"Oh, please! You need a break already? Whassamatter? Too much competition?"
Elias Eberhardt grit his teeth in silent frustration. They had been playing for hours and she still wasn't tired. Granted, she wasn't winning, but it was…a close game. And he had homework to do. He didn't bother to answer her (probably rhetorical) questions of taunt because he knew he'd just get another earful of trash talk. He dribbled the basketball, alternating between hands as he contemplated his next move. His eyes found Monique's, and the worry she held there was evident. A smile threatened to tug at his lips, but he kept his face carefully blank. He had her. Better yet, he had the game.
Like a cobra, he struck with deadly accuracy. He feinted to the left, then pushed off of his left foot. Monique reacted quickly, but not quickly enough—she was caught off-balance by his quick change. He quickly dribbled around her and sped up the court as she attempted to regain her position between him and the net.
She didn't.
Elias smirked with satisfaction as the ball swished cleanly through the net, but making sure to keep his face carefully blank as he turned towards his opponent and held out his hand. "Nice game."
"Thanks," she said grudgingly, shaking his hand. Both immediately wiped them off on their shorts; after two and a half hours of playing in the hot sun they were extremely sweaty. Monique slid the ponytail holder out of her wild curls, wincing as she extracted it from the dark tangled mess. "Great," she muttered. Her hair puffed out in all directions. Elias had to chuckle a little at the expression on her face; she looked like she had stepped in some dog you-know-what. After silently considering something, she sighed and began to tie it back up. Elias jerked his head away from the basketball court, towards where he knew his sisters and the two blond idiots would be sitting.
"Head back?" He asked.
"Sure."
He turned. He froze. He literally gulped. There she was. Why was she here? Why did she always tend to turn up? Why was he talking to himself? Why couldn't he stop? He mentally kicked himself. He closed his eyes for the briefest moment, took a deep breath. Calmed himself. He opened them. And the sun was glinting off of her hair. Oh, God.
She hadn't seen him yet; she was engaged in conversation with Iggy. Something clenched in his chest, and he noticed he was gripping the ball so tightly his knuckles had turned white. She turned around. He dropped it.
She looked so…shocked to see him there. It was actually kind of…adorable? He curled his toes inside his converse. His ratty, black converse that his mom had tried to throw away just weeks ago. He metaphorically rounded up his feelings, shoved them into a shiny, black, metaphorical garbage bag, and pushed it down some metaphorical stairs, where he (metaphorically) stomped up and down on it over and over and over and ov—
"Why the hell are you wearing black?"
What?
Oh. Talking. Conversation. Oh. Ohhh. Ohhh, no.
The corners of her mouth lifted up and down when she spoke. She was amused. She continued.
"I mean, it's like 85 degrees outside. Why would you wear black?"
He took a moment. Realized he was raising his eyebrow. She probably thought he was an ass. Well, he reflected, he kind of was an ass, but he believed in good first impressions. Although…how many times had he run into her before? 5? Okay, so good fifth impressions. They mattered. Wait, but now she was raising her eyebrow. It was actually kind of hot. Not adorable at all. They stared at each other. She had freckles on her nose. Lightly sprinkled across the bridge, maybe from long hours in the sun. Corliss had told him that she played soccer. He wondered if she was good. She continued to stare him down, not blinking. She was playing to win. He bet she was good. Really, really good.
Her resolve was beginning to crumble. He could tell. He didn't know how, but he read it in her face. He had never met anyone quite like her before, though Los Angeles was a huge city. He just knew somehow she was going to be different. Or maybe he didn't know, and was just hoping. All he truly knew was that he needed to be closer to her, right that instant. Before he knew it, he was grinning, leaning in. To kiss her? No, that wouldn't be right. No, stop it. God. Just…talk to her. What to say? Her eyes were widening. They were soft and brown, lighter than those of his sisters. Like a, what was it, again? Baby deer. A fawn. Yeah. Say something. She'll think you're even more bizarre than she already does. She'll pull away. He glanced down. Her shoes. Converse. High-tops. Worn and black. Positively ratty.
She was gazing at him in confusion. He could smell her shampoo. Her skin smelled like coconuts and sweat. He spoke, his mouth feeling dry.
"Nice shoes."
Heyy! Sorry that took so long. Welcome to new followers/readers! Your new reviews made me smile. :) I know this is a super, super short chapter but I just honestly need to go to bed. And, I might update tomorrow if I get enough reviews! Let me know in your review of any questions or concerns you may have regarding the story, or even suggestions for it! I love to hear from you. And if you take a couple minutes and hit that review button, you might get ANOTHER CHAPTER tomorrow! Wow, such amazing. Well, I'll see you all next chapter, be it tomorrow or next week. Thanks for reading! You are all amazing.
M