Monster: A Werewolf Romance

39. OH, RUN

Kyle and I stood facing each other, my attention on the ball, his attention on me. Then I remembered something from five years ago, something my father had said.

"Don't focus on your opponents' hands. Focus on their faces."

I looked up. His eyes burned into mine. I immediately wanted to look down because I couldn't handle that intensity, but somehow I held my own.

Someone whistled. He smirked and we both lunged.

He got the ball first.

I cursed, and then ran after him, as if playing 'Follow the Leader'. He passed the ball to a kid who looked like miniature Obama, and I noticed Miley tagging him.

Obama-kid was running fast, but to my utter surprise, Miley was a windstorm. She was two feet away from the guy, and then slid in front of him, kicking the ball. Kyle ran, fast, and so did I.

He would have reached the ball before me, and I waved to Martha. She ran, and caught the ball. I had stopped six feet right to Kyle, and she kicked the ball to me.

I ran as fast as I could, the ball slipping between my feet. Maintaining balance was relatively easy for me, the hard part was dodging these sons of Satan. One came right beside me, and I looked around, and no one was around me. At least no one to take the ball.

I kicked it, dead right in the center, too late to correct my mistake. The goalie had to shift just a bit, and he deflected my goal.

"Poor Kaea." Someone whispered in my ears, and I started, only to realize it was Kyle. I stuck out my tongue at him.

A real ballsy move.

I couldn't let the guy win.

Huffing, I came back, and the game continued.

About twenty minutes later, Kyle whirled towards our goal with an ease that I had never seen before. I was red, and sweaty and this guy looked like a fucking god.

Which pissed me more than anything else. I ran ahead hoping to tackle him , or at least send the ball away from him, but as soon as I came behind me, I tripped. A hand caught me at my waist, and another at my forearm, staring into the darkest, most beautiful eyes I have ever known. Kyle bent a little down, staring at my lips, and my I could feel the butterflies in my stomach.

And by pure instinct that had nothing to do with me, I bent forward, and someone screamed. We both looked up to see someone named Sam from the boys' team had put in a goal.

"Kaea!" Someone yelled, and that finally snapped me out. What was I doing, kissing the enemy?

I stood up, slowly, still too close to him. Too close to want to go away, but I made my legs do what my brain wanted, not what my heart did.

By the time was halftime arrived, Kyle had kicked one more goal and Martha had kicked one from out side.

2-1.

I sat down, opening a bottle of water, catching my breath. I had worn flexible leggings this morning, and I thanked my stars for that. I would have stumbled and fallen at least twenty times if I had worn jeans.

Rebecca came too, trying to catch our breath, grumbling about 'the stonehead'.

"'Sup?" I asked her.

She turned to me, and looked away. "We will win?"

I didn't know what to say, so I asked another question. "Did that guy, Jackson, say anything?"

She shook her head. I shifted, moving closer to her. "You know? If someone bullies you, it's because they feel insecure about themselves."

"Bullies?"