Blacaris

Chapter1

BLAKE’S POV

With sweat dripping down my face and the ball in my possession, I run up the pitch with two defenders hot on my trail.

It’s a Counter attack. I’m one on one with the other school’s goalie. He spreads his arms apart in an attempt to make himself seem bigger while moving closer to me. I smile as I notice that he’s gone off his line.

“Perfect”, I whisper to myself.

Before I could do anything, a defender pulls me by my shoulder aggressively and the goalie’s eyes sparkle with hope as he quickly runs for the ball. This guy really thinks this is over huh?

I chip the ball over his head and into the perfectly abandoned net, sending the whole school into an uproar. I run towards the corner flag with my team mates behind me, screaming and celebrating because I just scored the winning goal. The stadium was so loud that the referee’s whistle was barely loud enough to signal the end of the match.

The match was good, but it wasn’t so special as every match I’ve played has been a great match. I walk over to the bench to get my water bottle and towel because I was parched and drenched. Ironic right?

I was about to reach for my bag when my team mate came over and shoved his phone in my face. I really don’t need that right now and he better have a good reason for that.

“Have you heard what they are saying about you?”, he yelled with a smile on his face that seems to never fade.

“What is it this time?”

“watch”, he said as he forcefully turned my face to watch the post-match highlights of the game today. Why does he always think it’s normal to touch my face?

Commentator 1: “Fourteen goals this season! How do you view this kid?”

Commentator 2: “How else but fantastic. He’s the ultimate ace, a Rising star! He killed it on the pitch not just today, he does this week in and week out.”

Commentator 2: “I can just imagine the huge grins on the scouts’ faces right now. It’s gonna be a blood bath fighting for Blake.”

Commentator 1: “I mean who wouldn’t fight to get Blake? The kid has 14 goals to in the bag this season in the youth league and the closest person to him William, has only 9 goals to his name. This kid is undeniably the best striker in the league at the moment.”

Commentator 2: “I can’t agree with you more, especially when I remember he has given 5 beautiful assists this season too. He really does have the makings of a star. Blacaris has done it again!”

The commentary was good and all but I’m at the point where the continuous praise is just not fulfilling. I don’t know if it’s because I’m now used to it or maybe I feel like it’s being overdone, I just don’t know why.

“Blake excuse me, I’m from the Warsaw Footba…”, a scout says trying to stop me but I shrug him off.

Ever since I turned twelve, I lost interest in a lot of things, be it sports, girls, school, name it. Mom says it’s part of growing up, but I’m just 18. An 18year old that’s not interested in things they are good at is weird. I don’t think it’s just maturity, I feel like something is fundamentally wrong with me.

Walking into the tunnel, I spot my other team mates pouring their energy drinks on each other as their way of celebrating our win. They didn’t bother to include me in their little drink war as they are fully aware of my lack of enthusiasm towards such.

I walk past them and head for the showers which I know those boys will need after that drink fight. I pull off my football jersey and get into the shower stall. These stalls have always been uncomfortable for me as my tall build makes the shower head feel too close for comfort.

As I was about to turn on the shower, I heard some guys talking about the game. I wasn’t interested until I heard my name.

“Bro! That Blake dude was downright crazy on the pitch today. Who would pull off such a risky move in an official match like that? I wish I had bro’s confidence.” I knew it was Torrence who said that. His ever present enthusiasm when talking about anything football was unmistakable. I could literally feel the sparkle in his eyes.

“Nah, that’s just Blake. I envy his talent but not his life. I heard he turned down Jasmine last week for the nth time. It’s either Jasmine is crazy or Blake just doesn’t like good things. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought he was gay mehn.” Brice, I just knew he would bring up Jasmine.

I decided to stop listening and start showering because I really don’t care about their conversation.

As the cold droplets of water hit my skin, I felt an instant relief that I didn’t know I needed. As I showered, my mind went back to what Brice said. Brice is right to not envy my life, not because of Jasmine but because I am in a constant state of confusion. Almost everything about my life has loopholes I don’t understand. I no longer feel anything, it’s like my emotions are on vacation. I can’t remember the last time I felt anger, joy, sadness or even excitement. The doctors insist that I’m completely normal and nothing is wrong with me. How is having no emotions normal?!

I turned off the shower, grabbed my towel and headed to the locker room. I have to get home before 7:00 since I’m basically gonna be home alone for the mean time.

***Next Day******

“Everyone settle down!” our homeroom teacher Mr. Bernard yelled as he walked into our noisy class. Everyone suddenly went mute. It’s honestly surprising that a room full of annoying, hormonal and delusional teenagers would quickly obey a teacher that easily.

“I know you all have been in a very good mood lately, especially the football team, congrats on your win guys.” the teacher says in an attempt to boost our morale. The guys on the school team started making barking noises which never seizes to tick me off, but I knew he was trying to prep us for the bad news.

“As you all know; we are going to be expecting our yearly transfer students which I know all you territorial teens often dread. However, the rules remain the same. I know you guys know it but to fulfill all righteousness, I’ll still tell y’all. The school expects no bullying, bad talk, and no foul language upon their arrival or during their time here. Kapish?!” Mr. Bernard said with a stern but informal tone.

“Kapish.” The class echoed with a lazy tone.

“Oh! Blake please see me in my office after classes.” Mr. Bernard said while walking out of the class.

As soon as the door to the class closed, the students burst out in constant chatter as everyone now had a dominant topic of discussion-The transfer students.

I don’t know why everyone is so pressed about this. I mean, we are not the first set to get transfer students. This yearly occurrence is as old as time. Basically, a group of transfer students are admitted into the school in order to take the final exam which guarantees entrance into the university.

Many say that they are all home schooled kids but I don’t believe that entirely because, these kids come into our school and take over all the top spots. Whether sports, academics or even socially, these kids don’t lack. The former toppers and popular kids basically become their minions. Because of all these, their arrival is nicknamed “THE INVASION” by both the staff and students.

“Do you think they will be like the last set?” Jason, the guy behind me said.

“I hope not, cuz I’m not about to give up my position as the most popular girl in school to some scrawny homeschooled brat!” Jasmine scoffed with a mixed expression of fear and annoyance basically plastered on her face. If she wanted to sound tough, her face completely betrayed her.

“Blake, what about you? Are you worried the transfer students will turn out better than you in football or be more popular than you?” Jason asked

I stood up, took my backpack and made my way to the teacher’s office.

“Why would you ask such. Blake is just too good to be afraid. Didn’t you see what he pulled at our last match?” Torrence answered on my behalf as I closed the class door.

On my way to Mr. Bernard’s office, a girl passed me and I caught a wisp of a strikingly familiar scent. My head whipped back instinctively to figure out who the person was. As I turned around, I was met with a very unique set of eyes.

“Why do I feel like we’ve met before?” she asks with a very inquisitive look on her face.

I try to take a better look at her and I notice she has very distinctive features. Her hair a very bright platinum blond colour, her eyes were almost glass like, she was taller than you average girl. She looked like she shouldn’t be here. She looks almost like me.

We stood there staring at each other before she broke the silence and asked, “What’s your name?” in a rather condescending tone.

I completely ignore her and turn toward the way to the teacher’s office and continue my journey.

“HEY! THE f**k! I’M TALKING TO YOU!” She yells in annoyance.

Aside from her intriguing aura and unique features, I found her utterly uninteresting. I

was still curious as to why she felt familiar.