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"Ay, fuck off!" Kinsey exclaims while running over to the two teammates entangling in a brawl as the rest of the team huddles around them in a crooked circle formation. Their broad shoulders coupled with the shoulder pads they have on create an impenetrable wall of great mass.
The blonde strategically uses her shoulder pads to elbow her way through the Great Wall of protein-fueled boys. Once making it through to the middle of the circle, Kinsey kneels down to grab the hem of the smaller kid's jersey while he pathetically squirms on the field, ruining his perfectly new jersey. The mouth-piece connected to his helmet dangles out as he breathlessly continues his verbal attack on the target of his wrath.
Kinsey yanks the new kid on the team away from their best corner linebacker, Abraham Mitchels. The dude is built like a literal truck with the size of his lat muscles being enough to even challenge The Rock. With Kinsey's knowledge of Mitchels' ability and obvious size, she intensifies her grip on the arm of the scrawny new-kid. I'm doing you a favor, kid. He resists with each pull away as she continues to drag him like a rag doll away from the monster truck of a boy whose nostrils are visibly flaring with great rage from across the patchy field of grass.
The two boys grunt in their separation. Some other players step in and hold Mitchels back as much as they can to the opposite end of the field, leaving the new-kid to Kinsey.
The teammates berate Mitchels with statements such as "He ain't even worth it bro", "he's a pussy, he has nothing on you", "calm down, dude." Every statement that could possibly stroke a teenage boy's ego is being spewed by multiple teammates.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the field, Kinsey rolls her eyes at the redhead sitting slouched at her feet named, Julian? No, Ricky... or was it Lucas?
Kinsey still can't quite remember his name but all she knows is that he is adding to her already pissed-off mood. They don't pay her enough, or at all for the matter to be looking after these numskulls. Be team captain. It'd be fun, they said.
Once the other players get Mitchels far enough away from Kinsey and the new-kid, the blonde positions herself in front of the curly-haired redhead sitting with his legs spread out on the floor, his face flushed red with sweat beads littering his abnormally large forehead. Damn, he has a big ass forehead, Kinsey takes notes as she observes the boy who had barely reached puberty. The bright neon orange bands in his braces and the small size of his facial features give away his newbie essence and immaturity.
"Do we have a fucking problem?" Kinsey snipes in a low, conniving tone, viewing her reflection in his glossy, dour brown eyes.
"Actually," he starts in a high-pitched tone, catching Kinsey off-guard by how squeaky his voice is. "We do have a problem. Your little friend over there is a prick. He accused me of dying my hair. Like, how dare he say that about the hair I was born with. He's got no right," the new-kid banters as Kinsey loosens her grip on him to intensely roll her eyes and drop her head back. I hate it here! Kinsey screams internally at the moronic reason for the intense argument.
