7. Seth

"Wish me luck, alright?" I whisper to Poppy and kiss her cheek.

"Luck!" She gives me a toothy grin and throws her chubby arms around my neck, clinging to me. "You're the very bestest brother in the whole world, Seff."

"The best, huh?" I raise an eyebrow and she nods her head vigorously which makes my heart swell a little. "Well, my most beautiful little sister... I really have to go now. Knock on wood for me and give mommy and daddy a hug from me when... if they get home, ok?"

"Ok," she chirps and hugs herself to me one last time before I exit the house. I stop for a second, knowing what's coming.

"SEFF!" Poppy calls and pulls open the heavy front door. "Don't forget the pop-corn, please!"

Outside Brice and Cole are waiting for me, already in their uniforms. Brice hollers and honks the horn of his truck as I jog towards them. As soon as I'm in the car, he turns up the radio and starts the engine. My heart beats fast with excitement and anxiety. This should just be a friendly game but there is so much more at stake.

My pride.

"Dude, what the fuck?! Why aren't you dressed yet?" Cole calls over the loud music that is blaring through the car.

"Forgot my uniform in my locker."

"Sure. Forgot," put his fingers up to mime quotation marks and I just roll my eyes. "Or maybe you want to listen in on the losing strategy?"

That is exactly what I am planning on doing. The locker that conveniently contains my soccer uniform is sitiated right next to the guest's changing rooms. As a team captain I have to insure that we are thoroughly prepared for the games so I'm planning on fetching my uniform from said locker and maybe listen to the rivals game plan.

"Don't get caught," Brice warns as he pulls into the school's parking lot.

"I never do."

As soon as Brice cuts the engine, I jump out of the car, twisting my head from side to side to look around. I recognize some of my team mate's cars but really am only looking for one. My eyes fall upon the rather dull, worn-down car that I've been looking for.

Arya is currently being pulled away by some girls while Miller and his friends are watching from a distance.

"What fags," Cole comments, appearing beside me with a smug look on his face.

"Especially that emo dude," Brice adds, pointing at one of them. "Heard that the only reason he doesn't talk is that he swallowed too much-"

"Damn Brice, that's disgusting!" I interject loudly before he manages to finish his sentence.

"He never speaks, though! It's weird. You know, I saw a documentary about serial killers on television and he fits the description. It's always the quiet types." He laughs but no matter how outrageous the speculations, I can't seem to find any interest in Miller's friends. The only thing I care about is beating his ass in the game. 

We'll see who'll be the last one standing.

"Guys, I'm gonna go get my stuff. Tell coach I'll be right with you. Don't wait up!"

They holler after me but I ignore them and jog towards my destination. The field is still empty and merely a hand full of people (mostly friends and family of players) are on the bleachers. Perfect. Nobody will see me. Nobody will catch me.

I've been doing this for as long as I can remember. Even as a little kid, I used to hang back and spy on the other team to figure out what they'd pull on us during the game. 

Until now that strategy as proven extremely beneficial. For our team that is.

My hand wraps around the metal door knob and I pull open the door in front of me, slipping into the chilled hallway. A row of lockers spreads out in front of me and I rush over to mine without hesitation. When the locker opens I can already here talking so I grab my uniform and bunch it up in my hands.

I shut my locker quietly, making sure to stay as silent as humanly possible. If I got caught... that would mean expulsion from any kind of extra-curricular activities... including soccer. 

Worth the risk, I'd say.

As I get closer to the locker rooms, I hold my breath to listen to the hushed voices from behind the door. 

"That's a bad idea and you know it," a voice says matter-of-factly. "We can't play that. We'll embarrass ourselves in front of our whole school... And their school as well. Come on, coach."

Others join in on the conversation and you can definitely hear the coach above them all. His voice is loud and booming above all others. When I make sense of what I'm hearing, I almost can't believe his words. He is trying to get them to play fouls on us and make it seem like we're the ones causing them.

Bastards.

I was expecting them to play hard but unfair? No. After all, soccer season hasn't even started yet and this is supposed to be a friendly game between two schools.

"I'm not saying it again. I make the rules." The coaches orders loud and clear.

Before I can express my hatred for these idiots, pain ignites in my head as the concrete door flies open. It slams full force into my forehead, both blinding me and sending me flying backwards. I try to scramble to my feet but have lost orientation.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!" An angry voice growls from above me.

Miller, of course.

I'm too confused to move so I just blink my eyes and gently move my head from side to side. It is throbbing painfully and I feel like I'm about to pass out from the pain. Sam doesn't seem to realize what he's actually done and just stands there, watching. Blood trickles into my mouth and my stomach churns with disgust. I roll onto my side and support my body with my palms flat on the ground as I upchuck.

"That's for spying on my team-mates, asshole!" Sam spits on the ground next to me as I wipe my mouth with the back of my sleeve. A bloody red mark now decorates my sleeve.

His fingers wrap around my collar and he pulls me up, propping me up against the wall. "And this is for being a prick!" I see his fist coming towards my face but never feel the pain.

"SAMUEL MILLER! CUT IT OUT RIGHT NOW!" A deep voice, packed with authority demands, quickly grabbing the attention of everyone in sight. A grateful sigh slips from my mouth and my knees buckle.

Sam lets go of me and I topple forward, hitting the ground once more. At the same time a high pitched screech invades my head and I grunt in agony.

"How could you be so stupid, Samuel?" His coach hisses as I grab onto my head. "You could be expelled for this! And even worse, you are on probation! You can not afford this... You, girl, come over here!"

"Arya," Sam calls like a child that has been caught doing something naughty.

I can't look up to see what's going on but feel the coach picking me up by the shoulders and leaning me on someone for support. I instinctively wrap my arms around the person, desperate to keep myself from falling forward again.

"You go take him to the nurse and make sure that nobody finds out about this." The coach says almost threateningly. "If anyone finds out about this, your cousins entire career will be ruined. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"No." She snaps in unexpected anger.

"We'll talk about this later." Sam hisses to her under his breath before disappearing after his coach.

Arya's breath goes erratic and I feel her struggling under my weight as she tries to maneuver us to the volunteer paramedics who help out at the soccer games. As soon as we escape the hallway and enter the soccer field, we're surrounded by noisy chatter. 

I feel myself being pulled away from Arya. I try to protest as I'm being hauled into someone else's shoulder but by now my eyes are rolling back into my head and I can feel blood, dribbling off my chin. The matter of where it's coming from doesn't matter much. A severely more pressing matter though, would be my impending collapse if I don't get to lie down soon.

"He needs a doctor," Arya speaks up. "He fell face front into a concrete door. I'm guessing it's a concussion."

"And how would you know that?" Brice barks angrily. I now realize that his shoulder is the one I'm currently leaning on.

"I saw it." I don't know if I'm imagining this but she definitely sounds more confident than usual. "He was... getting his uniform when he somehow stumbled and fell face first into the concrete door! So maybe you should shut up and get him to a doctor!"

Nothing more is said after that and all I can comprehend is being carried away by team mates, lots of curses and then worried voices, asking if I am alright.

"Is there any way for us to contact his parents? I know it's complicated but they should at least know that their son got hurt." A muffled voice speaks softly but no ones answers them. "Not even a business number? Nothing? No... the home number won't do. We need to let the parents know... not the maid... Fine... I guess so. Thank you, sir... Goodbye."

I open my eyes to see a middle aged woman putting her phone down. Was she talking about my parents? How nice of her to acknowledge the fact that my parents are 'complicated'.

My head doesn't hurt quite as badly anymore but I still feel like I've just been run over by a truck.

"SHIT!" I call out, making the woman cry out in surprise. "The game! I need to play!"

I try to sit up but the woman rushes to my side, pushing me back down as gently as she manages.

"Calm down, son!" She says quickly. When she speaks, I recognize her as the school's nurse. Someone must have left me in her office.

"You need to stop moving around so much! I just stitched you up."

Immediately my hand flies up to my left eyebrow, feeling a couple stitches, stretched across my forehead. I groan in defeat and lay back down on the hard stretcher.

"I can't hold you here against your will but the game is over and I want you to get back home safely, alright? Some of your friends are waiting outside. You should let them give you a ride and then just rest the remaining day. Don't come into school tomorrow if you're still feeling sick either!" She explains professionally but the more she talks, the worse I feel.

"Come back in a week to have your stitches taken out. We couldn't contact your family, otherwise I would have—"

"That's fine," I snap, sounding a bit more defensive than I had intended to.

Before she can say anything else, I slide of the stretcher as carefully as possible and leave the nurse's office.

Instead of finding my friends on the other side of the door, I find Arya. She has her back to me and her arms wrapped around her body. Hoping that she doesn't notice me, I turn and walk into the opposite direction. Of course I realize that I'm currently running scaree from this girl but I'm just not up for this confrontation right now.

Just when I'm about to turn a corner into safety...

"HEY!"

She catches up with me, trying to calm her breathing. "Don't run away from me," she gasps through ragged breathing.

"What do you want?!" I demand without turning to look at her.

When she doesn't keep up with me and stops walking instead, I turn around to glare at her. I don't know why I don't just keep walking and leave her behind but when I look at her now, with her hands propped up on her hips and a clenched jaw, it reminds me of Poppy so much that I have to suppress a smile. 

"What do I want? I want to apologize," sarcasm laces her voice. "I'm so sorry for taking care of you when nobody else did. I'm sorry for lying for you so you don't get expelled."

She shakes her head at me and scoffs. Am I being told off by this girl?

"You know what? I don't even know why I came here. I'm not saying that what Sam did is right but you sure deserved it."

I stare at her, stunned. Subconsciously, I step forward and she stares up at me with her dark eyes, eyeing my every move. All my frustration seems to bubble up and my mouth starts moving before I can stop it.

"You're such a fucking hypocrite." I say with a dry laugh. "You tell me to stay away and now you're the one following me! You may think you know me but you're wrong. You don't fucking know me. So stay the hell away or I will make your life hell. I'm not some bad boy you can fix. I'm not some project. This isn't a mask or act. This is me so learn to deal with it!"

"Fine," she calls after me as I stalk off with quick steps.

"Fine." I mutter and leave the school building...