The Tournament: Charlene, a soccer player, accidentally stumbles upon a recognizable face.
A request by PrincessWilla101 that was slightly altered. Hope you enjoy!
If Charlene had been paying attention, maybe she would have come off less rude. Doing warm-ups in ninety degree weather was somewhat cruel to begin with though and the campus Disney Sports complex was crowded.
Seeking refuge from the on forgiving sun, blonde haired Charlene strutted away from her soccer team to the shade of a near-by building wall. In the shadows she performed her lunges, her jacks, knee-ups, and stretches all while listening to her iPod and trying to relax. This was her first real tournament and though soccer was not her favorite of the sports her competitive nature was winning out.
Pacing and swinging her thin arms in circles turned out to be more problematic than it sounded.
At that very moment, a frail looking girl with short, wavy, deep brown hair rounded the corner. The items she was carrying soon ended scattered on the ground for Charlene nearly knocked her out.
"I am so sorry!" the blonde repeated frantically pulling out her headphones.
The brunette threw her hands out around her, trying to regain some balance. "No, no," she amended. "It's all right. The fault was mine." She knelt down to pick up her tossed belongings. "My mind was elsewhere. Wasn't paying attention."
The girl was familiar looking.
Charlene leaned over to help. She then noticed what all had scattered: dozens of arrows.
"Are you in the archery contest?"
The other girl lifted an eyebrow underneath the classic sixth grade bang haircut. "That obvious?" she asked sarcastically.
Laughing to hide the embarrassment, Charlene grabbed an arrow that was rolling away.
"My parents thought it may come in handy one day if I knew how to use a bow. Honestly, I think they are a bit crazy. But, you know . . . gotta listen to them."
"It's cool. Rare," the pair stood up. "I am not really a fan of soccer either. Actually hoping to leave at the end of the season and join the cheerleading or the gymnastics team."
"Well," said the girl as she settled the last few arrows into the holder in her arms. "I wish you luck then." She began to walk away.
"Wait!" The girl turned around. "Have we met before?" Charlene asked. "You just look very familiar."
In a small voice the girl answered, the box was riding the side of her school tee shirt up on the side, exposing skin. "Is that why you knocked me over?"
"No, no! Just . . ." she paused. "Did you audition for the Orlando theatre company production a few weeks ago? Is that where I saw you?"
"I did," she looked shocked. "Wow, you must have a good memory. Sorry, to say I didn't make it past the callback."
Charlene shrugged. "I didn't either." She smiled, "It's all right though, there will be more auditions. I'm Charlene."
She held out her hand. "Sorry," she nodded at the arrows, "forgot your hands were full."
The girl grinned. "Isabella, but everyone calls me Willa. "
"Huh, what a coincidence, meeting up here." She tilted her head. "Maybe we will see each other again, Willa."
"Good luck with your game," she turned to leave but caught herself. "Try not to hit anyone else, okay?"