Mark My Words

3 | (Non)Existent Lovelife

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At the sound of the bell, Rosalie rolled up her bag and stuffed it into her backpack. She swung it over one shoulder and stepped away from the table with Sami at her side. He offered his elbow.

"Allow me to escort you to your next class," he said, and Rosalie slipped her hand onto his arm with a laugh.

"Don't mind if I do, good sir," she said, and together they departed from the lunch room with the rest of the crowd. They stuck shoulder-to-shoulder in the passing crowd and blended in down the west wing. They walked along the blue strip of tiles on the ground, cautious of where their feet stepped. She jumped to the next tile near Sami's locker.

"You know, now that everyone's back from break, are you thinking about getting the team together?" Sami asked, using his free hand to unlock his locker.

She hummed thoughtfully. Last year she managed to convince Ray to host the welcoming party, but it sort of... turned into a disaster. All bets were on Alyssa for being the one to wrangle the boys team along with, but she never fessed up to it, and didn't participate in the betting, either. The boys team tended to go overboard. Ray still hadn't forgiven them.

"I don't know," she confessed. "Maybe a movie night? Though, no one's gonna want to pay for theatre tickets... Outdoor theatre?"

"Sneak in?"

"I don't know about that," Rosalie confessed with a frown. "I'd feel too guilty."

"Okay. Maybe another time—without the entire team," he said. "If you all do end up partying, I could invite some of the swim team. More the merrier."

The swim team was a bit more tame. Just from experience, their parties tended to be filled with non-alcoholic punch, midnight swims, and bonfire ghost stories. Those were the sorts of parties Rosalie liked. She went to one with Sami over the summer, which... may or may not have been the reason why their betting pool was now at $354.56...

One of the swim team seniors had a lakefront property in Delaware that they all road-tripped to. It was feasible in the summer, but not so much during the school year.

"I'll ask the team about it at practice," she offered, though internally she knew she wouldn't. It was always a risk hosting a party she knew half the team would be drinking at. If they were to ever get caught, their spot on the team would be filled by less-qualified members, and they could kiss potential-regionals goodbye.

"But in other news... this chick, huh?" Sami went on, and Rosalie slumped against a nearby locker and groaned. "You mentioned you knew her before?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to mention it in front of Ray," she confessed. Truth be told, Virgin Lips was a common nickname on the soccer team until Rosalie became captain just the previous year. Ray only dropped it after freshmen year because Rosalie asked. "Seventh grade. Soccer camp."

"Oh. Oh! Oh, shit, Rose," Sami gasped, hand over his mouth. He looked around before leaning in and whisper-shouting, "Joanna's the chick who punched Lennie?!"

"I don't even know if Lennie even knows," she confessed, hand over her face. "I'll have to ask him."

"Please do, and text me the instant you find out. I want to know what his reaction is. I bet it'll be priceless," he said.

Sami shut his locker, and the two of them walked to the second floor and disbanded at their separate halls. Sami dramatically tried to hang onto Rosalie's arm, and reached after her before spinning around the corner, out of view. Rosalie slapped her hand to her face, grinning as she stepped through her sixth hour door.