Rubber Band

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Oliver: Retort

"Emerson?" A high-pitched, obnoxious voice beckoned, and Oliver turned to his left after having exited the boy's locker room, sporting Laketown High's green and gold soccer uniform, of which consisted of gym shorts, knee-high socks, and a loose polo, bearing the infamous Laketown mascot: the Rattlesnake.

He was greeted with the sight of a grinning Maxwell, eyes bright and questioning, as he approached Oliver, standing awkwardly, halfway to the soccer field. "You play?"

Oliver shrugged, features twisting to form a coy smirk, "Only my whole life."

Maxwell beamed at his self-proclaimed new friend, and glanced over Oliver's shoulder, just as a familiar face strolled out from within the locker room.

"Hey, Nick!" Max called out, waving the boy over, "We got ourselves a newbie here!"

The boy of whom had been mysteriously summoned approached the two whilst simultaneously tying his long, shaggy brown hair into a makeshift bun, dark eyes staring skeptically.

"Any good?" He asked as he stopped walking in front of Oliver.

Oliver smirked wider, "Very good."

With narrowed features, Nicholas turned to Maxwell, expression suspicious and wary, before he moved to face Oliver again, glaring, impatient and observant, "You know we have one of the best teams in the district, yeah?"

Shrugging, Oliver nodded, "Sure."

"You think you have something to add that'll make us any better?" He snapped, one brow arched, chin held high with arrogance.

"Plenty," Oliver grinned, confident and unwilling to back down, eager to put the ignorant, self-centered being in his place.

"We'll see about that," He bit back in reply, glowering at the boy before him, eyes darkening and expression churning to fit that of disgust.

Oliver shot him a firm nod, waved slightly at Maxwell, and then began to jog away, headed for the group slowly gathering in the middle of the soccer field. Behind him, he was able to make out Nick's audible sneer, voice deep and insulting.

"I sure hope sunshine is as good as he says he is. I don't want coach keeping no California beach boy who can't play on the team."

Scoffing to himself as he overheard the boy behind him degrading his golden appearance, he spun quickly in his steps, sniggering loudly, and extending his hands in mock surrender. "Hey," He chuckled, "it's not like I wanna be on the same team as Tarzan either, but you don't see me complaining."

Hoots and hollers from the other players joining the now forming brigade had Oliver burning with excitement, anxiousness coursing through his veins. He blushed at his own retort, and mentally patted himself on the back.

Good one, Ollie.

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