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"Hey, did you heard that tryouts for soccer has started? I was thinking about trying." I heard tow boys conversing. It was the black haired guy that said this.
"You can. But I'm not. I'm not interested." Said the other one.
My best friend Amy, looked at me with the brightest smile. I raised an eyebrow at her. She chuckled.
"I'm trying out for soccer." She announced, a little too loud as all the heads in our direction. I glared at her and we mumbled a sorry. "I'm trying out for soccer." She whispered to me again.
"I heard you the first time." I rolled my eyes.
"And you'll be there for me." She added. Instantly, I shook my head.
"No. Nope. Nada. Not happening." I narrowed my eyes on her. She frowned.
"Because, I heard that tryouts are going to be taken by Blake Maxwell." I spat his name. She giggled.
Apparently, Blake Maxwell is the typical spoilt, rich brat that is present in every school, so known as ‘Bad boy’. He dropped a milkshake over my head on my first day to school. The next day, I replaced his cupcake with a fake one which was made of clay.
Hence, we hate each other.
"Please?" She pleaded, giving me her best sad smile with watery eyes. I looked at her for a moment before sighing in defeat.
"Fine." I muttered. Her eyes brightened and her face lit up.
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." I giggled at her childishness as she held and my hand repeated her herself.
We reached the field. There were a lot of students I recognize from different classes. And there was Blake, standing in his all glory near the goalpost with a guy beside him with a notepad. I guess he was writing the names of the selected people.
I watched guys coming and kicking the ball so it went straight in the goal.
I felt someone's eyes on me so I looked to my right side and saw Blake smirking as he strode to me. I raised an eyebrow. He did nothing but stood beside me with his arms folded on his chest.
"Carline." He said. I scoffed and rolled my eyes. He knows I hate being called Carline.
"It's Evelyn, Maxwell." I gave him a sarcastic smile. I know he hates being called Maxwell. He glared at me for moment before turning his head away.
"Here for tryouts?" He asked with a little scoff. I kept silent. "Of course not. I bet you can't even kick a ball properly." He added. I turned to him with an eyebrow rose.
"And what makes you think that?"
"Well, let's say you're a girl who plays with clay for time pass." He said. Then I remembered my second day at school. I smirked when his scrunched up face came in my vision. It was so funny.
"Well, then, you're the guy that can't differentiate between fake and real." I commented. He rolled his eyes, I rolled mine and he left to his earlier position.
Soon, it was Amy's turn. She was all ready. She kicked the ball and goaled. Three times she made the goals and got selected. I knew she was a soccer player at her old school so it was no surprise for me.
She came to me with bright smile and giddy face. I giggled and handed her a water bottle. I looked at Blake who was spinning the ball on his index finger. His eyes caught mine and he showed me the ball.
I thought for a while.
How hard can it be to kick a ball and land it in a goalpost, right?
"Hmm. I think I should try too." I said as I walked to him and took the ball from his hands. He smirked, looking so sure that I can't hit the ball.
I walked back to the marking from where we had to kick it. Blake stood near the goalpost like earlier. Now, all I had to do was kick the ball.
I don't know what I did wrong but when I kicked it, it turned it's direction and hit Blake's.....that....thingy.
He immediately held his part and groaned loudly.
"Fuck!" He groaned. I really felt sorry for him but I couldn't stop laughing either. He deserved that.
"Luke! Take me outta here before this crazy woman murders my unborn children." He groaned. I laughed out loud. Luke came and took him away. I giggled and so did Amy. There were a few guys on the field, looking at me with eyes widened.
I smiled innocently at the boy who was holding the notepad.
"Can I try again?" I asked, sweetly. All the boys turned away, hiding themselves. Amy bursted out loud and so did I.
"Did you say his face?" Amy said and we laughed, remembering the earlier incident.
"Yeah—" my words got stuck in my throat when I saw my uncle at the gates of the school, waiting for me in his car. I gulped and saw Amy looking at me with a sorrow look. I smiled reassuringly and left, saying I'll text her later.
I walked to the car and opened the backseat door and got in.
We drove home in silence. Not that I mind.
We reached home, had lunch. He went to his office again. I did my homework and listened to a few songs while doing the chores.
Amy and I talked for a little while on phone about random stuff.
My uncle came back at night. He cooked us food. We ate dinner. He went to sleep while I washed dishes.
Don't get me wrong, after my parents left me, he took me in. He took good care of me and he still does. But he's a bit strict and doesn't talk to me much since his wife died. He grew cold.
But he never complained about anything. There were only three rules:
One: No boys.
Two: No parties.
Three: No breaking the rules.
And I was happy with it.
At night, before going to bed, I decided on checking my phone. I opened Instagram and saw Luke's post.
Blake was laying on a bed with an over dramatic pained face. The captions made me laugh.
“My dude got attacked by an crazy woman”
I smiled and I shut the phone and went to sleep.
This is what my life is.