Elite Rebels

CLOSER

♛

"Can he just fuck me already?"

"You mean all of us."

"Ugh, if only."

The girls all groaned collectively but then blissfully sighed in unison when Jordan once again, jumped up to catch the airborne frisbee thrown at him.

For this lesson, the coach decided to let all of us try out a new game; ultimate frisbee. After he had divided the class into four teams, he randomly selected two teams to play against each other first while the other two awaited their turn.

Instead of actually watching the game, most of the girls on my team and the other were busy ogling the guys. There were also many comments —which I had tried to ignore— lusting after a certain 'knockout Chandler', their words, not mine.

If someone were to ask me two months ago how attractive I think Jordan was on an average attractiveness scale, it'd certainly be way off the negative end.

That being said, it wasn't as if I was all of a sudden viewing him in a whole new light, but more just I was certainly starting to take notice of the things that made him stand out, things that were in the past overshadowed by his abominable behaviour.

The way his tall and lean frame moved swiftly across the hall, how his leg muscles would appear relatively taut as he lightly jogged; the way he lifted one lithe arm to catch the zooming circular disk, how his biceps would flex slightly as he effortlessly performed a throw.

Before, I found it absurb that girls would find a guy like him to be good looking in any way. Now, I could understand where they were coming from, his physical appeal was indeed hard to ignore.

At the same time, it was much more than the outward appearance that drew people in. He was mysterious in every sense of the word, not saying much and not needing to, his presence alone was an entire enticement on its own, pulling followers in at his feet.

Much like a game of Ouija, there was really no way out after signing away your soul to the devil. Once you start noticing the big puzzle pieces, the smaller ones naturally came next.

Little actions like the way his angular jaw would clench when the opposing team scored a goal, or the way those unfairly thick and dark lashes would clamp down hardly every so often to blink away the sweat.

Then came his most flamboyant action yet; as he strolled to where the rest of the class sat, he lifted up his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, exposing a solid wall of stomach with visibly entrenched muscly lines that looked almost too painful to touch.

Ignorant as usual of the audible gasps emanating from his watchful female audience, he casually went and slumped down on the ground next to a few other guys.

At the coach's second whistle, the next two teams got up and started heading towards the playing zone.

Relunctantly, I joined the others and shook off the image that had my cheeks heating up and eyes widening like saucers.

As a non-athletic individual, my personal strategy when it came to team sports was to remain behind players from the opposing team, using them as a shield such that people from my team would not have a chance to make a pass to me.