His Smirk ||

3 - It's All Whose Fault?

It was the first game against them with me as team captain. All pressure was on me. Would I be able to lead us to victory? It’d been three years since we’d last won against those damned idiots. I was determined to win; nothing would get in my way. It was more than some rivalry. There were scouts at the game, college scouts looking for a quarterback. What Scout in their right mind wouldn’t be there? The two choice candidates facing off; Kale Pharkerson and Mike Klares.  

Fuck Klares! I thought again and sat up roughly. I snatched up my pillow with my aching hands and whipped it across the room. I’d lost the fucking game. It had all been in my hands and I just let it slip through.

It’s all Rein’s fault. I thought suddenly and got to my feet pacing the room. She made me late. I told myself as my hands clenched and unclenched. The anger and adrenaline from the fight still flowing through me. She’s the reason I left behind my uniform. I turned my eyes to where it lay in a heap on the floor. I’d thrown it down the moment I’d got back after the game. The loss. Again I growled and stalked over to it, giving the helmet a swift kick. The hard plastic rolled across the floor and hit the wall with a loud thud.

If I hadn’t left it behind I wouldn’t have had to make a pit stop to come get it after school. The precious minutes I would have gotten with Rein soothing my nerves had been wasted driving back just for the damned thing. I needed her to tell me I could do it. I needed her to give me a kiss and calm me down. Tell me to go win it for her, and get my mood up so I could march out on the field and do what I needed to do. It’s not that hard a fucking task. My mind hissed as I began to pace once more. Just a few little words and I would have been fine, But no.

I stopped again and looked around at the dark room. “I can’t believe this.” I hissed, my eyes narrowing on the football gear again. I’d lost the game. I’d lost the scout. It’s all her fucking fault. I stormed into my bathroom not even bothering to close the door behind me as roughly jerked the water on. The blood running down my lip was starting to piss me the hell off. The blood from where Klares’ had split my lip. Fuck Klares.

My heart tore madly in my chest and I stripped off my clothes. As I pulled off my shirt the sight of myself in the mirror caught my eye. What does he have that I don’t? I suddenly thought as I let my eyes scan my tight firm chest. Bruises were slowly starting to form where he’d assaulted my rightmost gut with jabs. I’ve got Rein, my mind reminded me and I ignored the loud running water as I approached the mirror.

I let my eyes scan my face. My blonde hair jutting up a little messy from the sweat that had dried in it. But looking as perfect as always, I’d always had good hair. Just a shake of the head and let it air dry and it would be just right. Not like Klares shaggy mop. I thought smugly thinking of his stupid head of brown hair. Nothing like him at all I agreed with myself. Though slightly bruised my features still looked damned amazing. Of course they did. I was fucking Kale after all.

My eyes locked on the reflection of themselves and I studied the hazel. They were harsh and slightly bloodshot. I could feel my anger growing just glaring at myself. I don’t look a thing like that fucker. I confirmed and my eyes scanned down over my chest again. The rock hard muscles that I was so proud of. The pecks and abs that Rein loved to run her hands over whenever we were laying together.

She’s never told me I look good. I suddenly realized as my eyes stopped on my face once more. I told her she was beautiful all the time. She was, why not tell her? But Rein… Rein never once said anything about how I looked. I knew she liked it, she wasn’t shy about touching me anymore. And that stupid picture Brendon had taken had made her blush so deeply. I tried to smirk as I remembered the affect my body had on her but I couldn’t manage it. She’s never said anything about how I look.