DEDICATED TO: An anonymous reviewer by the name of Death. You made me smile. =D
Many thanks also to Love My Writing Or Else, who gave me stellar grades on my report card. =D I wish all of my teachers thought like you.
Someone's review reminded me of something: a few of you guys (who I love forever) actually guessed my age. I was very pleased by some of your answers. =D But some people haven't done their research! XD If you read my story The iPod Screen, you'll find out how old I am. Plus, if I do say so myself, it's a pretty kick-ass story. =D
A special shout out to Lilac Rose6, who complained justly of my abuse to the Daleview Mustangs.
Gazzy: BOO MUSTANGS!
Nudge: YOU ALL SUCK!
Gazzy: Well, except for Marina. –grins-
Terra: -appears out of nowhere- -slaps Gazzy- -disappears-
Gazzy: OW!
GUYS! -_-" Well, I'm sorry to those whose school mascots are mustangs. My rival school are mustangs, so yeah… hence the bashing. XD
On with School Days! Let the intense soccer-ness begin!
FPOV
Max and I barely spoke during homeroom. We didn't need to talk to confirm that all we were thinking about was the game later today.
This would show how well the Cromwell Lynxes really played together, whether we were truly good enough or not. Anne had also hinted that it would determine the number of Death Defiers required in practice tomorrow. I needed to focus all of my attention on it, and I knew Max felt the same way.
This is why I was surprised when Max nudged me halfway through announcements, somehow managing to look mischievous and solemn at the same time.
"Fang," she whispered, her brown eyes huge. "I just lost the game."
I frowned at her. "Max, you can't think negatively like that. The game starts in eight hours and forty-eight minutes."
Max looked puzzled for a moment. "You're counting down the minutes? But never mind that. I wasn't talking about the soccer game! I was talking aboutTHE Game!" she insisted.
I stared at her for a moment before I realized what she was saying. It dawned on me slowly, and I elbowed Max in the ribs as retaliation. "Aww, you're a jerk! You made me lose the game!" I shook my head at her as she grinned and started laughing. "That was low, Max, low."
Max smiled sweetly at me. "Of course! I'm so low that I'm below sea level, Fangles!"
I rolled my eyes. "Lame, Max, lame."
"Do you enjoy sandwiching my name between words?" Max asked, her forehead wrinkled slightly.
"What?" I asked, confused.
"Low, Max, low. Lame, Max, lame," she grunted, performing a horrible imitation of my voice. "Like that," she explained.
"I dunno," I replied, shrugging. "But you certainly don't have Gazzy's gift for mimicry. I don't sound like that at all."
"Yeah you do," Max argued, poking my shoulder to emphasize her point.
"Uh, no I don't," I disagreed. "That's like saying you sound like this." I paused for a moment, then mustered up the highest sounding squeak I could manage. "OMG, my name is like, Max! Yay! Nail polish!" I tittered.
Max stared at me, looking slightly alarmed. "Never do that again," she ordered, sounding deeply disturbed. "That was totally unnatural and altogether too creepy for words."
I flashed her a smile. "I do my best."
Suddenly, the homeroom bell rang, jarring us out of our conversation. "I hadn't even realized announcements ended," I remarked, gathering my stuff up and walking out towards science.
Max smirked, flipping her ponytail dramatically over her shoulder. "I'm good at distracting people," she replied.
I glared at several boys who looked to be juniors, causing them to break their gazes away from Max's ass. "Yeah, you definitely are," I muttered, shooting a last dark look towards the juniors as they hurried away. Despite the fact I was only a freshman, I had taught the older guys in school very early in the year I was a force to be reckoned with.
I smiled at the memory. Good times, good times.
Max didn't even seem to notice the boys' stares. I wouldn't be surprised if she got their reaction a lot.
However, Max surprised me by smiling at me, gently bumping her shoulder against mine as she did so. "Thanks," she murmured in response to my raised eyebrow. "About those guys."
"No prob. That's what besties are for, right?" I asked, getting a laugh out of her in response.
I guess she had noticed them, then. Max is more perceptive than I gave her credit for.
We continued down the hall to science, where we split up to sit in our separate desks. I watched as Max sat down next to JJ, her heels bouncing up and down under the desk as a result of pent up energy. I felt exactly the same way. It was just a good thing that Mr. Lundom was teaching some sort of easy theory for the whole period, because I couldn't pay any attention to the droning sound of his voice.
"What's wrong with you?" Terence asked in a whisper. Mr. Lundom started lecturing about some sort of vague topic I couldn't focus on.
"Soccer game today. First of the season," I explained, drumming my heels against my chair.
Terence still looked mystified by my behavior, but he didn't comment again. Non-athletes just couldn't understand how I was feeling at the moment.
I went through the rest of the day in a sort of daze, not paying very much attention to my surroundings, or really understanding what anyone said to me. The only voices that were clear to my ears belonged to Max, Gazzy, and Iggy.
At lunch, Max and I sat silently, staring off into space. Nudge was babbling even more feverishly than usual, filling our ears with talk of everything and anything that popped into her mind. Gazzy was dealing with the anticipation his own way, which meant he was busily disassembling a large and complicated piece of machinery, his lunch cast off to the side. I didn't even bother asking where he had got it from. Gazzy had his ways.
Iggy and Terra didn't bother trying to talk to us, and instead conversed with Ella, who was acting surprisingly normal. She just seemed bubblier than usual, but maybe that was my imagination. Ella always seemed too peppy for me to fully comprehend. I just didn't understand what there was she was so thrilled about all the time.
"Fang, are you planning on eating your fingers?" Max asked suddenly, breaking me out of my thoughts.
I raised an eyebrow at her. "No, I was going to eat my sandwich," I replied slowly, wondering if the excitement of the game had gotten to her brain somehow.
"What sandwich?" Max asked, obviously amused for some reason. I looked down at the sandwich in my hands, about to correct her, when I realized that my food had disappeared.
"Where'd it go?" I asked stupidly, feeling slightly lost for a moment.
Max laughed at the expression on my face, the determined look of concentration she had worn all day disappearing instantly. "You ate it, you idiot!" she gasped through her laughter.
I frowned at my empty fingers. I had no recollection of finishing my sandwich. "No I didn't," I insisted.
"I watched you eat it," Max informed me, finally recovering from her laughter and settling for a wide grin instead. "I saw you put the last bite in your mouth, chew, and swallow literally thirty seconds ago!"
"I didn't eat it," I declared, my tone final. I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously. "Maybe you ate it, Max," I accused.
Max's eyes widened almost comically. "I didn't eat it," she protested, flailing her hands around. "I have my own! You ate your freaking sandwich!"
"I don't remember it, though," I argued. "So obviously you took it while I was spacing out so you could laugh at me."
Max rolled her eyes. "Fang, I solemnly swear on my beautiful golden cleats that I didn't eat your freaking sandwich."
Max had recently gotten new cleats, as her old ones had suddenly split open mid-kick at practice last week. The new cleats were black, with a rich gold coloring each spike, and flowing up the heels and insteps. Max adored them, and had taken to cleaning them after every use, something she had never bothered to do with her old ones.
"Are you sure?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes at her.
Max looked shocked. "I swore on my cleats! The only thing more precious than them is my soul!"
"I'm still not convinced," I replied steadily. "I need proof."
"Do you want me to pump your stomach and show you the half-digested remains of your sandwich to show you?" Max asked snidely.
I chose to ignore her comment.
Gazzy looked up from the tangle of wire and metal he was dismantling, an exasperated expression on his face. "Fang, before you do anything idiotic, you ate your sandwich. Max didn't eat it. Deal, okay?" he drawled. Max and Terra laughed, but I scowled at him.
"The truth is a cruel, cruel thing, Fangles," Max informed me, her wide smile not quite fitting with her words of wisdom.
"I still think you ate it," I muttered. Before anyone could say anything else, I stood up from the table, tossed my empty lunch bag in a trash can, and strode quickly out of the cafeteria.
Behind me, I could hear Gazzy saying, quite loudly, "Fang is an ass, you know?"
"Yeah," Max agreed, almost fondly. "But he's our ass."
Lovely.
I pushed open the cafeteria doors, and headed outside. There was a vague plan in my mind to roam the hallways until art, but I had over half an hour to kill before the class began. I meandered over to my locker as slowly as I could, trying to burn some time.
It took three minutes.
I sighed, fiddling with the combination lock for about thirty seconds before it popped open. As I took out my binder for art, my gaze landed on my sketchbook. I hadn't drawn freestyle in awhile- in art we had been doing assigned drawing with oil pastels and colored pencils.
Doodling would be an excellent way to kill time.
Grabbing the sketchbook, I slammed the locker shut and set off down the hallway. Ms. Rykitel wasn't in her room yet, so I settled myself on the ground beside her door. I examined my pencil case for a moment, digging around first for a good eraser. It took a moment of searching, but I finally discovered one tucked into the back. Once I had fished it out, I picked up a pencil at random and flipped to a clean page in my sketchbook.
My pencil hesitated for a moment over the surface of the paper, swirling patterns midair. What did I want to draw?
Finally, the tip of the pencil hit the paper, sketching out a slightly pointed chin, surrounded by a curtain of light-colored hair. The shoulders appeared, strong and broad, followed by the slender curves of the torso. The torso melted into the hips, which stretched out into legs, one crossed haughtily over the other. The feet were last, clad in a pair of tattered black Converse.
My pencil reached back up to the shoulders, sketching the arms in a crossed position over the torso. I finished the body off by shaping in the rest of the head, covered in long, light hair that reached her elbows. Several pale wisps fell into her darkly shaded eyes. Then her mouth appeared, curving into a knowing smile. I drew in a straight nose, and dotted a few freckles in the right spots.
Once the details of her face were done, I stopped drawing. A smile tugged at my own mouth as I surveyed the sketch.
I didn't need to draw in the clothing details to know that this was Maximum Ride.
Max had been appearing in my drawings more and more often lately. My freestyle drawing usually tended to be a place where I unleashed my thoughts, so I knew that there was something significant about her almost constant presence in them. However, I couldn't really determine what it was. Max was my best friend, that was true. Was that fact enough to make her constantly in my thoughts? Iggy was also my best friend, as was Gazzy, yet neither of them appeared in my drawings half as much as Max did.
They're just not as pretty as her, a mischievous little voice reasoned in my head. I smiled again at the thought, but it didn't quite ring true. There was a deeper reason, I was sure.
The most puzzling thing about this drawing was that it only showed
Max. Yet, today I had been focused completely on the soccer game. Not a single shred of soccer had appeared in this drawing. It was only Max.
Strange.
"What's with you, Max?" I wondered aloud. The drawing remained silent, smiling at me confidently in true Max Ride fashion.
"Yo, Fangles!"
Speak of the devil. "Hi Max," I replied, not looking up from my drawing.
Max plopped down next to me, but I still didn't look up from the drawing. "Whatcha drawing?" she inquired.
I looked up at her to reply, but stopped mid breath, completely thrown by her appearance. "What the hell?" I shouted, making Max jump in surprise. "What happened to your face, Max?" Before I could think properly about my actions, I grabbed her face in my hands and started inspecting the damage.
Max grinned at me, displaying a cut lip. "Isn't it beautiful?" she asked fondly, reaching a hand up to her eye.
It was horribly bruised, her eye swelling until it was half-shut. "Who gave you a black eye?" I demanded, tracing a finger around the outline of it.
Max winced at my touch, slapping my hands away from her face. "Don't worry, I gave them a good pounding. Is that me?" she asked cheerfully, peering over at my drawing instead of answering my question. I slammed the sketchbook shut. "Answer the question," I ordered, daring her to try and distract me again.
Max huffed, falling silent for a moment. We stared each other down, Max defiantly glaring at me out of one brown eye. "None of your business," she growled finally.
"Yeah it is," I disagreed. "Besties, remember?"
"Dammit, I forgot," Max muttered. I didn't smile, my gaze trained solely on the swollen, reddish condition of her left eye.
"Please?" I asked softly, breaking the silence that had fallen again. "I need to know who to kill," I added in way of explanation.
Max finally smiled, the cut on her lip widening further. She didn't seem to notice. "Oh, thanks for the offer, but I already took care of him. If you think this is bad," Max gestured towards her black eye, "you should see the other guy."
I smiled reluctantly, knowing that Max was fully capable of dispatching anyone who bothered her. Apparently she had taken tae kwon do from age six to until she moved to California. Max had displayed her amazing skills for us on Ford in soccer practice one day. Even though Ford was literally seven inches taller than her, she took him out easily. This gained her mucho respect points from the rest of the team. "But really, Max," I persisted. "Who pissed you off this time?"
Max grimaced, as if there was a sour taste stuck in her mouth. "Max II," she finally said, flipping my sketchbook open and studying my drawings so she didn't have to look at me.
I scowled at the sound of his name. "That bastard," I growled, clenching my fists. The pencil in my hand snapped in half.
Max looked alarmed, standing up and beginning to pace the hallway in front of me. "Fang, don't worry," she ordered. "I beat him up for it. He was just being a jerk, so I took him down a few pegs. Actually, more than a few. Closer to forty seven or so."
Max was trying to get me to smile, I knew it. She didn't want me to take this so seriously.
But nobody can punch Max in the face without dealing with me, and definitely not if they had already messed with her so much. Not even if she had already kicked their butt. "Permission to kill?" I asked seriously, looking up at Max.
She paused, looking thoughtful. "Permission denied," Max decided. "We can't get you kicked off the soccer team for fighting, now can we?"
I opened my mouth, ready to tell her off for being a hypocrite, when Ms. Rykitel bustled down the hallway. "Hello, Max, hello Fang," she greeted us cheerfully, apparently not noticing Max's black eye.
"Hi Ms. Rykitel!" Max chirped sweetly. I nodded to the teacher, following her inside as she unlocked the door.
"So I've heard that the Mustangs have a pretty strong defense," Max told me conversationally, skillfully shading her left eye with a thick shield of hair.
I looked at her blankly for a moment. "Mustangs?" I echoed, confused.
Max rolled her eyes. "The team we're playing today? The Daleview Mustangs? Whom we must crush at all costs?" Max reminded me.
"Oh. Right," I remembered. Max facepalmed, wincing as she slapped her bruised eye. I had a good reason for forgetting even this huge event, though. Max's black eye had driven everything else out of my mind. "Are you okay?" I asked, watching as she carefully rearranged the curtain of hair over her left eye. "Other than the fact that you look totally emo now?" I added, eyeing her hairstyle.
Max gave me a pointed look. "Who are you calling emo? When was the last time you wore any color other than black?" she retorted.
"Black is fashionable," I replied airily. Max looked floored by my response, so I flashed her a bright smile.
She shook her head slowly, as if trying to wrap her mind around my words. "I can't believe you just said that," Max mused.
"How are you going to hide that shiner from Anne, anyway?" I asked curiously, gesturing back to her black eye.
Max grimaced. "I have no idea. I would just sweat off concealer or something. What do you think?"
"Well, we can't have you kicked off the team for fighting," I mimicked her. Max scowled, looking like she was about to retort with something, so I continued hurriedly. "Just say you got hit in the face with a locker door, or you ran into a wall," I suggested. "You're uncoordinated enough that Anne would believe it."
Max elbowed me roughly. "Jerk. I am the epitome of coordination, Fangles," she scoffed.
"What about when you tripped over the sock Gazzy left lying on the field?" I challenged.
Max looked annoyed. "That was one time," she argued stubbornly.
I rolled my eyes at her before looking at Ms. Rykitel, who was starting class.
Just one more period, then we would be out on the field.
MPOV
Fang and I had practically sprinted out of art class as soon as the bell rang. Consequentially, once we had dumped stuff from our lockers to our backpacks, we were the first ones in the locker rooms.
I breathed in the now familiarly sweaty-sugar cookie scent of the locker room air, trying to calm my racing heart. I loved games, far more than practice, and I couldn't wait to start playing. Idly, I wondered if the style of soccer played in California would be different from Nevadan soccer.
It took me a little longer than usual to perform the combination to my locker. I slipped off my sneakers first, stuffing them unceremoniously inside. I removed my beautiful new cleats from the top shelf instead, and laid them gently on the bench next to me.
I pulled my new Lynxes uniform out of a pocket of my backpack, and extracted my shinguards from my locker, putting them beside my cleats. Then, I crammed my backpack into the locker and started to change out of my school clothes and into my uniform.
It was a really nice uniform, the jersey fitting silkily around my shoulders and the shorts loose and comfortable. I smiled as I stood up and surveyed myself in the long mirror set along one wall.
Red was a good color for me, I had to say that.
Just as I was pulling my socks up over my shinguards, Sadie and Liz appeared in the doorway, each lugging backpacks. "Hey Max," Liz chirped, obviously pumped out of her normal quietness by her excitement for the first game. Sadie nodded in greeting, and I smiled in return.
"Hi Liz, Sadie," I replied. "Ready to kick some Mustang butt?"
"Heck yeah," Sadie murmured, a huge smile blossoming on her face.
"They won't know what hit them," Liz declared, shaking her jersey in her fist to emphasize her point.
"What's that noise?" Sadie asked suddenly, straightening to listen. I stilled halfway through tying my shoe laces, wondering what Sadie had heard.
"Oh no," I groaned when I recognized the sound. "Prepare yourselves."
Ella, Nudge, Lauri, Juliann, and Rosanna burst into the locker room, yelling at the top of their lungs.
THROUGH THE DISTRICT,
DOWN THE STREET,
WHO'S THE TOUGHEST TEAM TO BEAT?
CROMWELL! LYNXES! YEAH!
"Yay, school spirit," I mumbled, leaning down over my shoelaces once more.
"Come on, Max," Rosanna chirped, plunking down on the bench beside me. "Show a little firepower!"
"FIYAH POWAH!" Juliann screeched from across the room, obviously agreeing with her best friend.
"No thanks," I replied, smiling at Rosanna. "I'll save my firepower for the field."
"Agreed," Sadie mumbled, casting a wary look at Nudge, who seemed on the verge of having a seizure from overexcitement.
Once I was finished dressing, I finger-combed through the largest knots in my hair several times before securing it tightly back in place in a ponytail. Over this I pulled a maroon headband to keep back any stray wisps of hair. I didn't want any hair to get in the way of my playing.
"Hey Max, do you think Anne will- HOLY MOTHER OF TURTLES!" Lauri shrieked. I jumped, startled by her outburst, and whirled to face Lauri, who was gaping at me like I had grown another head. "Maximum I-don't-know-your-middle-name Ride, where did you get that black eye?" Lauri demanded. Her arms were trapped inside her jersey, but her head was poking out of the neck hole quite comically. I found it difficult to take her seriously.
"Turtles?" someone snickered.
"Her middle name is Riesra," Ella informed Lauri, sounding disinterested. "And don't worry, Laurs. Max gets injuries like normal people breathe. She's fine."
"At least you don't play goalie, too," Lauri grumbled, tapping the gloves she was carrying. Lauri turned and went back to her locker, and Ella grinned at me.
I felt a sudden rush of gratitude for my sister. "Thanks, Ells," I whispered to her, smiling.
"You're telling me the whole thing later," Ella whispered back.
I grimaced. "I know. I'm more dreading explaining it to Anne."
Once everyone was dressed, we filed out of the locker room together, heading over to the part of the field where Anne had instructed us to warm up. Some of the guys were already there, stretching out and passing the ball around. One of them ran up to me as I stepped onto the field, and I almost didn't recognize him in his uniform.
"What's up, bestie?" the guy asked teasingly, his dark eyes sparkling with laughter, even though his voice was completely serious.
"Fang!" I choked out after a moment of staring at him. "You aren't wearing black!"
"Well, duh," Fang scoffed, pulling self-consciously at his scarlet jersey.
It hadn't really occurred to me that Fang couldn't wear his usual black attire during the game. It just seemed too strange to comprehend him wearing anything but black, yet here he was. He looked almost… normal, dressed in red and silver like everyone else. Only his cleats, hair, and eyes were still black.
And his boxers, too, a voice snickered in my head. I shoved it aside immediately, almost blushing at the very thought.
"Fang!" Nudge shrieked, popping up beside me. "You look so weird, I mean, like, wearing red instead of black! It's so strange to see you in colors, isn't it Max?" she babbled, her eyes wide as she took in Fang's appearance.
"This is slightly scary," Ella commented as she dribbled a ball over to survey Fang in uniform. "I can't really process that this is actually you, Fang. Are you sure you're not an imposter?"
Fang smiled slightly, and without a word stole the ball resting under her foot, dribbled away, and performed the complicated original move he had named On Wings.
Fang passed the ball back to Ella and smiled again. "Could an imposter do that?" he asked simply.
"Probably not," Ella replied agreeably. "But I just can't believe that you aren't wearing black."
"They wouldn't let me play if I wasn't in uniform," Fang point out logically.
"But still!" Ella insisted. "This is just… just… "
Gazzy popped up behind us, slinging his arms recklessly around Nudge's and my shoulders. "You'll get used to it," he assured us, grinning widely. "The competitive team we play on together wears blue and white uniforms. Seeing Fang in that is a shock to the senses, I'll tell you," Gazzy added mischievously, "and not just 'cause he's an ugly little boy."
I ruffled Gazzy's hair, causing him to unlatch himself from Nudge and I, scowling slightly. "Don't hate on Fang just 'cause you're ugly too, Gasser," I teased. "It's not nice." Before Gazzy could say anything else, I quickly added, "So your knee is all better, I take it?"
Gazzy looked down at his left knee. It was encased in a black cloth brace, but the swelling had gone down, and he was walking normally again. "It's fine," Gazzy informed me. "I told you it wasn't a big deal. But what about your black eye, missy?" he asked shrewdly.
I rolled my eyes at him. "It's not a problem," I assured him. "I can see just fine."
"Let's see what Anne has to say about that," Gazzy replied seriously. He cracked a sudden grin, and winked at me. "Fighting is against the school rules, Maximum!"
"I wasn't fighting," I protested, trying to look shocked by his accusation.
Gazzy held up a hand to stop my protests. "Please. I saw Max II go down like a blue whale in an elevator," he told me, mischief lighting up his eyes. "I can't believe he was my friend before. He's been a jerk ever since you and Ella transferred here," Gazzy mused.
"He's just jealous of us," Ella scoffed, striking a pose. Nudge, Gazzy and I burst out laughing at the ridiculous expression on her face, and Fang just rolled his eyes at my sister.
Suddenly, the now-familiar piercing voice boomed across the field. "Lynxes, over here!" Anne commanded. We whirled around to see her standing by a bench on the sideline, her ever-present clipboard clutched in one hand.
We all congregated around our coach, inspecting each other in our new uniforms and discussing the Mustangs, who had begun to straggle onto their side of the field to warm up.
"This is it," Anne declared, earning instant silence. "First game of the season, and we need to show those Mustangs that Cromwell High is a force to be reckoned with. Let's take it to them!"
"Heck yeah!" Lauri crowed, high-fiving Ford with a loud smack.
"Let's have a nice, brisk warm-up," Anne decided. "Look sharp, and remember that the way you warm up is the way you're going to play."
"Ok, we get it," Devon assured her. "Let's get on with it."
"Patience, Dev," Danny soothed, his voice teasing. "Become one with the field. Breathe in, breathe out."
"Shut up," Devon replied promptly.
"Silence," Anne ordered. "Gazzy, how's your knee?"
"Good as new," Gazzy announced, wiggling his knee at Anne. "And I got a nifty brace for it, too."
"Good," Anne decided. "You can play, then. Rosanna will still be switching with you periodically though."
"I guess Rosie can kick some Mustang butt for me," Gazzy agreed reluctantly. Rosanna nodded cheekily, sticking her tongue out at Gazzy.
We were all turning to go begin warm ups, when Anne stopped us in our tracks. "Max, what happened to your eye?" Anne asked quietly, her tone laced with danger.
I blinked innocently, as if not understanding. "What do you mean, Anne?" I asked sweetly.
Anne looked almost amused for a moment, before her expression became stern once more. "You have a black eye, Ride. Have you been fighting?" she demanded.
I touched my left eye, like I had just remembered it was there. "Oh! This?" I asked, smiling carelessly. "Fang hit me in the eye with his locker door at lunch," I invented swiftly, trying to sound nonchalant. "I wasn't fighting."
Anne looked exasperated now. "Why does this team have a habit of hurting their own players?" she muttered, half to herself. She cast a pointed glance towards Lucas and Gazzy, then at Fang. "Whatever. Tell me if it's bothering you, Max, okay?" Anne told me. I nodded, already knowing I wouldn't say anything.
"Well, it makes you look pretty badass," Juliann offered.
I grinned at her. "Yeah, I guess," I acknowledged. "Those Mustangs will fear the Girl with the Black Eye!"
"Ooh, that reminds me!" Nudge squealed suddenly. "Nicknames! You, Fang, and Gazzy are the Running R's! No, no. The… Knights of the Ri Table! No… I don't like that. Umm, the Rapturously R's! No, no…" Nudge babbled, obviously immune to our looks of horror.
Fang shot me a pointed look, but I ignored him. Gazzy looked pained, and not just because of his knee. "Sorry," I muttered, trying to ignore Nudge's shouts of progressively sillier and sillier nicknames.
"You suck," Gazzy replied conversationally. "I'm going to murder you in your sleep, Max."
"Save it for the Mustangs," I retorted.
We went through our warm-ups quickly and methodically, throwing glances over at the Mustangs every chance we got. They wore yellow jerseys and black shorts and socks, and were laughing and joking. They didn't seem to be worrying about the upcoming game.
"Hey Max, look," Ella murmured, passing the ball off to Danny before falling into line behind me. "There's only four girls on the other team."
I glanced over at the Mustangs again. Ella was right, there were only four girls in the yellow-and-black uniforms. All four were very tall: two blondes, one brunette, and the last with short black hair. The rest of the team were boys, and most of them were shorter than the girls. "That's weird," I said to Ella finally, my eyes still on the taller blonde. "They either have a sexist coach or most of the girls at Daleview don't play soccer."
"Good thing you don't go there," Gazzy snickered, popping into line behind Ella. "You wouldn't survive, Max!"
Danny passed the ball to me, and I was forced to dribble away before I could think of a good reply.
"Captains!" one of the referees bellowed from where he stood at the half line.
"Gazzy, Max, you two are captains!" Anne directed. Gazzy and I grinned at each other, running towards the center of the field.
The Daleview captains were both boys, one short and tanned, the other tall and pale. The short guy had jet black hair, and the taller one was blond, and both positively radiated cockiness. "One of their captains is a girl, and the other is a cripple. Pathetic," the short one whispered loudly to his friend, sneering at me.
I narrowed my eyes at him, and started cracking my knuckles with audible pops. The tall boy looked slightly alarmed, but the short one simply kept sneering.
"Beat them up, Max," Gazzy murmured to me, grinning wickedly. I grunted in response, keeping my eyes on the short boy.
None of the three referees appeared to hear anything we said. Instead, the man who had called us over stepped forward and nodded to us. "Daleview, Cromwell, shake hands," he ordered.
I locked eyes with the short boy as I stepped towards him. I towered about four inches over his head, but he seemed unperturbed by the height difference. Instead, he just smiled mockingly at me, and shook my hand daintily, as if it were made of glass.
I crushed his fingers as hard as I could, staring him down. "I'm Max," I growled, releasing his hand quickly.
The boy smirked. "Jose," he replied, his voice syrupy sweet.
I switched my gaze to the taller boy, who was at my eye level. He held out his hand, and I crushed it in turn, stating coldly at him out of my good eye. "Jake," he offered, trying to smile.
"Max," I repeated shortly.
"I'm Zephyr," Gazzy informed Jose, shaking his hand energetically. Jose looked disgusted, and pulled his hand away quickly. Gazzy didn't appear to notice, as he had already begun pumping Jake's hand wildly up and down. He was acting positively bubbly, smiling brightly at Jose, Jake, and the pretty sideline ref. She giggled in return, batting her eyelashes at him.
I wondered if she realized that Gazzy was only a freshman, however charismatic he was.
"Daleview are visitors, so they will call the coin toss," the head ref announced, producing a large coin from his pocket and showing it to both Daleview captains. "Heads or tails?" The ref flipped the coin into the air, where it spun, flashing, in the sunlight.
"Heads," Jake said, his eyes locked on the coin. It fell back to earth, plopping onto the turf in a flurry of black pellets.
Tails.
"Tails it is," the ref reported, bending down and picking up his coin. He turned to Gazzy and I. "Choose your side of the field to start off on," he told us, pocketing the coin again.
"This one," I replied firmly, pointing towards the half of the field the Lynxes were still warming up on. Gazzy nodded, confirming my decision.
"Okay then. Daleview has first kick off, we start in five ninutes," the ref announced.
Without another word or glance towards the Daleview captains, Gazzy and I set off back towards our team. "Lynxes, in!" Anne called, waving her clipboard around.
We circled up around her, everyone looking expectantly towards Gazzy and I. "We won the coin toss," I explained, "they have kick off and we start on this side."
"Good," Anne replied. Suddenly, a wide smile broke out on her face. "Did you intimidate them with your injuries?" she asked impishly. Gazzy grinned. "Is that what you were going for?" he asked. "If so, it worked. Max scared one of them pretty badly, and I could tell he was psyched out by me, but the other guy was an as- a jerk," Gazzy revised hastily, cleaning up his language in front of Anne.
"Well, it worked partially." Anne shrugged, her eyes sparkling. "Now let's get out there and wipe the field with them! Especially that, ah, jerk," Anne added, winking at Gazzy. "Now, lineup." Anne tapped her clipboard with her pen, her voice low and serious again. "Ford is starting in goal, with Nudge at sweeper, Ella stopper, Matt left defense, and Lucas right." Anne moved her pen to the midfield line, tapping each name in turn as she spoke it. "Danny at left mid, Max and Liz covering the middle, and Juliann at right. Gazzy and Fang up top striking.
"What's that sound I hear?" Anne bellowed suddenly, making us all jump with the volume of her voice.
"LYNXES!" Nudge shouted back, pumping her fist in the air excitedly.
"What's that sound I hear?" Anne yelled again.
"LYNXES!" We shouted back. Our voices echoed down the field.
"Bring it!" Anne ordered. Immediately, everyone who was starting ran onto the field and into position.
I could feel the adrenaline spiking through my veins, and despite the sight of Jose with the ball at the half line, I couldn't help the smile spreading across my face. I was ready to play.
Umm yeah. Sorry. This turned out to be a lot longer than I expected,
so the game is gonna be next chapter. ^-^" Sorry!
I'm starting school again on Wednesday. Goody. So you can all expect
slower updates, too. =(
~TMI~