chapter 2

                                    

                                          
Isaac's POV:
                          
I ran to the side, slightly putting my hand up to indicate Tyler to pass the ball to me. It was the middle of soccer practise after school, and we were playing a practise match. The wind blew in my hair as shouts filled my ears, all trying to take control of the ball. Tyler looked up quickly, seeing me, and passing the ball swiftly to me. I received it smoothly, running straight towards the goal.
                          
I was nearly there. 
                          
Just one kick and I would score, meaning my team would win. I got my leg ready, preparing to shoot when I was roughly tackled from the side. The ball went flying as I blindly kicked it in any direction I could, falling to the grass. 
                          
I felt my leg graze against the muddy grass, my hands reaching out for some kind of surface to sit myself up. Complaints immediately started, everyone trying to talk to the coach, as I sat myself back up to see Zavier smirking at me. 
                          
"Oops." Zavier snickered, not making any effort to help me.
                          
"You asshole." I spat at him, as I dusted the grass off of myself and got up, slightly leaning on one leg. Blood was starting to trickle down my knee, but I didn't care about that. Stupid Zavier had just cost me my goal.
                          
"Should've been watching where you were going." He shrugged carelessly, not showing an ounce of regret for what I know he deliberately did.
                          
"Fuck you." I snapped, not the best comeback, but it was bad enough us being joint soccer captains, and now he was tackling me in the field. What would be next?
                          
"Ehh would rather not thank you." 
                          
I kept quiet, thinking of ways to get back at him. 
                          
Hide his homework?
                          
Too much effort.
                          
Maybe spread a rumour about him?
                          
Wait, that's stupid; everybody loved him too much.
                          
"Your knee's bleeding princess." Zavier interrupted my thoughts with his stupid voice.
                          
"Don't call me that." I immediately snapped back. He had a habit of giving me annoying nicknames, and I absolutely despised them.
                          
Which he knew of course, which was also why he still called me them.
                          
I looked over Zavier's shoulder to see Dillon, Zavier's best friend, staring intently at me. As soon as he saw me staring back, he averted his gaze, looking straight at the ground.
                          
Creepy.
                          
"What should I call you then, is babycakes better?" He grabbed my attention again, taunting me. He really had nothing to do, wow. 
                          
"I'd rather you not talk to me at all actually." I ignored Zavier's response, something along the lines of being feisty, and gathered up all my strength to try walk normally towards Coach Jefferson to show that I was fine, but his eyes saw right through my act.
                          
"Reid, take Jones to the nurse." Coach ordered and straight away, my face turned into what I assumed would've been one of horror; why did Zavier have to take me there? 
                          
I could walk by myself, it's not like I had broken my leg or something. 
                          
Some people gave me pity looks, understanding the 'unexplainable' hatred between Zavier and I, while Dillon looked at me with a strange look on his face, before they all went back to playing the game, forgetting all about me.
                          
Love you guys too, I thought coldly.
                          
"But Coach-" I started, but quickly shut my mouth when I saw the stern look on his face.