Mark My Words

2 | Soccer Camp Mishap

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"You flatter me," Rosalie said, but the sarcasm was half-assed as she was too busy trying to decipher the look on this stranger's face.

Despite her A+ RBF, the way her eyes lingered a bit too long registered something familiar in Rosalie. It wasn't until the girl crossed her arms that Rosalie put it together.

"You," she seethed, and the shock on the girl's face was subpar at best.

The girl scoffed, pointed a finger at herself, and said, "Me?" It did wonders to show off the dark tattoo on her forearm, one that probably got quite a mouthful from Principle O'Gallagher.

The fierce, raw anger swelled up inside Rosalie as she stormed across the cursed Stud.Co. office to peg the girl with a sharp jab to the shoulder. "Seventh grade. Soccer camp," she said, voice cutting with all the anger she cultivated that day onwards.

Joanna Spencer. None other than the sole reason Rosalie was destined to be the one girl in Bradshaw who hadn't been kissed. She could have checked that box off on her bucket list back in seventh grade when, over the summer—just like every other summer of her life—she attended a co-ed soccer camp out in the boonies with a bunch of (ridiculously hot at the time) boys from her grade. Joanna looked different back then. Take away the piercings, the tattoo, and the thick-framed black glasses and she might as well have been the same girl from back then.

Lennie Pittmen was there, and would go on to be the single most popular boy in their grade. Captain of the boys soccer team. Junior year prom king (next to Rose Jones, who Rosalie seems to keep catching the thunder of) and boyfriend of the Knights cheerleader Harper Winters. He was two nanoseconds away from stealing Rosalie's Virgin Lips nickname at camp when Joanna Spencer took a left-swing shot at Lennie's perfect jawline. Nearly broke her hand over it, and used her right hand to break Lennie's nose over it, too.

Rosalie could have had the reputation of having her first kiss with thee Lennie Pittmen. She thought about that day too many times after far too many Virgin Lip comments and a knack for never being asked out. Something about her being too "intimidating." She never got it, and Sami never filled her in.

But there she was. Joanna Spencer, staring at Rosalie through those big, black-framed glasses. A smile graced her lips, and sent a glint to the cheekbone piercings on the left side of her face. Principle O'Gallagher likely had a fit over those, too.

"Ah. Explains why the name's so familiar, Rosie," she said, and Rosalie's entire being burned far enough up the back of her neck to show red. "Yeah, I remember camp. Good days, weren't they?"

"No, they certainly weren't," Rosalie seethed, and all but begged were it not for the venom in her voice, "Please tell me you quit soccer."

Joanna grimaced mockingly, smile pulling wider. It was decidedly an unfriendly gesture. "I did. Back when I came to my senses and realized it's for kids. But... I'm guessing you still play. Matches the childish attitude, I do admit."

Rosalie wasn't sure what she would have done had Whitney not grabbed her securely by the arm and gave it a good shake. "You've got twenty minutes. Chop-chop!" she said, and ushered them all out of the office.

Rosalie staggered into the hall beside Kim, and spun back to glare at Joanna. The girl's tie wasn't even tied properly, and her trousers were rolled up at the ankles, showing off the argyle uniform socks. She looked too stiff in the button-up, which explained why it was unbuttoned and the collars lifted.