Brandon

I couldn't ask for a better best friend than Lizzie. She means the world to me, and if anyone were to hurt her, they'd have me to answer to. I feel like a heel asking her to do my assignment, but honestly I hate history so much that it kills me. I'll make it up to my girl for sure. Maybe I'll ask Dad if we can take a trip in his jet for the weekend and head out to somewhere different. I'll have a think about it. Maybe to her favorite place in Oregon to hike the Tamanawas Falls Trail. She loves that, and it's only a quick two and a half hour flight. We could camp out under the stars.

Brimming that I can make it up to Lizzie, I run down the stairs in her house to the front door. "See you later, Brandon." Her mother calls out as she crosses the foyer to enter their kitchen.

"See you soon, Mrs H." I open the door and step outside. It's still warm at five p.m., and practice is going to be another session of working my butt off and sweating like a pig. Still, I love it. I'm passionate about it, and one day I want to be the best. I know my pop would love for me to step into his shoes and take over his role in Lizzie's dad's business one day, but honestly... That isn't for me. I want to play football only, and if that doesn't work out, maybe I can be a coach. Money isn't an issue for me since my dad is a billionaire; however, I want to work and earn my own money.

My phone rings; I reach into my black skinny jeans and retrieve it. "Hey, what's up, man?" Denver is my other best friend. I mean, I get on really well with Tobias, but he is more into his nerdy computer games and science than I ever could be. Man, I like to be outside in the fresh air, surfing, walking, playing around on my skateboard at the park where I can just mingle in with the other kids who don't have a rat's ass clue who the hell I am nor who my father is. I can be just some regular teenager with a skateboard having fun, doing jumps and being a flash sod. Yeah, I am good at it. Lizzie says I'm good at everything.

"Man, where are you? Coach is getting antsy. You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago." His voice is anxious.

"I'm on my way, man. Chill. Tell him I will be ten minutes. Just heading across from Lizzie's to get my pick-up and then I'm over. Besides what's he going to do? Kick his best player off the team? That isn't going to win the tournament this season." I laugh. Yeah, I know, I can be an overconfident prick sometimes.

"Er, I think you mean I'm the best player he's got," Denver replies and laughs.

"Later, man. See you in ten." I hang up and smirk. Denver is pretty good, but he isn't as good as me. Nearly.

Pressing the button on my key fob, I hear the clunk of the open locking mechanism and get into my truck. My mother dashes out of the house, wearing as usual an apron. The woman has been baking again. I'm surprised I am not a total lard ass.

"I made you some cakes for the team." She thrusts a large, square Tupperware container in my hand. "Blueberry and cream muffins. Your favorite." She smiles and leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek. I don't pull away; I love that my mom loves me so much.

"Great, thanks, Mom. The guys are going to love them." I place the container on my passenger seat, hop into the truck, and press the button to lower the window. "I'll be in late, okay. I'm out with Jennie tonight."

"Again, is it serious?" She smiles. Mom's right?!

"Nah, we're just hanging, Ma."

"Okay sweetheart, only I thought you'd be with Lizzie tonight. Such a lovely girl." Yes, my mom has always expected and wanted Lizzie and me to become an item, get engaged, get married, and give her plenty of grandchildren.

"You know we're just best friends, Mom. See you later, I gotta go, coach is in one."

"See you this evening, sweetheart." She blows me a kiss, wipes her hands on her apron, then heads back inside the house to no doubt prep dinner. My father will be in around seven, and they like to eat together. Mom will always wait for him.

As I roll the car off the wide drive, I think about Lizzie. I think about her going to some get-together later and speaking with Dexter about prom. Don't ask me why, but it's niggling the hell out of me. Why is it niggling me? Dexter is a nice guy; he's smart and funny; he's definitely a great soccer player, and he's overall decent. He isn't a smart mouth like me; he doesn't serial-date like me, but nonetheless, it's getting to me.

Lizzie's my best friend; surely I feel this way only because I want to protect her, and then what if Dexter already has someone lined up? What will Lizzie do for the Prom? All these questions are running wild through my head, along with guilt for leaving Lizzie alone in her cozy bedroom to do my assignment. I grip the steering wheel because, as much as a bad boy I can be, it's pretty shitty leaving her alone whilst I go out with Jennie after practice. Just to get laid.

I arrive at the stadium and coach is pacing. He paces a lot. "Hey TJ." I shout out.

"It's coach T.J. to you, Brandon. Don't forget it. Where the hell have you been? We've been waiting. Get down on the ground and give me one-hundred press-ups."

Is he shitting me? I do as I'm told, only I know I'm his best player, but it isn't unheard of the best player being put on the bench for a misdemeanor. But you know, hanging with Lizzie those extra minutes was worth the hundred killer press-ups I have to do. The guys are laughing at me. I want to shoot them the finger, only I'd rather get these goddamn press-ups out the way first.