Author's Note: Hi! Thank you so much for those four incredible reviews! Hope I have more this time and I truly hope this chapter reached each and every expectations of yours! I'm really sorry for posting late, I was very busy with school and now that I'm quarantined at my house I hope I can write faster. Stay safe guys!

Chapter two: Tryouts

Stella's POV:

"I heard the new kid is trying out for volleyball," Musa commented casually as she placed her lunch on the table. "Did you know he started training when he was only five? That's wicked." she said, impressed.

"Where did you hear that?" I asked with a frown. The first day of school had already finished and now we're on our second. Of course I still haven't talked to Blake, but that's only because for some reason I can't seem to find him anywhere.

"Riven told me," she shrugged nonchalantly. "Also, the girls at dance can't stop talking about him, it's like they know every single fact about his life."

"He does have a very public family," Bloom stated, taking a bite out of her hamburger. "And he's hot. Who wouldn't want to talk about him?"

"Umm . . . me?" Aisha offered with a grimace. "He's not the only fish in the sea, guys."

"True to that," I chuckled. "Besides he's a player who doesn't even believe in the word commitment. I bet he's probably making out with some girl right now."

"I don't know . . ." Bloom sang. "Sky told me he's focusing on sports to receive a scholarship."

"That's bullshit," Musa scoffed. "Who says you can't do sports and sex at the same time? The guy's definitely getting some and we can't criticize him because we don't even know him."

"I support that," Flora piped in. "We can't judge a book by its cover."

"Then I suggest we drop the whole topic before we become the newest 'Brandon fan club.'" I offered, quoting the last words.

"Fine," Bloom nodded. "In an attempt to drop the topic; how did your talk with Blake go, Stell?"

I mentally cursed myself for not predicting this would happen. With a shrug, I gazed down on my food, finding it more interesting. "You know what? I haven't: And that's why I am going to go find him; to talk to him."

"Now you're just trying to avoid us," Musa cleverly stated.

I chuckled, picking up my backpack from the floor and my phone from the table. "Maybe, but I'm not lying, I'm going to go find him."

"Go to the gym. Coach told them to go on their lunch break." Bloom informed me.

"Alright, thanks!" I told her, opening the doors of the cafeteria and breathing out a breath of relief. Blake wasn't avoiding me. Volleyball tryouts are today and I imagine he's swamped with practices and schoolwork.

My school is highly known for its place at the sports rank. Students come from all over the states to study here so they can have a proper training for a potential future career or a scholarship. I don't do any type of sports. Not even cheerleading or dance. I'm an art kind of girl, I love painting and drawing. Sports are hard and I'm not ashamed to admit the fact that I can't even run five minutes without panting heavily. I may be skinny, but I'm not in shape.

Blake on the other hand basically breathes sports. He'll try any kind without even knowing it and excel at it. His main focus is volleyball, but I know he plays other sports like football and even hockey. Finding him training at lunch break is no surprise for me.

Eventually, I arrived at the gym. There were a few freshmen's in one corner playing basketball and at the bleachers I could see the boy's sport bag which told me that they were in fact here. Specially Blake.

Since I couldn't see any of them now, I walked towards the locker room where they always spent their free time. By the way, this school has a strict rule of locker rooms and it prohibits the jocks to change clothes there. Just to prevent the whole 'I saw you naked in the locker room,' cliche kind of thing. (1)

I was actually glad the rule was placed because I come here often and I do not want to experience an awkward moment with one of the volleyball boys. Not that my eyes would mind, but I'm sure my mind would.

I neared the door to the room and stopped before opening it. I literally came here impulsively. I was not prepared to talk to Blake and now he's on the other side of the door, talking to his friends. But, my new year resolution involved talking things straight into the face, instead of hiding my feelings like I used to. So I gathered some courage and threw the door open.

To my surprise the room was awfully quiet and isolated. The only source of noise came from the room's bathroom and it sounded like someone was in pain.

Should I check him out?

Maybe. But I won't. Whoever's in there probably doesn't want anyone molesting him . . . or her. But there's also a huge possibility he or she needs help. I'm going in, I don't care. A person can't scream at me for trying to help them. Even if I'm not wanted.

With a deep sigh, I placed my backpack on the floor and make my way towards the bathroom. The noise became clearer and I could make out what was really happening. There was moaning . . . and panting, lots of panting.

When I peeked through the door, expecting to make the least of noise, a clutter of books fell to the floor. They were holding the door. And two high schoolers were pressed against the wall, staring at me, one with annoyance and the other one in sheer amusement.

And who was the girl? Khloe Crawford, my grade's biggest slut. She parties around as much as she sleeps around, there's no in between. She doesn't care about her grades because daddy promised her a modeling career. She only cares about her herself and her body.

"What the fuck, Stella?" she snapped heatedly. She had the boy pressed against the wall and when she turned around, the view of his face became clear.

Brandon Shields. Of course.

"l'm sorry, I thought someone was in pain." I defended myself quickly, trying not to sneak glances at Brandon's naked torso, slick with sweat.

"Well, we're clearly not, so you can go now." she scoffed, not even bothering to cover her upper body up. "What are you even doing here to begin with?"

"I'm looking for Blake," I told her, even though I didn't want to, but I desperately needed to find Blake.

"That loser?" Brandon scoffed, adjusting some of Khloe's weight off him. I shuddered, not believing their bluntness. But most importantly, how dare he call Blake a loser? Is it because he's not a bad boy who sleeps around? "He's taking with the coach. Probably about the tryouts."

"Thanks," I muttered in annoyance, turning around and leaving. But before I leave, I told Brandon, "Oh, and by the way, you call Blake a loser again and I'll tell Griselda you're having sex in the school's public bathroom."

Then I left. I would never get tired of saying the reason why I hate people like them. They thought so highly of themselves and manipulate others to their liking. They're egotistical, arrogant and egocentric. They're the worst.

I found Blake a few minutes later, talking to the coach about God knows what. Before I could reach them, coach patted Blake's shoulder affectionally and left. I smiled at him as he walked out of the gym and in three strides I was already face to face with Blake. I placed my backpack next to his and took a deep breath when I saw him gazing at me. His glossy, blue eyes shining with curiosity.

"I'm sorry," I breathed out and Blake lifted a perfect eyebrow. He placed his water bottle down and crossed his arms over his chest in confusion.

"What are you sorry for?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper. He unfolded his arms and enveloped them around my waist tenderly. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I let you run away and didn't try to stop you."

"I'm apologizing for running away," I stated, gulping at our proximity. "And for not reaching out for you in an entire day. My inner 'drama queen' got a slight hold of me."

"Your inner 'drama queen'?" he asked curiously. "Let me guess; Miranda?" Blake smiled knowingly.

"That's the one," I nodded, a smile easing up in my lips.

"I missed her. She used to make daily appearances two years ago." He joked, and I could feel yesterday's problem slowly fading away.

"Let's not forget about Bailey, she was the one we all had to look out for." I laughed, recalling those times when my period came and I was an emotional rollercoaster.

"How can I forget her? She put me through some pretty tough times." He shuddered at the memory.

I laughed more. "Remember the time when I made you buy five different pair of colored headbands because I wanted them all and couldn't decide on which one to take?"

"Yeah, you were a real child then," he muttered under his breath, bringing me closer to him and tucking my head under his neck. His laugh subsided and I could feel him struggling to get some words out. "Let's not do this again, okay? If we have a problem with each other then we'll talk it out just like we've been doing for the past four years."

I nodded in agreement and lifted my face from his neck, gazing at his baby blue eyes adoringly. I know this was probably a good time to tell him about my feelings, but for some reason the words just couldn't leave my mouth. Instead, I sent a last smile at him and returned my head to its previous place. The moment was just too precious to damage it.

"Are you excited about try-outs?" I asked Blake once we made our way back to our final class; English.

Blake shrugged and sat down, he left his backpack on the floor and took his notebook out. I did the same. "I was, up until the new guy came and started to flaunt about his amazing skills. Did you know he's been training since he was a kid? Volleyball is his passion."

I bit my lip in thought and wrote down the day of the month. This was what I was scared about; Blake feeling intimidated about some stupid rich boy. I knew talking more about his skills would just push Blake's confidence down, so I instead drifted to another topic. "He was having sex with Khloe in the bathroom. I caught them when I was looking for you."

"Really?" Blake scoffed a laugh. "Why doesn't this surprise me?"

"Maybe because they're two horny players who have nothing more important to do?"

"I've never seen Khloe so interested in a guy before. She can't leave the guy alone." He said. "I don't know how he puts up with her."

"It's the sex, Blake." I told him with a shrug. "Guys these day can't go past a day without indulging in something sexual."

"Guys these days?" He repeated with an indignant look. "What about me?"

"I mean all types of sexual indulgence, that includes yourself." I pointed out cleverly.

"At least it's not with a girl," he smirked.

"But it was at some point." I said knowingly.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But that was once or twice. You can't blame me for trying to explore."

"I know I can't, but some patience would've been better." I told him. And yes, we were talking about his virginity. I would never forgive him for losing it so young. Granted, he was only sixteen and lots of boys lose it at that age, but I can't help but feel jealous of those lucky girls. I sometimes wish I was them. I always had this fantasy of losing it together.

"You know how impatient I am," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"You're the most impatient person I've ever met." I told him with a scoff. "And I'm including myself."

"I take after my parents, considering how young they had me." He said. Blake's mom got pregnant when she was just 17. His father was seventeen too and they both had to drop out of college to take care of a baby. They're still together and now they have four kids. Three girls and a boy. Blake being the oldest and the only boy.

"Yeah, but they love each other. And look how good their future turned out to be. You should be grateful to have such a big and caring family." I told him, squeezing his shoulders.

"I am. Although I would've preferred at least one brother. I know dad would too. Those girls are driving us nuts." He shook his head in annoyance. "You know what Mina did yesterday? She painted my entire room purple. She drew flowers and shit just because I broke her favorite nail polish. Just go to the store and buy another one. There's no need for vengeance."

"She's fifteen, Blake. What else can you expect from a rebellious teenager?" I asked him with a smile. "Just apologize. You know she's the most stubborn member of your family."

"She is pretty stubborn," he agreed. "But Cora comes second. She refuses to take the dog for a walk and I always end up doing it."

I laughed as I imagined a very pissed off Blake fighting with his ten year old sister about who takes out the dog. Little Cora is a diva, and I know for a fact Blake would always end up doing her chores just because she doesn't want to.

"How's Louisa?" I asked him about his three year old sister. The last member of the Mendoza family.

"Pretty good. I think she behaves better than Mina and Cora." He joked.

I chuckled, closing my notebook once I became uninterested in class. "I miss her little face." I pouted cutely.

"You can come by today. Mom and dad are going on a date so I have to babysit." He offered. "We can make pasta and watch a movie."

"You know it's impossible for me to say no to pasta and movies." I grinned like a loon, excited that Blake invited me to his house.

"I know." He smirked handsomely. "That's why I said it."

"Fine, then," I said. "We'll go to your house after school."

"You know coach offered me a spot at the soccer team?" Blake asked once he changed into his volleyball uniform. "There are two spots left and he's going to see today who else is going to be joining me."

"Do you have any preference?" I asked, settling my backpack to the floor and sticking out a dollar from my wallet.

"I think I want Gavin there. He's my best friend." He said, letting his gaze wander to the court where some guys were prepping for practice.

I ordered a water bottle and turned around, my gaze wandering as well. The usual guys were spiking the ball to other side of the court, but it was one guy that took my attention. Brandon.

He threw the ball to Riven, who accommodated it for him and Brandon jumped and spiked the ball to another dimension. Damn. He had some serious skills. Not only was he tall and lean, but he was also strong and fierce. Whoever plays against him must have an incredibly big ambition. Brandon walked around like he was insuperable.

"The new kid looks like he might make the team." Blake said, his blue eyes following Brandon's every move.

"Yeah," I whispered, impressed. Guess he wasn't lying when he said he's been training since he was a kid.

"I'm going to the bathroom." Blake announced with a dejected sigh. "Be back in a sec,"

I nodded, suddenly feeling bad for not making Blake feel better. I grabbed the water bottle from the counter and walked towards the bleachers, taking a seat next to Blake's black backpack. Blake was undoubtedly good at volleyball, he acted fast, he always hit the ball and he was strong. But was he as serious at volleyball as Brandon is? No. Blake only picked up the sport as a hobby, not a career.

"Oh, look who's here," A voice interrupted my thoughts about Blake. "Aren't you the girl from the bathroom?"

I turned around – even though I didn't need to – and saw Brandon Shields leaning against a wall, an annoying smirk plastered across his face. "Khloe?" I scoffed in disgust. "As if I'd ever sleep with you."

His smirk vanished and a frown made the way to his forehead. I could tell he felt insulted. "No, not her. You look like you don't share her skills," he said and his smirk was back to his lips. My eyes widened at his comment and fury was starting to overcome me. "You're the girl who interrupted us."

The fury in me started to subside as he kept talking. "So?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. "It was an accident. Maybe if you'd picked a more secluded spot I could've saved us both the shame."

"Who says I have shame?" He asked, his arms crossed over his chest. "You know you're not the only girl who has found me in that predicament. I'm used to it."

I gape at him. At his shamefulness and at his idiocy. How can a boy be so uncaring about his body? It's like everyone can see him naked and he wouldn't care.

"Look, I just want to make sure you don't tell Griselda a word about what you saw. It's my last year in school and I want to finish it with a clean record." He explained, standing up straight and walking towards me. He stopped when he sat on the bleacher in front of me.

I scoffed a laugh unintentionally at his comment. Finish the year with a clean record? Please, even his mother has to know that a guy like him will never change. Finishing with a clean record will be impossible for him.

"What? You don't think I can do it?" He asked, offended.

"I don't think," I told him. "I know."

"Really?" he inquired with a chuckle. "I will make it, you may not believe it, but I do. It isn't that hard when you're as popular and rich as me."

"You're very narcissistic," I told him. "And I won't tell Griselda. But if you ever decide to talk to me, even if it is to ask me a question, I will tell her, and you'll record will be looking tarnished." I hissed, standing up angrily and stomping outside of the court.

Just how impertinent can a guy be?

After angrily stomping out of the gym, I ran towards my locker and angrily debated wether I should go back in there or not. But why should I even be debating this? Am I really letting a guy like Brandon make me miss Blake's tryouts? Am I really letting him get under my skin?

Blake needed me there. And I was going to be there even if I had to see Brandon's stupidly handsome face. With newfound determination, I grabbed my phone charger from the locker and made my way towards the gym. I found Blake prepping for a game and I quickly ran towards him before I lost the chance to wish him good luck. Brandon was next to him, and after a quick glance at him, I could feel his eyes on me and a huge smirk appearing at his lips. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and tapped Blake's shoulder, hugging him when he turned around.

"Good luck out there," I told him with a wide smile. "I know you're going to make the team. You always do."

"Thanks," he whispered, hugging me back. "I thought you had left."

"I was just looking for my charger." I lied, showing him the cable. I knew if I told him I left because I was molested by Brandon, he would make a scene. Specially when Brandon's literally next to him. "Don't worry. I'll be right here when you finish."

And I was, throughout the entire game I was cheering him on. He had improved a lot over the summer and I couldn't help but feel proud of him. Luckily, the new guys were supposed to have another hour of tryouts, so Brandon didn't have to train this time with Blake.

"Are you ready to go?" Blake asked me once the tryouts had finished. He bid his friends goodbye and walked over to me, a towel in his hand to dry up the sweat pooling at his forehead.

"Yeah," I nodded, picking up my backpack and taking his hand in mine. I could see from his profile, the left cheek of his face slightly lift up in content. I blushed when I felt the warm of his hand on mine. If only I could pause this moment right here and tell him how much he means to me. But I was too afraid to face rejection, I was too afraid to lose what we already have. What if he doesn't feel the same way I do? What will happen to our friendship then?

Will it far apart?

Or will it reach its next destination?

(1) So I know locker rooms are for jocks to change their uniforms and prepare for games or practices, but since I made this high school a private one, I thought it would be nice if I placed some serious rules. Plus, finding a half naked senior there is kind of predictable by now.

Overall this chapter is pretty predictable, but its high school. They're still minors and it's not like they can take a car and drive to Vegas. The next chapter is about a party – yes, cliché. But I'll try to spice it up.

Guest: Hi! First of all, thank you for your kind words! I'm afraid I can't make the boys practice soccer because I already made a whole story based on them playing volleyball. They do play other sports and if it makes you feel better, you can also imagine them playing soccer instead of volleyball. There's no harm in that. Thank you again for your kind words and here's another update that I hope you'll enjoy ;)

If you've read up to this point, I have a very important question to ask you guys. I already planned the story, it's written on a paper chapter by chapter and I managed to write forty of them. The question is; do you guys want a long story of of forty chapter or should I cut some down and leave it at 30 to 35? It's up to you.