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Chapter 4

It was pitch black out now but the football field lights illuminated the field. Everyone else had left half an hour ago and coach had set up a go pro to make sure we ran. Talk about trust issues. I guess there's a reason his team is the top in the country.

My cleat clad feet crossed the finishing mark and I wasted no time in collapsing on the ground like a starfish. Finn almost tripped over my foot with surprise. I corners of my lips raised but he ignored me, going to the bench for his phone.

"What time is it?" I panted out while tossing my stick a few feet away from me.

"Seven thirty." When I didn't respond he glanced up at me. "You good?" His light brown eyebrow quirked.

"Aside from the fact that I want to throw up? Yeah. Totally good."

He scoffed and tossed his phone into his bag before give me a hand. "Get your fat ass up and stretch with me before we both get in trouble for you puking your guts out on the turf." I reluctantly took his hand large hand as he helped me up. His strong grip let me know that he defiantly wasn't lying about lifting.

Not that I doubted him. His arms made me jealous.

"How kind of you. I'll remember that the next time I think of being an asshole to you." I remarked and walked onto the green plastic grass with Finn. Once again, we both started stripping out of our gear and tossing it too the side.

"Same to you. Narcissistic dick." I did the same, leaving me in spandex and a sports bra. We glared at each other, but none the less decided to stretch.

I started doing Open Gates and Closed Gates while Finn focused on stretching his calves with Elephant Walks. "How was day one of Groton high?" I wasn't sure why Finn was asking me questions. Maybe he just found the tense silence unbearable. I know I did.

"Pretty good. Except for this one asshole at my lunch table. Total son of a bitch. Dirty blonde hair. Green eyes. Cocky as a motherfucker. Maybe you know him. I'm still not that good with names." I said patronizingly.

Finn but his hands on his hips and glared at me before responding. "Don't know him. Maybe you've met this girl that's been driving me mad all day. Five foot nothing, thick, thinks she's the shit even though she's not."

Thick is a compliment to me but the way he said it made me scowl. It was his way of saying he checked me out without admitting it. Finn was basically implying that I'm a slut who uses her assets to get what she wants.

I pulled a bright face and smiled. "Don't know her. Sounds like her and that guy I know would really hit it off. They each sound like the devil." We stretched in silence for a moment before I spoke up again. "Why are you such an asshole?" I muttered loud enough for him to hear me on purpose.

He didn't respond for a second and I opened my mouth to repeat myself when he cut me off. "We are the same person. We both think we're the best. We aren't meant to get along. Besides, I don't need you messing up my team. I am so damn close to winning states four years in a row and I refuse to let you ruin this." He said bitterly but somehow not cruelly. Maybe it was because I sympathized with what he was feeling.

I scoffed and stood up from the turf while brushing the grains of plastic from my legs. I could feel Finn's hooded gaze on me as I stomped off the field and grabbed our sticks and gloves. I spun on my heal and walked back towards him.

He had a confused look on his face as I threw his gloves into his lap and tossed his stick at him. Despite the fact that he was sitting, he caught it in his hand perfectly. I angrily shoved my hands into the confining pads before Finn's huskey voice filled my ears.

"What are you doing, Mason?"

"We are scrimmaging. I missed practice because of you and I refuse to skimp on training. Besides, we're the same person." I mocked him. "We should be open to a little bit of friendly competition."

We both knew he couldn't back down after I made that point. He would look like a pussy. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him roll his eyes but despite that, he stood up and put on his gloves.

I produced a yellow ball from the right side of my spandex and Finn made another face at me. "What are you? A fucking tennis player?"

I ignored him, deciding that if I wanted to practice, I needed to suck it up and deal with his miserable attitude. Our feet moved silently across the spongy field until we reached the center. I crouched down on my right knee and put the ball on the midfield line. Finn did the same infront of me and we lined up our sticks.

"Full field. No body checking with the stick, we don't have pads. Face off on three." He said while we lined ourselves up on the left of our stick heads.

"One..." I started the count and we said two together. When three was uttered we both snapped out stick heads down and butted shoulders.

Finn managed to flick the ball away from me but I was on my feet at the same time as he was. He scooped the ball and cradled it with one hand on his right as he tried to run around me as fast as he could. I pulled my stick back while running slightly in-front of him and tomahawk checked his stick.

The ball didn't waver but I successfully trapped him against the out of bounds line. He tried to juke me, quite expertly; I had to admit, but I slammed my body into his. This time the ball bounced in his stick and I wasted no time checking him.

The heavy yellow rubber sphere rolled onto the ground and I scooped it before passing Finn and running towards the other side of the field. I switched to my left hand, putting the ball on the opposite side as the one Finn was on.

My feet pounded but he managed to cut infront of me and lock shoulders while checking my stick harshly. The ball bounced in my stick but I jerked the stick to the other side of my body while switching hands again.

As we raced down the field, Finn kept his body between me and the goal. I really wish I could hit him right now but we were playing nice because we didn't have gear on. I pushed my aching legs to move slightly faster as I ran past the goal and started to round the crease. Finn was smart and stayed in-front of the goal, expecting me to run around it all the way since I couldn't pass.

I thought about it briefly but I was in just the right spot to head in the opposite direction and wrap a shot around the side of the overturned goal. I ball whooshed into the net and I sent Finn a cocky look.

"What was that about being the better lacrosse player?"


Okay. Maybe Finn was better than I gave him credit for.

Who knows how many hours later and the score was 16-12 Finn. Sucks to be truthful. Finn's smirk made it painfully clear that he and I were thinking the same thing.

The last few rounds had gotten sloppy for both of us and there were defiantly some illegal pushes and checks on both out parts. The last round, we both lost possession twice before I eventually scored. My breath was heaving harder than when I ran that 11k an hour or two ago.

My head throbbed as I desperately tried to keep ahead of Finn as I descended on the goal. This was looking like a fight I was going to loose as his stick came across my view and hit mine, making the metal rattle in my ears as I ran into his body on my left. We both tripped and the ball left my stick as I broke my fall with my forearms.

The metal shaft dug into my arms painfully. I would have a nasty bruise tomorrow. Finn's body thudded against the ground besides me. I let out a huff of breath on impact and I heard a sharp inhale. After a quick moment of silence, Finn asked worriedly.

"Sylvia? You okay?"

I rolled onto my back lazily with a huff of air. "Yeah. Just exhausted. You?"

"Yeah." He muttered before standing up with his stick. Once his eyes scanned over my body to see that I was fine he scooped the ball and I scrambled to get up suddenly. It was too late because a second later, I saw the yellow ball streaking across the black sky. My eyes tracked it as it sailed into the over turned goal, 70 yards away. "I think I won."

I slowly turned my face to meet his and I shut my mouth, my lips forming a tight line instead of an 'O'. "I'm pretty sure that's cheating, Riley."

I crossed my arms and he raised an eyebrow while smiling at my childish hope. "Really? Because we never called time out and I just sent the ball into the goal. Seems like a win to me."

I let out another huff even though I was still struggling to catch my breath. Somehow we both silently agreed to get water and we found ourselves sprawled out and man spreading on the cold metal bench.

"What time is it?" I asked lazily while staring up at the sky. You could hear I-95 in the distance. I had heard enough stories and lived here just long enough to understand that 95 was the bane of every one in the New York/ Connecticut area's existence. LA traffic was nothing compared to this shit hole. I had made a trip to Stamford once on a Monday morning and that was a fucking mistake. Idiot.

"Almost nine. Good thing there's no homework on the first day." He remarked. I heard the click of his phone going to sleep and I closed my eyes. Both of our breathing rates seemed to have returned to normal but I still felt like I had just been hit by a train.

"Amen to that." We sat in silence for a moment before I stood up and threw my bag over my shoulder. "It's late. I'll see you tomorrow, Riley." I said turning back to look at him. "Thanks for practice."

He returned his eyes to my face instead of up at the starts and he smiled slightly. "You're welcome. You're a good player, Mason. Just done mess up my team." His voice was kind yet bitter. It confused me to say the least so I responded the only way I knew how too.

"I don't plan on it."

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