Chapter 28 - Football

Take back all the times I'd ever seen Scott eat. This was by FAR the fastest he'd ever devoured a sandwich. Wes and David were sitting open-mouthed – not quite able to believe what they were witnessing.

"Is he even breathing?" David asked, turning to his best friend.

"I have no idea." The senior common room was fairly quiet – lucky for us, and lucky for Scott, as it meant the table of crustless sandwiches had been barely touched. Now, however, it was only half full.

"Is he building on carbs or something? For the game?" Wes asked, still not able to tear his eyes away.

"No. That's just Scott." I laughed, turning to Blaine, who had an equally amused expression on his perfectly formed face. "Sorry – I knew I shouldn't have brought him here."

"Hey, as long as you're here, I don't care who you bring." Tightening his grip around my waist my boyfriend found my lips with his and kissed me softly, lengthening the contact so I melted into the sofa.

"Get a room dudes." Suddenly another voice entered the conversation. My eyes flicked in its direction and widened.

"Oh! So you have time to stop and berate us but not time to breathe?" Scott smiled, his mouth still half full.

"I do when there's a danger that someone's face is going to get sucked off." I shot him a glare before leaning back into Blaine's chest. He chuckled; the vibrations making me tingle, and began to run his fingers absentmindedly through my hair.

"It's true though," Wes suddenly began, leaning back into his seat too, "all you guys seem to do now is mack. And with what we heard last night…" I sat bolt upright.

"You guys HEARD us?" Wes and David's room was at least 3 doors down the corridor – if they'd heard us then…

"Nope. But now we know something definitely went down." Grinning, the two Wordsworth seniors gave each other a hi-five – Scott murmured loudly in appreciation and I scowled, my face turning bright red.

"Dammit."

"Guys." Blaine said, a condescending tone in his voice, but still with the lightness that showed he was joking. "Your love lives must be seriously deprived if this is what you spend your days doing."

"Well, incase you didn't notice – there are no girls hanging around Dalton" David said, an almost sad look on his face as he pondered the thought.

"Carmen is still mad at me for something…" Wes added.

"And my girlfriend is a two hour drive away…" The three boys started off into space, the corners of their mouths turned down with depression and I couldn't help it. I laughed.

"Oh dear. You really are losers." All of them shot me glares, before we smiled and I snuggled further into Blaine. "This is why I like boys." He chuckled again. Jeez every time that got me going.

"This is why I like Kurt." Another groan emanated from our observers but I didn't care, reaching my hand behind Blaine's neck to pull him down and let my tongue do some work.

Although it didn't seem like it – Scott was playing football tonight. Far from Artem's constant panic attacks and inability to eat more than a mouthful, my best friend was completely normal – overly normal in fact. After demolishing most of the senior common room sandwiches he then moved on to cookies in the cafeteria (which I was forced to stop by with him on the way to Spanish) and a ginormous glass of milk that I probably could have done a couple of lengths in. I presumed this was his normal pre-match warm up, but hoped it would all digest by the evening, or we might witness a display other than the football.

Obviously a few hours before the game everyone went off to prepare, so I was left to my own devices. I wrote a bit more of the history paper that was due next week and spent the rest of the time putting on as many layers as I could before Artem, Stefan and I made our way to the field.

"IT'S FREEZING!" I moaned, my teeth chattering as I spoke. It wasn't even five o'clock, but the cold air was whipping against my face as I clutched my coat closer against me. Summer could hurry up and arrive, because this weather sucked.

"I know – why does football have to be a winter sport?" Wes looked almost as cold as I did – his scarf wrapped around his face like a balaclava and his voice muffled from underneath it. I turned to look at Artem and Stefan and laughed. They barely even had coats on.

"Is the weather like this all the time in Europe?" Artem looked at me and smiled.

"In Russia, this is like summer." I shivered to even think about it.

As there weren't enough players to have each individual house compete against each other, the football tournament would have the W houses playing against the D's. This already increased the rivalry, but also meant I could stand with the rest of the Wordsworthians and support Scott without feeling guilty. Not that I would have minded either way.

"There they are." David pointed to the two teams running out onto the pitch. My eyes immediately searched the group for Scott, but he wasn't hard to pick out – darting about like he was on fire, jumping high in air every so often. I dreaded to think what he must have been like as a child.

"Scott looks crazy." Artem said, having also picked out the junior.

"When does he not?" Wes and David added simultaneously, bumping fists. Behind the hyped up athletes Blaine and Nathaniel walked calmly together, both discussing tactics with each other. Xavier and Hunter seemed to be doing them same, but with his huge muscly frame the Darwin Head Boy looked very much like one of the players.

"I'm nervous." The words had escaped from my mouth before I even realised. Stefan turned to look at me, his expression blank but his eyebrows furrowed.

"Why?"

"I don't know." I replied, confusion gracing my tone. "I just feel like something's going to happen." Scanning my eyes across the pitch I suddenly caught sight of two figures on the D team sprinting up and down the field. We hadn't seen any more of Oscar and Phoenix since our encounter at the fencing, but Scott had told me he sensed something was brewing. I only hoped whatever it was wouldn't affect the game.

"Hey." I'd been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed anyone come up beside me – the sound of a voice so close made me lurch backwards so I almost knocked the cocoa out of David's hand.

"Sorry." Looking back at the person who had startled me, my heart sank.

"Gabriel." It seemed my friendly warning hadn't been enough. Here he was again – albeit with slightly more layers on, but still that same hopeful look on his face.

"Wait!" I'd been about to cause a scene, shout something and then storm off, when the mousy haired boy jerked out his hand. "I'm not here to make trouble." I laughed, pulling my hand away from his, but the look in his eyes was sincere.

"You'd better not." Mumbled from my lips. Gabriel's expression wavered slightly but he continued strongly.

"I want to apologise. I should have seen you and Blaine coming – it was just a bit of a shock, that's all. I hope we can still be friends." Glancing over at David for some support he shrugged his shoulders – Wes was no use either. Did I want to be friends? I suppose that was what I had intended originally. And Gabriel was actually quite a nice person. A long sigh escaped from my lips.

"Ok." Grey eyes brightened but Gabriel made sure to keep his reaction small. At least he was learning.

"Is Blaine with the team?"

"Yup." Looking back down I was filled with sadness again. That was one of the things I hated about his Head Boy duties – he never got to stand with everyone like a normal student. Which was all the more annoying when I was cold and wanted a human blanket.

"Hey, I think it's starting." Artem said, pointing to the teams who were assembling on the pitch. We all sat down in our seats and I tried to focus on the players and Blaine sitting pitch side, not the person sitting next to me.

I have to admit – I'd never found football that appealing. You'd think with all the muscly testosterone filled men crashing into each other it would be some kind of gay haven. But to be honest I found it all rather childish and pointless. That didn't mean to say however, that I wasn't swept up by the hysteria of this game. It was hard to avoid – the intense rivalry between the W's and the D's coming to my attention properly for the first time. Winning was everything, and it didn't seem to matter how you did it. The first five minutes and someone was already down, immediately I strained my eyes but it wasn't Scott, although he seemed to be doing a fine job a riling some of the D players to the point of oblivion. Maybe that was why he was such an asset to the team – that and the fact he could run into almost anything without even batting an eyelid. Twenty minutes in and the first touchdown was scored. The W stand erupted and I was so caught up in the celebrations that I grabbed hold of Gabriel's arm, jumping with him. Most of the time I had no idea what was going on, but it was brilliant all the same.

The score was close, but when the final whistle blew the W's had won. We went crazy. Wes and David pulled me into a huge hug, ruffling my hair in a way that normally would have had me screaming, but right now didn't bother me at all. Artem and Stefan were hugging and jumping and Gabriel had his fist in the air – for the first time in a while it felt like we were all a team.

As soon as I was able to I ran down the stand towards the pitch. I was aiming for Scott but found Blaine first – he opened his arms wide and I leapt into them, letting him spin me around and both of us laughing excitedly.

"That was so fun I don't even like football but it was so fun!" I burbled, caught up in the fun of it all and Blaine laughed again, before pressing his lips earnestly to mine. Celebration kisses were almost as good as making up kisses and hormone filled kisses and soft blissfully happy kisses. I could have allowed myself to get lost in it, or pull him straight off to some deserted locker room and continue in the same vein, but our moment was broken by me spying Scott out of the corner of my eye.

"Scott!" He looked ecstatic, waving his helmet frantically in the air, his eyes wide with excitement and exhilaration. When our eyes met this was heightened further – he ran up to me at such a speed that I briefly feared for my life, but luckily the masses of pads meant that the hit was mostly absorbed, and I was instead crushed by his arms.

"KURT WE WON! KURT WE WON! KURT WE WON!" He exclaimed, jumping up and down so I felt my brain rattle against my skull. I laughed, trying to speak but failing, everything so lost in the huge haze of happiness that enveloped everything.

"Hey Scott – you got MVP!" One of the other players came over, an equally huge grin on his face, clapping my best friend on the shoulder with even more force than he normally did. For a second the junior seemed confused, before his eyes widened again and his mouth stretched.

"I GOT MVP? HELL YES!" Letting go of me to bound off towards the team I laughed again, feeling Blaine's arms slip round me once again.

"Fully deserved." My boyfriend muttered into my ear. "His annoying basically won the team the game."

"Finally a place where that is useful." I smiled, watching the captain of the team hand Scott a huge bottle of champagne. I watched him shake it, shouting out burbles of words that didn't really make much sense but still made my heart happy, before popping off the cork.

The champagne gushed down, hitting the soft green of the grass and sending out splashes of bubbles that nearly reached my feet. In shock everyone looked up at Scott, whose trousers were now completely soaked, his face also wet from the liquid that had rebounded upwards.

"What?" It took a while for me to comprehend, until I saw the bottom of the bottle, the base flapping open, the trigger having opened it.

"Oh…" Suddenly laughter rang out, everyone turned to see Phoenix and Oscar bent over, tears spilling from their eyes.

"Nice celebration Macleod!" Oscar shouted in between guffaws, Phoenix grabbed onto his shoulder and they almost fell over. Oh no… I flashed my eyes back to Scott, expecting to see his face red, his fists clenched, ready to rush out and stop the fight that was inevitably going to happen. But to my surprise, he seemed calm. His arms were outstretched, but his fingers were relaxed, almost inviting.

"Well done guys." He said, the tone of his voice unnerving. "You got me."

"Oh, we got you alright! You are got!" This had to be the breaking point, it had to be. Why was he so calm?

"I know. And I just wanna say…" Suddenly he paused, the whole crowd were silent, leaning forward to hear, even the two pranksters halting their laughter. "…Good luck getting out of your pads." Another brief silence descended again. I turned to Blaine, confusion in my expression, wanting to know what was going on. He had a smile on his face.

"Look at them." Pointing his finger I followed it to Phoenix and Oscar. They were both looking at each other, their gleeful expressions now far far away. Gingerly Phoenix reached out towards Oscar's shoulder, where the fabric of his shirt rested over the plastic pads that had kept him safe during the game. For a second he hovered over it, unsure whether to proceed, before he softly tugged at the shirt. The pad moved with it.

"Oh my God." Somebody nearby said. Phoenix tugged harder – the pad jerked violently but still stayed fixed to the shirt. Oscar's expression became panicked.

"He glued their pads together!" Now I understood what was happening a huge grin spread across my face. Scott had known. He'd known this was going to happen – that Phoenix and Oscar were going to strike first and prank him. And he'd fought back.

"MACLEOD!" Phoenix's expression was enraged – people around us had begun to laugh and Scott had a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"Guys." He said, raising his hands in the air like he was leading an army. "The prank war is on."