Can't Help It

"I'm a loser baby

So why don't you kill me."

Just when you think your life can't get any worse, you find yourself being dragged to the local park at an ungodly hour on a weekend, by a best friend you're not even sure why you continue to talk to, to play a sport you wouldn't even consider a sport.

I dragged my feet across the parking lot after reluctantly hoisting myself from my car while Charley stood nearby literally jumping from foot to foot in excitement.

"Please?" I tried one last time before she could officially drag me out onto the field.

"Go," she replied heartlessly, pointing to a group of athletically dressed guys in the distance. "Besides, maybe you'll like one. They look cute."

"The last thing I need is another guy in my life," I shot back with a yawn.

"Because you have so many?" she laughed in reply. "What? Is your monogamous relationship with your vibrator not working out?"

"No, it is. That's the point," I replied with a sneer. She thinks she's so funny. "And it's too early for you to be making fun of me for doing you a favor."

"Yes. I'm eternally grateful." She rolled her eyes again.

"Bitch."

She just laughed in reply then allowed her attention to wander as she heard a voice across the pitch call out her name. "Ooh. That's him. Isn't his voice sexy?"

"Turned me to butter," I muttered dryly but she just grabbed my hand and began to drag me briskly towards the group of guys.

"You made it," a cute blonde one said, stepping forward from the crowd to greet us. He had a nice smile, dimples, and a short spikey hair style going on. Basically, Charley's type to a tee, but even I would admit this one was cute.

"Yeah sorry we're a bit late," she apologized stepping up right beside him. "Darcy here was in hysterics about her vibrator."

"What the fuck!" I exclaimed, glaring at her with all the force I could muster. Most of the guys laughed with good humor and I decided to direct my glare at them instead of Charley, only just noticing the small crowd of young men watching me and Charley expectantly.

"Sorry. Kidding," Charley apologized. "That was mean."

"Er. Ok, then," the blonde said, rubbing his neck and blushing all over. "Well, Darcy?"

I nodded, still glaring.

"Ok. I'm James." He pointed at himself then each progressive guy. "This is Rich, Matt, Ryan, Sam and Ethan. Guys this is Darcy and Charley."

Charley waved with an excited grin at the group of guys. Two of them clapped half-heartedly and somewhat sarcastically. I just examined the grass, plotting the murder of my best friend.

"So we figured we'd just split up into teams of four and play around a bit," James continued in a friendly, if not somewhat preoccupied manner. "You guys know the rules?" We both nodded. "Excellent. Let's do me, Charley, Ryan and Sam on a team then Darcy, Rich, Matt and Ethan on the other. Everyone cool?"

I examined my teammates closely as half the group took off with James across the pitch. My eyes caught on the tallest of the group and I couldn't help but blush slightly. He was… Fuck it, he was cute, standing there awkwardly rubbing his own left shoulder, his dark hair already slightly disheveled, as if he too was not exactly ready for his early-morning wake-up call. Our eyes met and, embarrassed that I'd been caught looking, I immediately dropped my eyes to the grass and crossed my arms over my chest.

Bad idea, Darcy. Bad. Bad. Horrible. We hate boys, remember? Penises bad, and all the shit?

"So…" the first one, Rich?, sidled up to me and easily draped his arm over my shoulder. "Ready to play some Frisbee?" He wriggled his eyebrows. I squirmed uncomfortably.

"Are you hitting on me?" I asked, coldly, unused to my personal space being infringed upon so early in the morning… or really ever in fact. Is that what a guy's touch feels like?

Focus, Darcy. No. Not on the tall one. Grass. Look only at the grass.

Rich removed his arm and shrugged good-naturedly. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

"Actually, you can." You're being mean, Darcy. Calm down.

Rich just shrugged again and ran off with the other guy to take positions. This just left me staring at the grass and shuffling, yet again, uncomfortably. Really uncomfortably.

"He's harmless," the remaining, Mr. Tall and Gorgeous, said after a pause that seemed to last ages. I flicked my eyes up quickly, meeting his for the briefest of moments before I blushed again and looked back down. It wasn't fair. They were big, dark eyes and he had nice eyelashes!

But I'm a man-hating bitch who never wants to fall in love! So I looked hastily back down at the ground.

"So…" He sounded almost as uncomfortable as me. "I'm Ethan, thanks for asking. And why don't you go cover up front? I think we're about to start."

"Ok," I muttered then took off up the field at my quickest sprint, never once removing my eyes from the ground.

By the time "practice" ("ow") was over, Rich had forgiven me my earlier slight and we had set up a truce as the two highest scorers of the game. Just so long as he didn't grab my butt again (his hand will heal eventually!), I guessed we could be friends.

My entire body ached from the game, though, and I found myself limping off the field behind the giggling couple of Charley and James ("No, James, you were the best one out there!" "But you were the cutest one!" Ew. Someone fucking kill me.) and plotting which of them I would choke next.

Ok so Frisbee had been… not horrible. And Rich was nice enough, in a sleazy way. But when Ethan came running up to me to request my presence at post-practice drinks (while I studied the grass very, very closely and tried not to wince at his proximity) I couldn't help but want to look up at him and the fact that he'd removed his shirt halfway through practice to reveal his "good-god, please say those are airbrushed" abs.

So instead I said, "I don't drink before noon, thank you," and scowled at the grass as he ran off to ask Charley and James.

But as I watched his back as he ran off towards the cars, I couldn't help but wince at my own stupidity. Jerk or not, this one might be worth letting break my heart.