Sorry this chapter is so short. There will be another update really, really soon. As soon as possible. Anyway enjoy!
*I don't own Degrassi. Why would I be writing FanFiction about it if I did anyway?*
The day of the tryouts approached quickly. Adam hadn't played in a while, but he was in good shape and his touch on the ball was still exceptional for his age. He attributed his fitness to all of the running away he did. Sometimes, when he was sick of his family or stressed out from all the problems at school, he would just put on shorts and a t-shirt and run. So he wasn't the toughest looking person. He wasn't tall or muscular, but he could run like a cheetah. He couldn't wait for the running tests to begin so he could smoke every one of those cocky upperclassmen, which he was confident he could. His brother, Drew, had asked him to train with him for football, needing a partner to push him. So he was in pretty good physical condition, though one would never guess from looking at him.
Adam dug his cleats out of the back of his closet the morning of the tryouts. The silver cleats were worn and slightly dirty, just the way he liked them. Broken in and familiar like an old friend. He packed his old soccer bag with clean socks, shin guards, shorts, a t-shirt, and a sports bra. He hated wearing that thing; why did he have to wear a girl's clothing item? But the sports bra hid his chest exceptionally well and wouldn't fall off like the bandage might. He brought his lucky soccer ball along with him, the one Drew had given him two years ago for Christmas. At last, he was packed and ready to go. As he was walking out the door, his mother called his name.
"Yes, Mom?" Adam replied, slightly annoyed.
"What are you doing with your soccer bag?" She asked.
Adam sighed and rolled his eyes. "Trying out."
His mother's eyes widened. "For which team?"
Adam's face began to flush with anger. He tightened his grip on the strap of his soccer bag. "Goodbye, Mom."
"Adam, wait..." She began. Adam slammed the door behind him forcefully. He jumped into the back of Drew's car.
As they drove from the house, Adam's phone rang. It was his mother. He picked it up reluctantly. "Yes?" He asked impatiently.
"Adam Torres, I swear, if you think you are going to try out for a sport with a bunch of rowdy boys-"
Adam felt anger bubble up inside of him. "Mom, I am a boy! God, why can't you get that through your head?"
Drew, hearing the conversation, motioned for the phone, which Adam gladly gave to him. "Mom, it's Drew. Just let Adam play. Why not? He was on a boy's team before. I know, but... I'm trying out with him, so I will make sure nobody hurts him. Yes, Mom. Of course. You don't need to worry. I'll call you after the tryouts, okay? Bye. Love you, too."
In the back seat, Adam sat with his arms crossed listening to the conversation. "Of course she says yes to you," Adam grumbled.
"Hey, you got what you wanted, didn't you?" Drew asked. He turned on the radio and they sat for the rest of the ride in silence as Adam tried to control his anger.
