Off the Field

Chapter Fifteen

Holaaaa! So per usual it's exams week and I'm not studying...but I'm writing...it's kinda funny, usually I do the biggest writing sprees during exams week cuz so. much. procrastination. Not this time around though - not that I'm not procrastinating cuz I definitely am but I've just been kinda blank for writing lately, which sucks. Our trig exam class average was a 65%...sooo...that about sums up all my feelings about school recently. But anyway, I hope you like this chapter, please shoot me a comment! I need critiquing desperately. Hopefully I can upload again soon but I take the ACT February 7 so I'm up to my eyeballs in that and school and EVERYthing. Oh well.

Gracias! <3 vb12331

Chapter Fifteen

The red pen mocked me on the white paper.

I couldn’t remember ever scoring that low, and I was quick to stuff the test into my binder as I caught Mal glancing over to see my grade. Trying to shrug it off was harder this time, especially as I pictured my dad’s face as he checked online for my grades; I was crazy jealous of Mal, who besides being a genius had the advantage of having parents who weren’t technologically savvy.

“I’m coming to your place after school,” I told her as we left the chemistry classroom after retrieving our tests. I hadn’t wanted to go after school to check my grade, figuring it’d be pretty awful, but Mal had convinced me.

“Was your score that low?”

“Maybe I just want to hang out with you, jeez.”

Mal smiled, grabbing her water bottle from her backpack as we walked. “Danny, you can’t just avoid your dad forever. What if he doesn’t even look at your grades today? You gonna hide out at my house all weekend?”

“If that’s what it takes,” I said, only half-joking.

“What about Districts next week? You can’t just skip practice.”

My nerves jumped at the very mention of Districts. October was already into its second week, and though we’d won the two games we’d played since Crosswell, I wasn’t sure if we were ready for Districts.

“Practice doesn’t count,” I said as we rounded the corner. “He’s not my dad on the field.”

She gave me a weird look. “Of course he is, stupid. He’s never not your dad.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

Mal shrugged, arching an eyebrow. “Okay then,” she said, and dimly I registered that she sounded a little offended, but I didn’t say anything. As we neared the locker room, I realized how much time I had spent in the chemistry room: Most of the guys had left the hallway on their way to practice.

I paused with my hand on the locker room door handle. “So I’ll see you later?”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll even provide you with dinner, if you want. But you’re helping me on that trig homework.”