Oliver is used to being the new kid. He's used to the awkward introductions and the curious glances. He's used to being lonely and not having many friends -because despite all the promises to stay in touch and to talk whenever possible, no one ever does. But all those years of experience haven't made the pit in his stomach disappear when he starts at a new school.
This time it's Eton College, an esteemed boys boarding school that prides itself on it's reputation and prestige. This isn't Olive's first boarding school either, ever since his stepdad came into the picture not seeing his mum and sister for months on end has become his normal. It's a large school, full of bright colours and stuffy uniforms. He stands next to the front gate, waiting for the headmaster so he can get his tour of the school before he begins his classes. He glances frantically around him, his heart beginning to race and his palms starting to sweat. Just as Oliver's thoughts start to race and his chest start to tighten, a guy with long dark hair and broad shoulders comes up to him with an inquisitive expression on his long thin face.
He looks around the same age as Oliver, give a take a year or two. His long narrow eyes are coloured the darkest brown he has ever seen and Oliver can't help himself from staring. Because as much as Oliver wants to look away he's never been one for self-control.
"You new?"
The question that's so simple in nature stuns Oliver into a stutter. For a moment he can't think or speak, let alone answer. All he can focus on is the boy that is standing right in front of him.
"Uhh- I think so?" The random guy raises his eyebrows and contorts his face in confusion.
"I mean- yeah, yeah I am."/span/p
The guy snorts quietly, "That's cool I guess. Anyways, have you ever played hockey? Like at all? Cause I'm the captain of the team this year and we're pretty short on players and you look like you'd make a killer player." His voice was cheerful and loud and passionate and Oliver can relate.
Oliver's heart skips a beat just at the mention of the word. Hockey. It's his true love. Other than his mother and his younger sister, nothing comes before it. It's more than just a sport to him, it's his life. The amount of time he's spent watching the game and analysing plays is ridiculous, and that doesn't even count the amount of time he's spent actually playing. To say he's obsessed is an understatement, hockey is what he lives for.
"Yeah- I've played a bit of hockey from time to time." Oliver says in a nonchalant manner, careful not to show just how deep his infatuation goes.
"You any good?"
Oliver shrugs, "I'm an alright goalie I guess."
He raises his eyebrows and raises his eyes up and down Oliver's body, "A goalie? Never would've guessed. Although it kinda makes sense. I'm a centre-half myself."Oliver nodded awkwardly, his face bright red and his arms crossed protectively.
"Well I gotta go. You better be at tryouts Saturday morning, just so you know. I'll be sure to find you if your not!"
And off he walked into the mass of students all in a rush to make it to their first class of the year. Oliver stared at the now empty space where he stood, his face blank and his head tilted to the side.
He didn't even know his name. But that didn't stop Oliver from wanting to get to know him better or from wanting to spend time with him. It quickly hit Oliver that he wouldn't hate it if the oddly charming stranger did end up finding him.
It's the day of the tryouts and just as promised Oliver shows up. Him and the captain haven't run into each other since and as much as Oliver tried to rid his thoughts of him, he just kept popping up. He hoped that this would be the thing that helped him forget. It was quarter to seven, fifteen minutes away from when tryouts were supposed to begin. The captain wasn't here yet, but everyone else seemed to be there. 20 kids had shown up; but with 11 positions and 5 reserves that didn't leave much room for getting the best of the best.
Two twins walked up to Oliver, both of them a lot shorter and broader than he was.
"Let me guess, you're new?"
Oliver sighed, "That obvious huh?"
One of the redheads snorted, "Pretty obvious mate. You just standing here looking like a headless chook makes it rather easy to tell."
The other twin nodded, "Not to mention Flint is always on the lookout for newbies to join the team."
"Flint?" Oliver raised his eyebrows, he had never met anyone called Flint.
"Yeah Marcus Flint. He's the captain. You know, the guy that runs the team."
So that was his name. It suited him Oliver had to admit. Marcus Flint. And as if he knew they were talking about him, he showed up. His mousey brown hair was dripping wet and the bags under his eyes were a lot more pronounced than when he had last seen him.
"Speak of the devil," muttered one of the twins to the other under his breath, a scowl etched on his other one nodded, with a similar look of disdain, before the two of them walked away.
The try-outs were rough but they were nothing compared to training. Marcus had them practicing plays after plays and running laps after laps. Not that Oliver minded that much, if he was running the team he was sure that he would be pushing them a lot harder. /span/p
The eleven main positions had been chosen; Oliver was goalkeeper, the twins (who he now knew were named Fred and George although he could never tell who was who) were the fullbacks. The right and left halfbacks were given to two tall boys named Derrick and Bole, who couldn't look more different if they tried. The two inside players were Urquhart and Warrington, both well-seasoned players who were great at strategy. Montague and Pucey, Marcus's best friends, were the wingers and they were both extremely skilled but terrible at teamwork. Vaisey was the centre forward and that left Marcus with centre half.
It was a good team Oliver had to admit. They all knew their roles and what they had to do to win. Their first game was next week and Marcus had them prepared.
Marcus. They hadn't really spoken since Oliver's first day and as much as it pained Oliver to say it, he wanted to speak to him again. As much as he wished he could and as much as he tried, he just couldn't stop thinking of the charming stranger with the hooked nose and overly large teeth. All he wanted to do was forget.
Oliver walked into the library, his blue eyes glancing around for a familiar face. Percy, his roommate and the older brother of the twins, said he'd be here to help Oliver with his essay. He looks around twice more before dumping his stuff at the nearest table and making himself at home. He gets started on the essay, Percy should be here soon and Oliver can't afford to waste any more time.
A shadow looms over his work and Oliver looks up expecting to see a mass of red curls and gold-rimmed glasses. It's not Percy though. Not at all. Instead it's Marcus.
"Marcus' hair was tied up in a messy bun that sat on the top of his head. He was smiling slightly with his head at an angle as he glances at Oliver's work.
"Flint? What- what are you doing here?"
"What? You don't think I belong in a library?"
"Flint, I don't think you can even read."/
He laughed loudly and Oliver felt his chest tighten and butterflies whirl around his stomach with excitement.
"You've got a point there Wood. Anyways I was wondering whether you had any plans this Friday night?"
Oliver froze, what did he mean by plans? His heart started to race and he started to panic.
"No, why?" Oliver asked, desperately trying to play it cool.
"Cause I was thinking that we should celebrate! You know, in preparation for our first match."
Oliver's heart sunk, of course Marcus didn't want to spend time with him, he wanted to spend time with the team. He was stupid for thinking any differently.
"Um that sounds like a great idea," Oliver said, his voice soft and deflated. "Um I have to get back to work so if you could-"
"Oh yeah of course. I'll see you later then."
"Oliver went back to his essay, with his heart heavy and his mood sour.
Oliver wasn't sure whether he wanted to go or not. On one hand Marcus would be there and it was a great way to build team spirit but Oliver knew that he couldn't keep getting his hopes up for nothing. He needed to let go of his infatuation with Marcus Flint and he prayed that it would happen sooner than later.
He ends up going because how could he not. Even though in a couple months he'll probably be gone and they'll all have forgotten him, he still wants to be liked. All he's ever wanted is to be liked./span/p
When Oliver walks in, the first thing he notices is the noise. It's loud and the music isn't exactly his taste but Oliver shrugs it off and smiles anyway.
He scans the room, his eyes searching for someone he knows. The room is large and painted a dark blue that Oliver can't help but hate. Oliver recognises everybody in the room, but no one he's comfortable enough with to start a conversation. His shoulders slump slightly and he plants himself on the old leather couch that sits in the corner. It's peeling slightly and Oliver tears at the fabric in order to pass the time. He's not sure what he expected but it definitely wasn't this
"Wood, you came!"
He turns to the left and spots Marcus in a black top and tight blue skinny jeans. He's waving slightly, his lips upturned in a grin.
"Of course, I couldn't miss out on this."/
Marcus nods, "Come and sit down with the rest of us." He grabs Oliver's hand and drags him to where the others are in the middle of the room.
They sit down, hand in hand, and Oliver can feel the warmth radiating of Marcus' palm. The background chatter is only a murmur of noise in Oliver's mind because all he can focus on is that Marcus' hand is in his and that he's holding Marcus' hand and that Marcus is here with him. Time slows down and his thoughts stop racing and his heart stops thumping and he's at peace with himself and the world and who he is.
Until Marcus lets go.
And then Oliver realises that maybe, just maybe, this crush is here to stay.
It's game day and Oliver is ready. He's decked out in his excessively padded gear that- true to Eton's style- is overwhelming with bright colours.
He looks around the locker room, everyone's cheerful and joking around with one another. Noise fills the small space and it causes Oliver to smile slightly. He's never been one for loud noises and excessive chatter but he's grown to love this team and he'll be damned if he doesn't enjoy it while it lasts. Marcus strolls over towards him, a smirk planted on his face and a glint in his eye. He's determined, Oliver can tell. He's spent a lot of time analysing Marcus' reactions and expressions and he's pretty much got it down pat now.
"Ollie! You ready for the big game?" He grabs Oliver's shoulders and shakes him slightly.
Oliver shakes his head with amusement, "As ready as I'll ever be."
Marcus grins, "That's the spirit! Come on team, let's win this."
It's tougher than they expected, turns out the Harrows have been practicing a lot. But Oliver knows that they've been training harder. Right now the score is in their favour and with only a minute left on the clock, he knows they should win. The other team has the puck and are on the offence. They're passing from the left wing to the right wing, gaining metres as they do. One of the twins- he's pretty sure it's Fred- is running towards the left wing, ready to defend the goal, and then smash, he lands right on top of him.
Oliver winces, Fred's a sturdy bloke and the left wing was only a tiny boy. The referee blows his whistle, "Penalty stroke!" Fred stands up quickly and dusts himself off while helping the other boy up. His eyes are wide and his mouth is open. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to fall onto him. If I did it would've been a lot worse than that."
The ref only waves him away and Fred rolls his eyes angrily. A penalty stroke is harsh, only given out when you foul to stop a goal or you deliberately injure the opposition while in the defenders circle. It means that Oliver is gonna have to defend the team on his own. There is only seconds left on the clock when the game is stopped. The attacker chosen is a burly bloke who looks like he has a big and powerful hit. Oliver looks to the side of the field where all his teammates are, Fred's bright red with a major scowl on his face while the rest of them just looks worried. It's hard to stop a penalty stroke and while Oliver is good, he's not sure if he's good enough. Cause if they get this goal, it's a draw and team doesn't win.
Marcus runs over to him, gesturing to the ref to wait a second before beginning the play. He grabs him by the shoulder and whispers in his ear, "You can do this Oliver, trust me. You have got this. Oliver nods and Marcus grins, his face full of warmth and affection. He gently strokes his shoulder before running off and joining the team on the sidelines.
He takes a deep breath and nods at the ref. The referee blows his whistle and the attacker goes to take the hit. He's aiming for the left side of the goal, and as he swings back Oliver takes a step forward. He swings and the puck soars, racing towards the right of Oliver and he jumps, his stick outstretched to stop it from entering the goal.
Time slows down and his thoughts stop racing and his heart stops thumping and all he's focused on is this puck. He closes his eyes, ready for the impact. He hears the puck knock against his stick and he jolts open his eyes. The puck didn't go in and they won the game and as Oliver glances over towards Marcus, a massive smile stuck on his face, he is met with an even bigger one. And Oliver can't help but feel at ease because maybe, just maybe, liking Marcus won't be so bad after all.
