A/N: I'm thinking about making the chapters longer? What do you all think?
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I watched dad scamper in and out of my room, fussing over me sufferably. "Dad I am fine, stop fussing over me." I called out to him.
"No your not." He yelled back. "And I'm your father, I'm supposed to fuss. It's included in the job title." He walked into my room, carrying a thermometer. He sat beside me on my bed, and tried to stick it in my mouth. I clamped my lips together tightly, and shook my head. He frowned at me, then dropped the thermometer. "Moira."
"Dad. Listen to me. I'm not sick. I do not have a fever. I am fine, and I want to get out of bed!" I said seriously. Outside actually looked clear, which was rare.
"Your not fine. There will be after shocks." Dad informed me. I raised an eyebrow.
"What makes you think that?"
He sighed heavily before answering. "Your mother was a seer." From what I knew about the wiccan world, seers were like one in a billion.
"Ha. What'dya know." I mumbled blankly. "My mother. A seer. Anything else I should know about her?"
"The point is," dad said, side-stepping my question, "she was a seer. I was with her every time she did...that...and she always had aftershocks."
"As hard as it is to realize this dad, I'm not her. I'm not a super witch, and I'm not a seer. I am however, going to late for my soccer game if I don't get up right now!" Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared at dad.
"No." He said shortly. I pushed my blanket off myself. He pushed it back.
"Dad, it's the provincials. I need to be there." I told him. His face softened a little. "Please. I'll goto my game, and I'll come back and get right back into this bed."
"Fine. But I'm coming to watch."
"Fine by me. Now get out." I smirked. He left long enough for me to change, and put my hair up, then came back. "Fine." I assured him.
"You wear that to a soccer game?" He asked, as he pulled into the parking lot. I looked down. I was wearing my uniform; a blue shirt with the team logo and sponsor on it, with my black shorts, and my nice high socks and shin pads. "Those shorts are a little short."
"Oh really," I raised an eyebrow. "I was thinking they were too long you know, hike em up a bit." I joked, and grabbed my duffel bag.
"Moira, where the hell have you been?!" Kyrie exclaimed, sending a soccer ball my way. I caught it with the inside of my foot, and sent it sailing into the net. "Nice shot."
"Thanks."
"Moira, please don't try and kill our goalie before the game even begins." I looked over at Gabe, who was still sitting on the ground.
"Sorry Gabe!"I called.
"Still alive," he called with his thumbs in the air. Kyrie got another stray ball, and we started passing back and forth.
"Look who's coming," Kyrie sing-songed, looking over my shoulder. I booted the ball back to her, not bothering to look back. It was either Marris, the guy who couldn't take no for an answer, or Landon, the guy who I wouldn't say no to. Kyrie expertly nailed the ball, with just the right amount of air, and it soared to my left. I stretched and caught it.
"Word from the wise Ky," I set the ball on my hip, and held it in place. "Don't try and score on a former goalie."
I felt the ball being pushed away suddenly, and arms taking its place. "Who's trying to score on you? I thought I already did that." Landon whispered in my ear.
"Shut up." I joked.
I turned around
completely, and kissed
him.
"Eww." Kyrie and Jory hissed at the same time. Jory is Landon's youngest brother, only four.
"Goober, go play on the playground." He smiled at his little brother.
"My name is Jory, not Goober." He said, crossing his arms.
"Yea. Jory not Goober." Kyrie and I chuckled at the same time.
Landon raised his eyebrows. "You two are freaky." I kissed him again.
"Mo, hate to interrupt, but I think your dad's hair just went red, you know. Oh, look his eyes are glowing." Landon pulled away quickly. Dad was quite rough on him, and loved to make him squirm.
"Your dad's here?"
"Long story." The couch blew the whistle, signaling the team round up. Landon sent Jory to play on the playground with his other two brothers, and the three of us ran up to our net.
"Moira, I want you in net for the first half." We all looked at our couch like she was insane.
"Why?"
"Wessfield plays hard the first half and weakens out the second. I know Gabe is just as good, but I want you going strong, and not to tired in the second half." She handed me the plain gold jersey. Our team wore the blue and gold stripped shirts, and black shorts. We were more the...laid back team in the color department team.
The whistle was blown, and the game started. I paced around the goal area for a bit, then the ball finally came down into our territory. The girl was half way between me and the center line. She kicked hard, and it was sailing towards my face, when again I felt it. Electricity built up in my blood. Smack...the ball hit me, as I was about to fall over anyway.
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I watched dad scamper in and out of my room, fussing over me sufferably. "Dad I am fine, stop fussing over me." I called out to him.
"No your not." He yelled back. "And I'm your father, I'm supposed to fuss. It's included in the job title." He walked into my room, carrying a thermometer. He sat beside me on my bed, and tried to stick it in my mouth. I clamped my lips together tightly, and shook my head. He frowned at me, then dropped the thermometer. "Moira."
"Dad. Listen to me. I'm not sick. I do not have a fever. I am fine, and I want to get out of bed!" I said seriously. Outside actually looked clear, which was rare.
"Your not fine. There will be after shocks." Dad informed me. I raised an eyebrow.
"What makes you think that?"
He sighed heavily before answering. "Your mother was a seer." From what I knew about the wiccan world, seers were like one in a billion.
"Ha. What'dya know." I mumbled blankly. "My mother. A seer. Anything else I should know about her?"
"The point is," dad said, side-stepping my question, "she was a seer. I was with her every time she did...that...and she always had aftershocks."
"As hard as it is to realize this dad, I'm not her. I'm not a super witch, and I'm not a seer. I am however, going to late for my soccer game if I don't get up right now!" Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared at dad.
"No." He said shortly. I pushed my blanket off myself. He pushed it back.
"Dad, it's the provincials. I need to be there." I told him. His face softened a little. "Please. I'll goto my game, and I'll come back and get right back into this bed."
"Fine. But I'm coming to watch."
"Fine by me. Now get out." I smirked. He left long enough for me to change, and put my hair up, then came back. "Fine." I assured him.
"You wear that to a soccer game?" He asked, as he pulled into the parking lot. I looked down. I was wearing my uniform; a blue shirt with the team logo and sponsor on it, with my black shorts, and my nice high socks and shin pads. "Those shorts are a little short."
"Oh really," I raised an eyebrow. "I was thinking they were too long you know, hike em up a bit." I joked, and grabbed my duffel bag.
"Moira, where the hell have you been?!" Kyrie exclaimed, sending a soccer ball my way. I caught it with the inside of my foot, and sent it sailing into the net. "Nice shot."
"Thanks."
"Moira, please don't try and kill our goalie before the game even begins." I looked over at Gabe, who was still sitting on the ground.
"Sorry Gabe!"I called.
"Still alive," he called with his thumbs in the air. Kyrie got another stray ball, and we started passing back and forth.
"Look who's coming," Kyrie sing-songed, looking over my shoulder. I booted the ball back to her, not bothering to look back. It was either Marris, the guy who couldn't take no for an answer, or Landon, the guy who I wouldn't say no to. Kyrie expertly nailed the ball, with just the right amount of air, and it soared to my left. I stretched and caught it.
"Word from the wise Ky," I set the ball on my hip, and held it in place. "Don't try and score on a former goalie."
I felt the ball being pushed away suddenly, and arms taking its place. "Who's trying to score on you? I thought I already did that." Landon whispered in my ear.
"Shut up." I joked.
I turned around
completely, and kissed
him.
"Eww." Kyrie and Jory hissed at the same time. Jory is Landon's youngest brother, only four.
"Goober, go play on the playground." He smiled at his little brother.
"My name is Jory, not Goober." He said, crossing his arms.
"Yea. Jory not Goober." Kyrie and I chuckled at the same time.
Landon raised his eyebrows. "You two are freaky." I kissed him again.
"Mo, hate to interrupt, but I think your dad's hair just went red, you know. Oh, look his eyes are glowing." Landon pulled away quickly. Dad was quite rough on him, and loved to make him squirm.
"Your dad's here?"
"Long story." The couch blew the whistle, signaling the team round up. Landon sent Jory to play on the playground with his other two brothers, and the three of us ran up to our net.
"Moira, I want you in net for the first half." We all looked at our couch like she was insane.
"Why?"
"Wessfield plays hard the first half and weakens out the second. I know Gabe is just as good, but I want you going strong, and not to tired in the second half." She handed me the plain gold jersey. Our team wore the blue and gold stripped shirts, and black shorts. We were more the...laid back team in the color department team.
The whistle was blown, and the game started. I paced around the goal area for a bit, then the ball finally came down into our territory. The girl was half way between me and the center line. She kicked hard, and it was sailing towards my face, when again I felt it. Electricity built up in my blood. Smack...the ball hit me, as I was about to fall over anyway.
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