The Player's Weakness | ongoing

TPW// chapter twelve

SUNDAY. Sunday. Sunday.

You love it because it promises one more day away from school, but hate it because it also signifies that Monday is just around the corner.

I'd been in bed, awake, for about 20 minutes, willing myself to get up and get ready. Not to mention complete that homework currently on my ottoman.

The quicker I start, the quicker I can finish, I attempted to persuade myself. But it didn't help much because I just didn't want to start it at all.

"1, 2, 3," on 3, I pulled myself up into a seated position and tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

At least on Sundays people can't judge you for being overly lazy. So, I went downstairs in my pyjamas with no inclination to dress and go out.

"Morning sleepy head," my mum greeted, holding back a smile at my probably atrocious appearance.

I just gave a 'hmph' in response, really not having the energy to be formal.

The kettle had boiled within a few seconds and the master of tea (aka my mother) placed a piping hot cuppa next to me. It does come in handy having your mum make a nice brew.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"You need to take the dog out. I'm not going to have a chance," my mum informed me, looking smart despite her casual attire.

"But I'm tired," I whined to my uncaring mum who just laughed.

"Quit your whinging and take that dog out," as if on queue, that beast of a dog appeared out of nowhere, ears perked.

"Sod off," I told him as he rubbed his wet nose in my face, but scratched his ears anyway. He looked like he was about to take off with the speed of his tail wagging.

Reluctantly, I pushed myself onto my feet, with great effort, and journeyed back up the stairs to get dressed.

Throwing on some jeans and a top, I made my way back down stairs to the front door with a dog at my heels. Now with my shoes on, I clipped the lead to his collar and threw open the door.

The brisk wind slapped at my face as I stepped outside. No doubt, by the time I got back I'd be as red as a tomato. Yay.

###

The park was barely 5 minutes down the road and the large greenery space was ideal for dogs.

"Go on then," I said as I unhooked the lead, placing it in my coat pocket. I seated myself on a nearby bench, watching as my dopey dog bounded around.

Trees lined the path where I sat, swaying harshly in the building wind. The few leaves still grasping a hold of the branches were being shaken unsympathetically by said wind.

I pulled out a book that I'd put in my pocket on the way out and began to read. Yes, I always keep a book handy.

It was only when I saw a shadow looming over me (meaning I struggled to make out the words because the figure covered my light source) did I look up.

His blonde hair was ruffled from the winds and cheeks were tinged a healthy pink. He wore exercise shorts, despite the weather and a sports hoodie.