Love And Games (Editing)

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

My alarm rang out in the small room and I quickly grabbed my phone to turned it off. It was 6:00 am. The time I usually woke up every morning. My first class started at 8:00, which gave me just enough time for a little walk. Blythe was sleeping on the bed next to mine so I had to move around quietly.

I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth before going back to the room and grabbing my phone. I guess I could go out dressed like that. I was wearing a black tank top with black cotton shorts and my flip flops. I quickly went downstairs and outside. I didn't realize where I was going until I found myself standing in front if the soccer field. My footsteps made my presence known to someone that was laying on the grass.  They whipped their head my way and that's when I realized it was Dylan.

"Hey," he says getting up. He had a soccer ball between his feet. "You're up early."

"So are you." I laugh. The wind was playing with my hair sending it across my face. I raked my hand through them pulling them back from my face.

Dylan was looking at me intensely. He cleared his throat.

"You're still good at the game?" He asks me playfully shooting me the ball with his foot.

"I'm here, aren't I? "I  say catching it immediately with mine.

"You are," He says softly, almost like a whisper, his face morphing into a more serious expression.

I smile at him. "I am."

"Ok then. Let's play," he says with a huge grin. "For old times sake. One on one."

"Oh, You're so on." I say quickly pulling my hair into a messy bun. I run back. "This is where you score," I say pointing to the goal behind me. "And this is mine,"  I say pointing the one behind him.

"Let's go."

We spend the next hour playing in the field just the two of us. I was a sweaty mess and my shirt was sticking to my skin. We were 10-9 for now. I know that's a lot of scores for a soccer game but that tends to happen when you're just playing one on one. At some point he just fell on top of me.

"Ahhh oh my God. You're so heavy. Get off," I say trying to push him off.

"Hey, I'm not that bad." He pouted getting off me.

"Right," I say. "How are your parents by the way? Never heard from them."

He visibly stiffened. Maybe I shouldn't have asked.

"They're...ok," he says forcefully. "Um, we should probably head back."

"Yeah, ok," I respond hurt that he didn't want to tell me whatever was going on. We used to tell each other everything.

"Hey, I'm fine. Don't worry about me." He says seeming to sense my expression.

 I was still worried. Dylan's dad used to get really drunk after he lost his job. He then started physically abusing his wife, until he actually got a new job in Boston. Dylan told me that his dad stopped the beatings before his  whole family moved up there, and that's the last I ever heard of this.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

He took my hand and placed it on his heart. "I'm sure," He said with a sad smile. "It's actually cute that you get so worried."

"Shut up." I said taking my hand away and turning to leave. I'm pretty sure I was blushing. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Can I join?" He yells behind me. I don't reply and keep walking causing him to laugh.