Amazing cover (picture at the top ^^) by Snowww37.

***

Unfortunately, my parents had failed to inform me that we were allowed to go home during the weekends.

So I, along with some other less fortunate souls, were stuck in this hellhole.

Even the matron had gone to her humble abode, procuring a lame excuse that she had a doctor's appointment for a migraine she had just recently developed.

Why didn't you tell me we were allowed to go home during the weekends?

I sent a furious message to my dad, adding some angry emojis to emphasize my mood. Sitting cross legged, I stared at the vacant bed in front of me, waiting patiently for his response.

Michie had gone home on Friday night, apologising profusely for not telling me on time. She said I could follow her home but I politely declined, feeling weird at the thought of entering a stranger's resting place.

I had this odd policy of getting to know the parents first before sleeping at a friend's house. From what I could tell, her mum seemed way too strict and we barely spoke about her dad. Actually, we never spoke about her dad.

I've been meaning to bring up the conversation but I didn't know exactly how. How does one ask a person why they don't talk about their father?

My phone vibrated with an incoming notification, I quickly looked down but sighed afterwards to only see another apology message from Michie.

Sorry again for not giving you the heads-up. I must be a very sucky roommate. Hopefully next time your parents can come pick you up and we can go to that party I was talking about. Thankfully they rescheduled it to next week. Again sorry, I'll stop bugging you now.

She apologizes way too much, I thought to myself as I sent a curt reply, probably adding to her already anxious state.

Ok.

Seeing that my dad wasn't going to reply me anytime soon I abandoned my phone and left my dorm room.

The hallway was quieter than usual, chatter was often heard from behind closed doors and classical music often blared from the TV's audio, prior to the matrons request.

But now everywhere was eerily silent, only the quiet blather of junior students could be heard from the common room.

"Ms. Adabel," I cringed at my last name as I turned to the petite woman that called me.

"Please call me Debbie," she was shorter than me with a black cascading wig down her back and dark brown eyes. Her glassy eyes looked shiny and glazed over with bits of yellow peeking out of her sclera. She was either sick or high out of her mind.

"Debbie," she tested the name out slowly before shaking her head in disapproval, "It sounds too informal."

"Fine call me Deborah," I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her formalness. She was the matrons assistant, a bit of warm to compliment the matrons cold attitude.

"Deborah," she smiled slightly, "I see that you and Nicole are the only girls left in your year," she informed me.

"Who is Nicole?"

"That'll be me," someone stated from behind me. I turned around to see the same girl from the restroom, the one who had insinuated Raymond's reason for breaking up with Michie.

She was now leaning against the wall next to the dorm room 12, a banana sign plastered at the front, and from her relaxed maneover I'm guessing she must have been observing us for quite some time.

She wore a plain black short sleeved shirt with a red and black striped skaters skirt. She wrapped her red curls in a messy bun and tied a red bandana around her edges. Leather boots adorned her feet.

Walking towards us she folded her arms defensively as she stared harshly at the matrons assistant.

"Um," the woman cleared her throat uncomfortably as she shifted her attention back to me, "As I was saying if you need anything, my door is always open."

Luckily, the school had provided them with their own private mini apartment situated next to our hostel.

"I do need something," she looked at me expectantly, "I kind of forgot your name." My brain wasn't really good at registering names, but I do quite well in remembering faces, at least I hope I do.

"Evelyn," she chuckled out, before quickly regaining her composure and speaking more strictly, "Ms. Rivers to you," I could still see the small smile she tried to hide by flattening her lips.

After that she left Nicole and I alone in the hallway. I turned to Nicole with a beaming smile, stretching my hand out. "Debbie," I formally introduced myself.

"I know," is all she said, speculating my outstretched hand. Seeing that she wasn't going to shake it, I slowly brought it back to my side.

"And you're Nicole," I stated. Her calculating eyes made me uncomfortable, she didn't seem outgoing and I had no idea how to communicate with her.

"I know." She raised her bushy eyebrow at my statement.

Silence, that's what followed.

She didn't seem mean, just unresponsive, like ghost readers on an online book app.

I walked to the common room and she followed, making me even more agitated.

Trying my best to ignore her, I skimmed the room till something caught my attention on the notice board, something I hadn't seen before.

A poster for soccer tryouts was displayed among other activities, and I went closer to take a better look.

Soccer Tryouts for the IK Soccer Team.
Time: Saturday from 11am to 3pm
Venue: Football field
BOYS ONLY.

Why was a poster for boys hung visibly in the girls hostel?

"You play soccer." I looked up at her excitedly, thinking we finally had something in common.

Nodding, I showed her the poster, "Do you?"

Taking it from me, she scanned the paper before giving me a blunt reply, "No."

Slumping in defeat, I took the paper back from her, "Oh." Usually I'm better at making conversation but the way she always seems to be observing someone made me anxious.

"But I skateboard," she offered. My head rose up at that.

"Really?" I engaged, "That's so freaking cool."

She nodded once more and kept quiet. Seeing that she wasn't going to talk again I offered, "Can I see your skateboard?"

She shrugged, "Sure," then she proceeded to her room, me following behind her. As expected her dorm room door was 12, the one with the banana displayed on the door.

Her room was oddly neat, carefully organized with not a thing out of place. Her maroon sheets were layed with no crinkles in sight and on her desk were all her school books perfectly aligned, with a laptop placed next to them.

The bed opposite hers was empty, her roommate probably taking most of her things home for cleaning. "Neat," is all I commented.

Ignoring me, she tip toed against her wadrobe, her hands feeling the top of it for something. Upon finding it, she retracted her hand, now holding the object.

It was simple, a black board with red bubbles designed on it. "How long have to been skateboarding?"

"Since my dad gave me this board," she said, holding out two fingers to either signify two months or two years. She seemed more engaged now, leaning against the door as she asked me, "How long have you been playing soccer?"

My mind replayed the first time I played soccer. It was Nate who actually forced me to try out for the school team back in elementary, said I was too lazy and needed to do some exercise in order to stay fit. Ever since then the sport has kind of grown on me, enjoying the movements I made with the ball.

"Since elementary," I answered. She nodded, her hands tracing the bubbles on her board.

"You going to try out for the soccer team?" She gazed at me intensely once more, her eyes observing my reaction to her statement.

"Maybe," I shrugged my shoulders. Honestly I wanted to play soccer, but the bold imprints of BOYS ONLY made me hesitate in my decision.

That never stopped you before, I recalled what Nate said. What did he mean by that?

"You should," she spoke, dropping her board back on top of her wadrobe and facing me.

I thought about it once more, there's no harm in trying out, right? What's the worst that could happen?

"What's the time?" I asked her, glancing at the G shock on her wrist. I left my own watch in my room along with my phone.

Checking her watch she responded, "2pm."

Good, I still had time. "I'm going to do it," I announced, prepping myself up for what was to come.

"Good luck," I left her pristine room, but not before noticing the slight smile on her lips.

Smiling at that, I opened my room door and briskly walked to my wardrobe, skimming my clothes for a suitable attire to wear.

Deciding to go all Nike, I wore my black Nike track pants with a matching sports bra. I tied my hair in a messy ponytail and put on a blue Nike headband. Then I wore a pair of my untouched blue Nike soccer boots, the bold tick giving me motivation.

Just do it, I thought. Repeating the Nike mantra in my head as I quickly checked my phone for any incoming messages. My dad still hadn't responded to my message.

Hope you got the poster ;)

I reread the message once more. Of course he put the poster on the notice board. I smiled looking at the name the message had come from. Nate.

***

Yay! Another update!!

Am I the only one that is totally loving Nate?

Totally unrelated question: What's your favorite sport?

Read, comment, vote and enjoy!!!