My Brother's Best Friend

Chap. 9

"I'd say that was a successful workout," Michelle said, as we exited the gym together.

"I'd agree," I said, flicking her with my sweat towel.

"You're disgusting," she said, laughing as she wiped off her arm. "Want to grab some dinner before the game?"

"You know it."

I slid into the passenger seat of Michelle's car, checking my phone as we drove down to Chick-Fil-A.

"Nothing better than fast food after a workout," Michelle sighed, patting her stomach.

I laughed as she ordered for the two of us.

"You know my order to a tee," I said, as we pulled around the building.

"This is true."

We munched on our food on the way to the soccer game, the radio blasting.

The game had already started by the time we got there.

"It's getting colder," I said to Michelle, as I slipped on one of her hoodies that she kept in her backseat.

"The wonders of the weather?" Michelle asked, raising her eyebrows at me. "It's Fall Em, the weather gets colder."

I ignored her, climbing up the bleachers and taking a seat.

Emmett and Parker were both in the striker position, the ball on our side of the field.

Emmett was waiting at the half-line, his hands on his hips. My eyes immediately travelled to his bright yellow Captain band.

Proud sister moment.

Parker was a little bit more onto our side of the field, anxiously awaiting the ball. My eyes were also drawn to his bright yellow Captain band.

It was an eye sore on him.

And then Parker received the ball.

He took his breakaway with Emmett streaking up the opposite side of the field.

I jumped to my feet, cheering for our team. Not for Parker, but for the team.

And then Parker missed the shot.

"Well boo," I muttered, taking my seat again.

"What happened?" Michelle asked, looking up from her phone.

I rolled my eyes, laughing.

"Go team, go!" she cheered, before looking back down at her phone again.

I sat criss-cross as the half wound down, neither team scoring.

"Tell your brother to step on it," Michelle said to me. "We need a goal."

"I'm pretty sure he knows that," I said, gesturing to the sideline where the coach was talking with both Parker and Emmett separate from the team.

She took a sip of her soda from Chick-Fil-A. "Let's talk about Parker Adams's legs though."

"Let's not," I suggested, rolling my eyes.

"Just admit your undying love for him," Michelle said, poking me with her straw.

"Just admit that you're insane."

"Well we already know that."

I rolled my eyes, watching as the clock ticked down the minutes left in halftime.

"Emily Winston?" Leslie Jansen asked, as she ascended the bleachers.

"That's me," I said, giving her a wave.