Infinite Clarity

four

[ four : no coordination, no problem ]

Just because someone may live with you didn’t mean you had to talk to them. And that’s exactly what I was determined to do with Luke. After he embarrassed me on Monday, I had settled on the silent treatment. I hadn’t spoken to him since. 

          To be honest, it wasn’t that hard.

          Well, apart from me having to drive him to and from school every day, him living across the hall from me, his repetitive insults, and him sitting at my lunch table (thanks to Carson), that is.

          It seemed like he was everywhere I looked, just sitting there at every corner. It’s like I couldn’t get away from him and I hated him for it. Along with my new “soon-to-be” stepmom.

          If she hadn’t come into my life, I wouldn’t have to deal with Luke at all. Or the pain of my mother’s death more than I already had to.

          And if having to see Luke more than I already did wasn’t bad enough, he decided to try out for our school’s soccer team, too. And since most of my friends were on either the girl’s or the guy’s team, I had to go and give them “moral support.” Do you see where I’m going with this?

          When soccer season first started, Blaire got me to try out. But apparently, on the day of my tryout, I found out that I had no coordination. At all. So of course, Blaire, being the team captain of the girl’s team, had to unfortunately let me go. On the plus side, though, she’d saved my ass from a hell of a lot more embarrassment than I already had to go through. I cringed, just thinking about how far away the soccer ball made it from the goal at my multiple, unsuccessful attempts, and how many times I tripped over that damned ball during drills. After that day, I decided I didn’t need soccer. No coordination, no problem.

          But today, I was after school and I had been sitting on the top of the bleachers, watching the two practices go down. The girls just began doing drills after their running warm-up, and the guys were still doing their running warm-up because theirs was twice as long.

          Today at lunch, Dylan had convinced Luke to try out for their soccer team, saying that since he was the coach’s son, he’d still be able to, even though the season started a month ago.

          You don’t even want to know how many times I slapped Dylan for that after Luke accepted. I remember the smirk Luke had on his face as he accepted, looking straight into my eyes with his cold, piercing green eyes. I had so badly wanted to punch it off of his face. Then add a few more punches for the heck of it.

          As we walked out of the school building, fifteen minutes earlier, Luke said to me, “So you get to watch me all hot and sweaty during my tryout today. I might even take my shirt off if the sun gets too unbearable. Try not to get all flustered like the other day at lunch.”

          Speechless at his words, I didn’t know what to say, and of course, I just had to blush. And I couldn’t help it. After he laughed at me again for blushing at something he’d said about me, I actually did punch him this time. And I was rewarded when he winced just the tiniest bit, clutching his stomach (which was very hard, might I add). The bad thing about punching him so hard though, was that it hurt my hand. A lot.