did you print those pictures I sent you?” asked Ray as we walked into class.

I frowned as I dropped my literature book on my desk. “What pictures?”

“The ones for our lit project?”

“Oh yeah.” I slid into my seat, avoiding his eyes. “Um, I kinda forgot about those, actually…I didn’t get home till late after the game yesterday and then Kasey kept bothering me about finding the right color tie or something…are you always supposed to match your date?”

Ray looked slightly annoyed. “Most girls are into that sort of thing, yeah. But explain to me how I’m supposed to finish this project tonight if you didn’t give me your part. It’s due tomorrow, you realize that?”

I hadn’t, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. “I’ll just text my dad and ask him to print them out at work,” I consoled him, waving a hand. “He’ll bring them to practice.”

“He better.”

Settling into his chair in front of me with a disgruntled expression, Ray took out his notebook and a pen, scribbling something. I shifted in my seat, feeling weirdly uncomfortable as I stared at the back of his dark head. As the bell rang and class began, ancient little Mrs. Jenkins peeped over her podium to tell us to shut up, as usual, and she looked surprised when she realized we weren’t talking.

“Let’s open our books to Beowulf…where did we leave off?”

Kasey sat across the room – lit was one of the only classes we shared – and I looked over at her to see that her blonde head was bent over her phone as she texted away. As Jenkins babbled on about how heroic Beowulf was, I slid out my phone and messaged Kasey. A second later, she glanced in my direction, smiling, and I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Miss Andrews,” said Mrs. Jenkins in her squeaky voice, “do you know who replaces Beowulf as the hero at the end of the epic?”

“Uhh…” Kasey glanced at her book. “Grendel?”

“Grendel is the monster, Miss Andrews. Does anyone else know?”

Mallory raised her hand from the second row. “Isn’t it Wiglaf? Beowulf gives him his sword or something, right?”

“That’s right!” Jenkins looked thrilled that someone actually paid attention. “Thank you, Miss Moore. Now, the symbol of –”