Royal’s POV
“ALRIGHT RAVENS! We have 10 days until the football first game of the season. With all the luck this school has we’re playing against the Bisons first,” there was a bunch of sighs. We all hated the Bisons. They played dirty and for some unknown reason the referees never caught them. “Yeah, yeah, I know. We do have to be civil, however. We also have to win this game because it will pave the path for the rest of the season. So, we’re going to work our asses off and beat them the right way!” Cue different levels of enthusiastic yeahs, “We are better then them,” again, “and we are just as big as them,” cue everyone looking at me cause no matter how toned you are if you’re short and skinny still it means nothing, “…smart, and fast as them.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you save the speech for game day. I have a major headache and currently contemplating life. Also aren’t we supposed to be practicing to beat those motherfuckers,” so what I didn’t have as much enthusiasm as the rest of the team? I was still a good player.
“Hawkson is right. Everyone to position we are running a scrimmage!”
“Stop fucking screaming,” I didn’t say it loudly so I doubt anyone heard it over the major hooting happening. Why did I play this sport again?
…
Something, something “SET! HUT!”
…
Here’s the thing I was the smallest player on the team, therefore, I was the smallest running back. Which means I was usually ignored, even by my own team, when the game first starts which gives a strategic advantage later on in the game. What does that all mean? IT MEANS I SHOULDN’T BE LAYING ON THE FLOOR CLUTCHING MY RIBCAGE 10 SECONDS INTO A PRACTICE MATCH!
My ears were ringing and vision was blurry making it hard to concentrate, but I knew exactly who hit me down and that people were starting to gather around me from worry of me not standing back up immediately like I normally do. Marcus was like 100 pounds heavier than me so I’m allowed to just be still for a second.
“For fucks sake,” there was an audible sigh when I finally decided to sit up, “is no one going to help me up?”
Tristan just laughed at me putting out his hand, “you ok?”
“It’s a physical sport. If something like that was going to bring me down I would’ve stopped playing a long time ago,” I reassured him, but still pulled off my helmet for better airflow.
“MARCUS! Even if he’s ok that was an illegal play! What if he had gotten badly hurt? He’s one of the best RBs we have.”
“Whatever.”
“We will talk at the house,” turning his attention to me, “you ok?”
“Why is everyone asking that? I’m fine. More worried about whether or not my tattoo will get infected.”
“Another one?” I just shrugged it off. I was covered in tattoos everyone knew it. “Alright then, but you’re sitting the rest of this practice on sidelines with me. We can look over the plays together.”
“Yippee,” my enthusiasm was overwhelming me.
“Everyone else back to practice!”
After practice
“Are you sure that you should be driving?” Tristan and Jasper gave me the gift of telling Ivy about the incident so I’ve been listening to her ask the same questions for the last 15 minutes.
“Even if I wasn’t ok my motorcycle is just as important as my Lexus, but with less protection.”
“Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just so… rich. To the point that you think that a $100,000 vehicle has the same value as a $3,000 dollar one.”
“Hey! You have no idea how much any of my cars cost.”
“Do you know?” She must’ve seen that I was thinking about it, “when you don’t have to worry about looking at the price tag of a LUXURY CAR before purchasing it it means you’re too rich for your own good,” with that she walked away.
“I DON’T KNOW THE PRICE BECAUSE I WASN’T THE ONE TO BUY MY CAR!” She just shook her head like she was done with me and disappeared out of sight.
“Why are you yelling about the price of your car?”
“Because, Tristan, apparently I’m ‘showing off my money’ by saying that my motorcycle is just as important as my car,” he just laughed at me.
“I’m her defense. You are pretty rich.”
“That’s not the point…” I felt my arm get pulled and walked backwards a couple of steps, “what the fuck are you doing.”
“Giving you a ride come one.”
“If I was going to take a ride, Hugh, I would’ve taken one from Ivy.”
“We live right next to each other and I have a truck so I’ll put your motorcycle in the back. Plus my mom would kill me if she knew I let you ride hurt.”
“Your mom hates me.”
“She hated your parents, not you,” he started to lift my motorcycle onto his truck, “quit complaining. You’re hurt I’m giving you a ride accept it,” I didn’t say anything instead continued to watch my motorcycle, now, on the bed of his truck, “Fine, how about this, you’re coming over to my house.”
“What? Why? How would that be better?”
“We’re going to work on our project, Genius.”
“…Fine, whatever?” With that I got into his truck and stopped my ‘complaining’. We did have to work on the project eventually and I could probably bring up the topic of Sasha.
At Cash’s house
“I don’t know if my sister is here or not, but I do know that my brother is, so please, be civil.”
“Whatever. When are your parents getting home?”
“I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“What? No. Why would it fucking matter. Your parents love me and my entire family.”
“I see your sarcasm is as lovely as ever. My parents don’t hate you you’ll be fine. Plus you can leave right after they arrive if you end up being here when they get here.”
“Fine,” with that we got out of the truck with the silent promise of getting my bike later and walked inside.
The Hughs weren’t as naturally rich as my family. In fact they wouldn’t even be considered rich in most ways. The only reason they were our neighbors was because the Hugh parents inherited the house payed off from their parents. Why did I bring this up? Because from the second we walked in the door the MESS we saw was heartbreaking for someone who couldn’t splurge as much money as they want.
“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE!” right into my ear, “SAMUEL RYAN HUGH!”
“Yeah,” I’ve run into Samuel a couple times he was about average size for his age, but he was very, very shy.
“Do you mind explaining,” he wasn’t yelling anymore, still, this was something worse.
“No,” he pointed to me, “what’s he doing here?”
“Yes, school project.”
“You know that we’re not supposed to hang out with them.”
“I don’t care! Now what happened!”
“That’s what we would like to know,” great.
Spinning like he was on fire “Mom! Dad! Umm… what are you doing home so early,” he leaned into my ear and whispered, “I know what time my parents are getting home.”
“No, shit.”
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