*currently editing*
Two boys. Two different schools. One game. One goal.
Life was easy when you were considered high school royalty but when you get rivalry on the field, things get a little interesting.
Connor Taylor went to Northshore. Dakota Ande...
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"the place to lose your fears (yeah), reckless behavior, a place that is so pure, so dirty and raw, in the bed all day, fucking and fighting on, it's our paradise and it's our war zone"
pillowtalk · zayn
***
My seven o'clock alarm startled me awake the following Monday morning. I sat up, sheets tangled at the foot of my bed. Summertime heat was already setting in through the window. Rolling out of bed with a low groan, I padded bare foot across my room to shower.
The kitchen was empty and the house quiet when I bounded downstairs twenty minutes later. This wasn't a surprise. Mum's conference meetings ran early at the beginning of each week and Dad was barely home enough to notice his absence. Left in their wake were polished floors and marble countertops like a perfect presentation of aristocracy.
My mother, though she didn't work the long hours her husband did, still managed to compensate for the family time lost to hours of business meetings and work calls. She'd often leave a small breakfast on the counter for me or send a text to say good morning before I got to school. I'd trade it for a heartbeat if it meant she could make it to one of my games but she was trying and I appreciated the effort. She gave more than my dad did.
Our lives weren't always like this. My dad's career was only just getting off the ground when I was born so Mum took a year off to stay home with me. We lived in a house smaller than this in a far less glamorous neighbourhood.
I was four years old when Dad's company hit the big time. Bernhardt soon replaced Ikea, Pollock and Kandinsky began to adorn the walls and we were packing everything up to live in a house bigger than a child's imagination had the right to be.
Mum went back to work when I began school but did her best to be involved with my passions. My father had never particularly been a parental figure, believing that throwing money at my problems was as good as any resolve.
By the time high school rolled around I was used to saying goodbye to him more than hello. He was busy working and my time was spent in class and out on the soccer pitch. It was who we were, and his presence was a cold comfort to me now.
The refrigerator hummed quietly as I peered briefly into the empty kitchen. I sighed and slung my backpack over my shoulder, hunger non-existent this morning. I made my way out to my car and began the short drive to Ridgemount Academy.
Ridgemount was situated on the opposite side of town from Northshore. My days were a lot more tolerable with the knowledge that I wouldn't have to see Connor.
The sexual relationship between us had no influence on our day-to-day affairs. We still avoided each other any time we weren't on the field or in the bedroom. Our town was small so we had inevitable sidewalk encounters now and then but tended to avoid voluntary contact beyond that.
