Overprotective Times Ten {1}

0.6

I was peacefully sleeping until I hear my idiot "brothers" stomping around in my room.

"Will you dickheads stop?" I fume taking a glance at my alarm clock. It's Saturday. Why the fuck would they be doing this at 6:30 AM. Do they have a death wish?

"It's alive," I hear a male say. Well that narrows it down. Great detective skills Jamie. I mutter incoherent words into my pillow before grabbing it and chucking it somewhere. I meant for it to hit someone, but of coarse I hit a lamp instead. All of them laugh. Yeah, ha ha ha.

"You all can't be in here. The room is too small," I claim trying to get them to leave.

"Bullshit, your room is eight hundred square feet. That's bigger than some apartments," Jim informs. I throw my other pillow and completely miss again. Well most apartments don't have twelve people living in them.

"You can't throw," John laughs.

"Yes, I can. I'll prove it. You on for football," I ask.

"I guess. When," John asks.

"Today, at two," I assert.

"See you then," he responds.

Shit. What did I just do? I can't throw a football. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Well, this is gonna suck. I'll be humiliated. Oh well, fake it till you make it.

.....AT TWO.....

I walk out looking very fashionable. I'm wearing a sweat romper and neon Nike shoes with various accessories. First thing I hear is Jack nagging me. Typical.

"Go change," Jack yells. Nope. I keep walking out and just ignoring him.

"Estás lista para perder?" John says fluently asking if I'm ready to lose.

"Yo no juego para perder," I say back just as fluently telling him I don't play to lose.

Okay, we start by him hiking to me. One. Two. Three. Hike. It hits me square in he face. We do that another eight times with same result, and they just laugh and walk out on me. Okay, I never learned. My real father died when I was five and my stepfather was always too busy. He never got to teach me. I start crying. I throw the ball and of course it goes over the fence. Shit.

" Hey, you might of overthrew?" I hear a male say. What is it with all the males?

"You want someone to throw with?" he asks.

"I did have some, but the dickheads went inside because I suck so bad," I grumble.

"Hey, don't say that. They do so many other things kids couldn't even imagine their parents doing," he yells. I flinch. What was with that?

"So, we gonna throw?" he asks.

"I can't throw," I blurt out the truth.

"That's fine. I can teach you, but can we go to the park or something, so your brothers don't kill me," he asks and I laugh.

"They freak out anytime I mention you," I laugh.

"I don't blame them," he chuckles.

"You seem like a nice kid," I ask.

"I am, but I have a reputation and a past," I responds. What happened?

"Well let me run inside and tell them I'm going to the park," I tell him changing the topic.

"See ya, new girl," he replies.

I run inside and ask and hear murmurs of sure and yes, so I make my way outside. I meet up with him, and we start walking.

When we arrive at the park, he quickly leads us to a small clearing in some trees.

"Okay, so let's start by working on your form," he begins, "you start sideways. Then, your going to bring the ball up to your shoulder and hit it. Your going to swing your arm towards your opposite knee and release when it gets to your chest. Now, you want to do it fast because part of the way the ball moves is your momentum." Man, he's hot. Wait. What? Okay. Okay. Focus Jamie.

"So, I start like this," I ask. He nods. Okay, let's do this. I follow his directions and it goes sideways. He starts laughing.

"Okay, so as you throw you turn your body so it goes forward instead of sideways," he chuckles.

"Thank you for giving me some reasonable advice," I grumble.

"Stop complaining," he whines.

"Hypocrite," I mumble. It begins advancing towards me. What do I do? Ahh. He gets centimeters from my face.

"Care to repeat that princesa," he dares.

"Hipócrita," I say back. He nods and steps back and throws the ball at me. Instinctively, I put my arms out to block it, but instead I catch it. Suck on that John.

"I caught it. Atrapó," I scream in happiness.

"Felicidades," he says mocking my Spanish. What? I speak fluently. Whatever.

After a few more hours, we head back and are knocking on the door. I want to show the boys how much I've improved and who taught me. I may or may not get killed. Oh well.

John opens the door and looks up. He quickly grabs my bicep and drags me inside.

"What the fuck?" he yells gaining the attention of nine other guys.

"He taught me to throw a football because none of you guys were going to teach me to," I mock. Yeah, I probably have a death wish.

"What happened?" Jax asked.

"Oh, I just answered to door to find Jamie with the bloody neighbor standing behind her," he screams. He's originally from Doncaster. My brother met him during an arson case.

"Jamie is that true?" James asks.

"Yes, he noticed my predicament with you all ditching me and offered to teach me how to throw a football," I smirk.

"As much as I want to be angry, it is kinda our fault," Jim reasons.

"Oh, I'm still pissed," Jax yelled, "go to your room; you can come out when your thirty."

"This is so unfair," I scream.

"Lower your voice and go," Jax fumes. I quickly exit the living room and go to my room crying.

.....Jake's POV.....

"Don't you think that was a little harsh," Josh asks.

"Nope," Jax reasons, "why would she specifically disobey me and hang out with him? I'm only doing what's best for her."

"She probably felt bad because he didn't know how to throw a football which is something a father teaches his daughter. She probably thought about dad and how much she misses him and felt alone. The neighbor offered comfort and support, and she wanted to prove to us that she could do it," Jake reasons.

"Fine. I'll go retrieve her, but she is still losing her phone for disobeying me," Jax offers.

"Her laptop," Jim counters.

"Fine," he agrees.

She comes down with tear stains, and we explain what was going on, and she begrudgingly hands over her stuffy.

"You know, he's actually a nice guy," she mutters to us.

"Don't start," Jason warns.

"But," she defends but is quickly cut off.

"Stop," Jim fumes.

Edited.