Falling ♡ Timothée Chalamet

02 - bomb

Being benched sucks.

I've been captain of the girls varsity soccer team for about three weeks now and already someone has taken my spot. And of course it's non other than my own arch nemesis Halie Miller.

God I hated her. I'm a good sport, I might be competitive but I don't have enemies in soccer, nor do I get into fights with the other girls. I've always kept my chill even when people cheat or cross the line sometimes. But with Halie, she just knows how to piss me off. And I can't help but let her get to me all the time.

She has this annoying voice that makes you want to gouge your eyes out, and don't get me started on her stupid blond pony tail that she always likes to whip in my face when we're playing.

I always imagine myself pulling her pony tail as aggressively as I can until her hair falls off, but sadly that would get me kicked off the team so I've decided not to do that. Instead I just trip her whenever I get the chance or I beat her continuously at soccer. I love seeing her face when her team loses against mine.

It's truly worth it when she loses.

'Hey there Miss Miserable. You look very jolly today.' Timothée's curly hair and wild green eyes bring me out of my trance and I stop staring at Halie and focus my attention on him instead. He's smiling at me so I can't help but take the frown off my face and smile back at him.

'Hey.' I say and I watch as he climbs up the bleachers and takes a seat right beside me. 'Do I really look that miserable?' I ask him whilst letting out a small laugh to lighten the miserable atmosphere.

Timothée chuckles and I notice the small bit of sweat dripping down his forehead. He was just on the field practicing with his teammates before Coach Blue, the boys soccer team coach showed up and he just decided to stop by and speak to me.

Weird.

'No. I'm just messing around with you. You don't look that sad.' He says nudging me slightly with his shoulder. I smile at the gesture. It reminded me of old times when being playful with Timothée was natural. 'I know it probably sucks not to play. I see you out there on the field sometimes. You're really good. I bet you can beat a lot of the boys.'

He's seen me play sometimes? He thinks I'm good? Most of the guys think the girls team is full of amateurs. Timothée's comment makes me wonder if the boys secretly know we're good but are afraid of admitting it.

The only person who will admit to it is my best friend Sam, but sometimes I think he only tells me that to be nice, or to give my ego a huge boost. 'You think I'm good? Like better than you good?' I ask raising my eyebrows, attempting to challenge him.

Timothée shrugs. 'Right now, with your broken leg and all... definitely not. But I'm sure that once you're back to normal we can test that theory.' I grin, like genuinely grin, not just to fake it.

I've been faking smiles a lot recently, and telling lie after lie. But right now as we had a nice conversation about soccer and school I couldn't help but realize just how much I missed him. I wasn't thinking about my dad, my brother or my mom in this moment. Instead I was thinking back to when we were kids and how things were so simple back then.

My mom was alive, my brother wasn't a traitor, I was actually happy. Something I haven't been in a while. And Timothée, well I didn't know him that well. I only knew dumb things about him back then. Like his favorite video game, his favorite ice cream flavor and what he wants to be when he grows up.

He used to say he wanted to be a professional soccer player. But I wonder if his answer has changed at all since then. I wonder if he's still the same innocent little boy who would chase me around in my backyard and who I'd laugh with until my stomach hurt.