Burnouts

The Worst Has Yet to Come

Scene 1: Addington High (Lacrosse Field)

Jace Kendal

Ten seconds left in the game and James Novak is the goalie. He's the best we have, but my best is better. With the ball in my net, I ran through the other players, most of them falling on the way to catch me. How sad. When I'm close enough, I shoot the ball into the goal. James tries, of course, and he comes close. Unfortunately for him, I score.

My team cheers and parades around me. It was a friendly scrimmage, but I'm even better when there's real competition.

Tony runs over to give me a high five.
"Nice one, Jace. Those Brownstone kids don't stand a chance against us, man."

"And they never will," I smirk.

"Looks like you've got some fans over there, huh?" He says slyly and points over to the girls giggling and smiling at us on the bleachers.

"They're here for all of us, I'm sure." I try to sound modest, though I can tell their eyes are on me. "I'm going to go say 'hi,' but I'll see you in the locker room, yeah?" I start walking over to the girls before Tony could respond.

I'm scoring on the field consistently, but Heather won't even throw me a bone.

The worst of it is when we're making out, and it feels like we're getting somewhere, the clothes start slipping off...and then she stops us. At the start of our relationship, her libido had no trouble keeping up with mine. I can't pinpoint the moment where it stopped.

Yet, she blames me? "You kill the romance when you try to be romantic just for sex." News flash, Heather, the honeymoon stage is over. Sitting around doing nothing together is romantic when we've been dating for two years. Why should I have to leave a rose by your door every day so that you feel wanted?

But, that's fine...I don't care if I'm no longer a "turn on" to you, because it seems as though not everyone shares your opinion.

"Ladies," I smile and nod in greeting. "Did you enjoy the game?"

They smile at each other as though they're sending messages telepathically before one of them decides to speak.

"I'm guessing you're the star player," a girl with long, black hair eyes me.

I chuckled arrogantly, "what gave it away?"

"You took control." She smirked, "you do that often?"

I raised my eyebrows at how bold she was. I haven't seen any of them around, but they give off an underclassmen impression. What is it about girls that draw them to what's not good for them?

I open my mouth to respond but am stopped when Trevor jumps onto the lowest bleacher to grab our attention.

"What are you doing with all of these not-Heathers? Aren't you the one always yelling at me for throwing pretty women at you?"

I sigh, "I'm not doing anything wrong. We're just chatting."

"Sure, you are." Trevor shakes his head in amusement. "Well, I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I have some information you should be let in on." He puts his hand on my back and leads me away from the field and everybody on it.