[22]

25.6K 693 476
                                    

I'm nervous, although I'm not sure why. My leg is bouncing and my fingers won't stop fiddling with anything they can find. The end of my shirt, my hands, the wires on my headphones. I'm filled with so much nervous energy that I'm afraid I'll explode. I turn my attention to making sure I'm fully ready to head out onto the pitch, from making sure my hair is completely secure to double checking that my cleats are tied.

I feel a presence sit beside me on the bench as I finish lacing up my cleats. I know who it is due to the intoxicating scent that follows her everywhere, one that is quickly becoming my favourite smell in the whole world. I glance to my right and see her grey eyes boring into my own, a smirk pulling at those kissable, bee stung lips of hers that I can't seem to get enough of.

We're sat in the changing rooms at our school ten minutes before we're due out on the field, the room bustling with apprehensive energy that's being transferred into movement. People are bouncing on their toes, stretching their arms, anything that means they don't keep still.

This is our first home game of the season and I'm feeling the pressure to win. Whilst it's not all on my shoulders, being captain comes with certain expectations and one of them is to carry the team to a win, especially in front of the home fans. All of our friends and family, probably not my parents, are going to be watching as our fixture is taking the place of Friday night football because Clay's team has a bye week.

It's a big crowd, and because our team has been so successful over recent years in comparison to the boy's soccer team we do pull in pretty big crowds to games, especially when any of the boys teams aren't playing because we pull their crowd in too.

I'm in 'my zone', or at least I'm trying to get there, as all the girls on the team have started to call it. Nobody bothers trying to talk to me, knowing that I like to listen to music and do my own thing in a build up to going and playing soccer. Mackenzie is the only person who has come within ten feet of me since we stopped getting changed and started waiting for coach, the rest of the team opting to standing at the opposite end of the changing rooms and talking quietly amongst one another.

I let my eyes wander over her appearance. Her white blonde hair is up in a tight knot, secured by grips and hairspray that I can smell slightly; her baby hairs scraped away only enhancing the sculpture and strength of the bones in her face, which makes her strikingly beautiful in my eyes and no doubt beautiful in many others. Her soccer shirt is tight over her skin, her shorts ridden up to reveal the strong muscles in her thighs contract as she bounces her feet against the tiles of the changing room floor.

But she interrupted my attempts to get into my zone and I can't see past that whilst the fog in my concentration starts to clear.

I tear my gaze away and look back down at my own boots. "Don't forget to take your nose ring out." I say pointedly once I've finished knotting my laces, my right hand slipping my headphones from my ears. I don't even let her get a word out before I point at the helix piercing I haven't ever noticed before that under other circumstances would make her even hotter than before. "That too. The referee will book you if you don't and I don't want to go into the game instantly disadvantaged."

I'm also capable of being a massive bitch if I'm broken away from my zone before I'm fully ready. Unfortunately for Mackenzie, she's put herself in the line of fire. April did it last year and I nearly chewed her ear off, and she's my best friend. It's the only time I'll ever be nasty to a teammate when I'm in my soccer uniform. Luckily, she barely looks phased, she simply removes her jewellery and holds it in the palm of her hand, her eyebrows raised and the teasing look still on her face. "Better?"

I stare at her and try to remain stoic, but with her constantly moving her eyebrows and the smirk on her face becoming a grin, I can feel myself quickly slipping into a happier mood. Her chin is resting in her hand, her eyes searching my face for something, and I'm not quite sure why it's making my skin feel hot. I replace my stony mask when I realise where we are, and who's watching. "Stop looking at me like that."

Better Than Milkshakes, Better Than Boys (girlxgirl)Место, где живут истории. Откройте их для себя