chapter 2

Isaac's POV:

I ran to the side, slightly putting my hand up to indicate Tyler to pass the ball to me. It was the middle of soccer practise after school, and we were playing a practise match. The wind blew in my hair as shouts filled my ears, all trying to take control of the ball. Tyler looked up quickly, seeing me, and passing the ball swiftly to me. I received it smoothly, running straight towards the goal.

I was nearly there.

Just one kick and I would score, meaning my team would win. I got my leg ready, preparing to shoot when I was roughly tackled from the side. The ball went flying as I blindly kicked it in any direction I could, falling to the grass.

I felt my leg graze against the muddy grass, my hands reaching out for some kind of surface to sit myself up. Complaints immediately started, everyone trying to talk to the coach, as I sat myself back up to see Zavier smirking at me.

"Oops." Zavier snickered, not making any effort to help me.

"You asshole." I spat at him, as I dusted the grass off of myself and got up, slightly leaning on one leg. Blood was starting to trickle down my knee, but I didn't care about that. Stupid Zavier had just cost me my goal.

"Should've been watching where you were going." He shrugged carelessly, not showing an ounce of regret for what I know he deliberately did.

"Fuck you." I snapped, not the best comeback, but it was bad enough us being joint soccer captains, and now he was tackling me in the field. What would be next?

"Ehh would rather not thank you."

I kept quiet, thinking of ways to get back at him.

Hide his homework?

Too much effort.

Maybe spread a rumour about him?

Wait, that's stupid; everybody loved him too much.

"Your knee's bleeding princess." Zavier interrupted my thoughts with his stupid voice.

"Don't call me that." I immediately snapped back. He had a habit of giving me annoying nicknames, and I absolutely despised them.

Which he knew of course, which was also why he still called me them.

I looked over Zavier's shoulder to see Dillon, Zavier's best friend, staring intently at me. As soon as he saw me staring back, he averted his gaze, looking straight at the ground.

Creepy.

"What should I call you then, is babycakes better?" He grabbed my attention again, taunting me. He really had nothing to do, wow.

"I'd rather you not talk to me at all actually." I ignored Zavier's response, something along the lines of being feisty, and gathered up all my strength to try walk normally towards Coach Jefferson to show that I was fine, but his eyes saw right through my act.

"Reid, take Jones to the nurse." Coach ordered and straight away, my face turned into what I assumed would've been one of horror; why did Zavier have to take me there?

I could walk by myself, it's not like I had broken my leg or something.

Some people gave me pity looks, understanding the 'unexplainable' hatred between Zavier and I, while Dillon looked at me with a strange look on his face, before they all went back to playing the game, forgetting all about me.

Love you guys too, I thought coldly.

"But Coach-" I started, but quickly shut my mouth when I saw the stern look on his face.

For goodness sake, couldn't I catch a break?

Just rhymed there, I chuckled bitterly to myself, forgetting I wasn't alone.

"Did you hit your head too?"

I stopped, giving him a questioning look.

"You laughed, but nobody said anything." He explained.

Oh, way to make myself look even more dumb.

Great.

I just carried on walking...Correction: limping, trying to walk as fast as I could to get out from this awkward silence.

My sock was now stained red; that was not going to wash well.

"This is all your fault."

"I know."

"I know you did this on purpose." I carried on, ignoring his smug smile.

"I know you know."

I thought back to when Dillon was staring at me and couldn't help but ask. "Did you tell Dillon before deliberately shoving me?"

"Dillon? Why would I tell him?" He looked genuinely confused, either he was telling the truth, or he was a great actor. Knowing him, it was most likely the latter.

"Oh... don't worry then." Maybe Dillon was planning something, I'd have to be more cautious around him.

Silence took over, the only sound being our shoes slapping against the ground.

When we finally got to the nurse's office, surprise surprise, there was a sign that read "SORRY FOR ANY TROUBLES CAUSED, BUT I HAVE HAD TO LEAVE EARLY FOR PERSONAL REASONS. IF URGENT, GO TO OFFICE OR CALL 911."

"911", what even?

"Well this is great." Zavier sarcastically spoke and I would've said some smart remark to go with his, but I was starting to get a headache... maybe I had actually hit my head.

Groaning, I put my head back against the wall, sliding down till I was sitting down on the cold floor.

"Fuck." Zavier muttered. I opened my eyes to see him fidgeting with the pocket of his shorts, his tanned skin showing a hint of a blush on his cheeks. "What happened?" I questioned his suspicious stance.

"Uhh n-nothing." He stuttered, keeping his eyes on the ground. "But aren't you gonna get something for your knee?"

Ignoring his weird ass stuttering, I looked to the side to see a first aid kit right beside me and opened it to only find some bandages and dressings and some cleaning shit. The effort was too much, and I hated the condescending look Zavier was giving me.

"You don't know how to wrap a bandage honey?" He snickered, folding his arms.

"Don't call me that, and yes I actually do know how to, but I'm just going to rest for a bit." I closed my eyes again, expecting him to leave, but instead, I heard shuffling come towards me. It went quiet, then I felt a cold wipe hit my knee, followed by a painful sting.

My eyes automatically shot open, my mouth ready to let out a string of curse words at Zavier when I realised he was bandaging my leg for me.

Zavier... helping me?

This had to be a dream.

"No need to look so shocked sweetheart, I'm just a helpful guy." Zavier joked, very badly may I add, as he finished wrapping my knee and stood back up.

"Isaac, Isaac, Isaac." I repeated, getting a strange look from him.

"What?"

"Well you've obviously forgotten my name with the amount of nicknames you give me so I was just kindly reminding you I do have a name." I sarcastically smiled, getting up slowly.

"Very funny." He ruffled my hair, making me scowl.

I hated when Zavier would touch my hair without asking; it was as if he was treating me like a child.

I headed to the changing rooms to get my stuff so I could just go straight home, there was no point of going back to soccer practise if Coach would just keep me on the bench, and anyways, practise was nearly over.

"You not going back to practise princess?"

I simply gave him the middle finger, not looking back to see his face.

Getting to the changing rooms, I packed all my stuff quickly; I would have a shower when I got home, I decided.

All I wanted to do right now was just lay flat on my bed, and that's what I would do as soon as I had my nice, cold shower.

A/N: didn't know how to end this. also cuz im British we say plasters but they're American so I had to kinda research and basically there were no plasters left so he had to just bandage his leg btw. anyways, enjoy reading :)

written: 01/08/20

published 06/08/20

A/N: rereading this and cringing at myself BAHAH