Loose Possession

by Lily Roberts

  God, I hated him even more for that.

  “Don’t make it weird, Dinesh.” Cooper put one of his giant hands on the linebacker—on Dinesh’s—shoulder, easily dwarfing it by size alone. “And if you’re all done whispering around the cooler, we got a field to get back to.”

  “Don’t we still have five?” The safety asked.

  “Coach says she wants us to meet someone,” Cooper explained. “Something about a project for class. Anyone who helps out gets extra credit, and I don’t have to remind you all what it takes to keep in this little group of ours?”

  A few guys went quiet, Dinesh included. I hadn’t realized how many of them were, probably, dangling by strings when it came to grades. Or maybe they were just paranoid? I’d admit, having a grade buffer in case I bombed a course wasn’t such a bad idea.

  “Is it someone from Photography again?” The wide receiver asked.

  “I’d hire her on the side if it was,” Dinesh smirked, receiving a curt glare from Cooper that wiped the look immediately off his face.

  “It’s a freshman from Journalism,” Cooper explained. “You older folks remember the newspaper project they gotta do first semester? Well, she’s in charge of the sports article, so if I hear that any of you are fucking with her,” the look in his eyes was enough to pull a collective, ‘Yes sir’ from our little cooler group. Yeah; Cooper was a dude I for sure wanted to stay on the good side of.

  Dinesh somehow weaseled his way onto my side as every shuffled passed us. “So, that girl of yours,”

  “Sydney,” I immediately regretted telling him her name, but it was out in the open now. “Her name’s Sydney. And she’s not my girl. She’ll probably knee ya in the balls for saying that.”

  “Sydney, right, right,” Dinesh flashed me an overly innocent grin. “So, if you two are friends, or whatever, think you can introduce me to her?”

  Before I could tell him exactly what I thought we could do, my unobservant ass smacked right into the body of a fellow student. We both staggered back, myself ready to quickly apologize, until I saw who it was.

  “Eleventh time in a row, Squid?” I grinned mischievously. “Really living up to your nickname, I see.”

  Oh, God.

  Oh, God, why?

  I should’ve picked a different header to run. But, no, of course I would insist on taking on the sports section for my Journalism project. I know a lot, I reassured my group. I can talk to jocks and jockettes with ease, I insisted. This’ll be the easiest A I ever received, I thought to myself.

  And then Scott Sawyer smacked head-first into me.

  Literally.

  I was still reeling a bit from our collision, but there was no mistaking it. No trick of the light, no dizzy spell making the guy in front of me just seem like Scott. In hindsight, I was an idiot for not realizing that interviewing the football team meant running into him, but for the briefest of moments, I thought it would just be with the coach.

  Silly, silly me.

  “So this is the famed Sydney we’ve heard so much about?” The curly-haired stranger beside Scott suddenly stepped forward, a dazzling grin spread across his face. “Nice to meet you at last. The name’s Dinesh, and I’ve been dying to meet the girl who smacked Scotty silly.”

  I could feel my face getting hot. “Y-Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly a planned attack. Reflexes and all that.”

  “Then you got some killer reflexes,” Dinesh complimented. “So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, love? Here to watch us get sweaty?”

  Before I could respond, Scott pushed up to the front, giving me a look I’d only seen once before in my life. “You on your way to class, Syds? We wouldn’t wanna make you late if you are.”

  It was so weird to hear Scott…care about something that involved me. And that look…it was the exact same look I’d seen back during junior prom. “No,” I began casually. “I’m actually here because of class.”

  Dinesh slapped his forehead, laughing. “Oh my God, you’re the journalist? This is so epic.”

  I gave Dinesh a funny look. “Yeah, I am.” I wasn’t sure if he was insulting me for my gender or not. The way he’d said it made it seem like the most unbelievable thing to happen in decades. To be fair, though, I guess it looked pretty coincidental that the girl who slapped his teammate was now interviewing them. “I was on my way to the field, actually.”

  “We’ll walk with you!” Dinesh insisted, going to put an arm around my shoulder. I let him get away with it; there was something very…alluring…about a guy who just went for it. No beating around the bush with this one. I could respect that.

  For now.

  “Y-Yeah,” Scott practically glued himself to my other side, expression seemingly stuck in a mixture of joviality and discomfort.

  “Feel free to interview me now to get it out of the way,” Dinesh added. “I’d rather we have time to get to know each other once you’re finish, you know? Maybe I can teach you a thing or two about the game itself?”

  Briefly, I saw a flash of mirth cross Scott’s eyes. He and I both knew I could handle myself just fine on the field, but, who was I to deny Dinesh a moment in the spotlight before I hurled him off-stage? “Oh, gosh, that would be so great! I’d love to toss the ol’ pigskin around for a bit, if we have time.”

  The look on Dinesh’s face was priceless. What a precious specimen of female kind, I was sure he was thinking. He looked positively tickled pink to show off in front of me.

  God, I couldn’t wait to see that expression drop off his face once we got there.

  Watching Sydney blow the guys away was totally worth getting slapped in the face.

  Oh, she was absolutely enjoying the game she was playing. Coming up to the coach all prim and proper like once she introduced her, talking sweet and innocent-like to the guys while she explained the project, fervently denying them a turn on the field until they were practically on their knees; the girl was literally a demon incarnate once she hit the field. I enjoyed watching her use her powers on other people for once.

  It wasn’t like she was a Goddess among us, a pro-football player hidden among the normies. But the rest of the guys were pretty surprised when she took one of them down to the ground with ease, or with how fast she made it across the lanes before getting taken out, and without an indignant squawk or crocodile tear out of her for being, “handled too rough.”

  Nope. This was the Sydney I remembered from our younger years, easily able to dish out whatever she got thrown her way.

  And, of course by the end of it, the guys were swarming her like drones to a Queen Bee. That part I liked significantly less.

  “Damn, girl, you’ve got some serious skill,” The safety guy laughed as we all hung out on the bleachers.

  “Well, I tried to warn you,” Sydney replied with a flutter of her eyelashes.

  “Bullshit. You enjoyed every minute of faking us out,” the wide receiver said with a smile.

  It was obvious she did. “Well, I find getting into the thick of it makes for an honest article,” Sydney began. “And, maybe, shaking off a bit of that good ol’ footballer bravado brings me a bit of joy.”

  All the guys laughed, fully enthralled by her charm. Myself equally so; she was still the fireball I remembered from prom. I was really kicking myself now for kissing her.

  “So, it’s been swell, boys,” Sydney stood from the bleachers with a stretch. “But I got a coach to interview next. Hit me up if you ever wanna tussle again.”

  Everyone’s eyes were on her as she hopped down and started across the field, not hiding at all where a few were specifically looking. Dinesh let out a low whistle, immediately by my side with an arm around my shoulder. “Dude, I can’t believe you pissed off someone like that. How are you not all over her?”

  A few of the guys murmured in agreement; my face felt hotter than the sun. “Because she hates me?” I said, ducking out from underneath his arm.

  “I mean, if that’s the case,” Dinesh cracked his knuckles,
grinning. “I’d happily take her out of your hair. We got that party coming up in a week or so; I’d love to make her my plus one.”

  The way he said that sent a shiver up my spine. “Ah, y-you can’t!” I sputtered out, realizing too late what I’d just said. All the guys shot me a curious look, Dinesh included. Well, I started digging my grave already; might as well commit all the way. “You can’t, because…I already invited her.”

  “Whaat?” Dinesh whined. “I thought you said she couldn’t stand you! What gives?”

  Yeah, you idiot, I thought to myself. What gives? Never took you as a liar. Why the hell would Sydney want to come, let alone with me? “I just…extended the offer, that’s all.”

  “So, she’s still going by herself,” Dinesh asked slyly.

  “No,” I cut him off. “We’re going together, but, not together-together.”

  The whole team was giving me a look like I’d grown a second head.

  “Okay, just, I invited her and am walking her over so she knows where it is.” God, I never felt so sweaty in my life. “Just—don’t worry about it. Taken care of.”

  Dinesh’s brow rose, a weird smile on his face. “Sure, dude. Whatever. Don’t make it sound like you’re keeping her to yourself.”

  God, I couldn’t stand him. But, he was a little bit right, as much as I hated to admit it. Why was I getting so defensive? We weren’t dating, after all; if Sydney wanted to go with any of these meatheads, she could.

  …did I just call all my teammates, “meatheads?”

  “Guys, let’s go!” Cooper called from the field. “Playtime with the freshman’s over; let’s finish up drills!”

  “Wonder where she likes to eat?” Dinesh said to another guy. “Maybe I can surprise her and snag a date?”

  Another shudder ran up my spine. I only wished I could broadcast this guy’s slimy intentions to the rest of the world, or at least to Sydney.

  After my last, early morning run-in with Scott, I figured the easiest fix would be to just wake up even earlier than even he could manage. So there I was, 5am, taking my time around campus in my sweatpants and zip-up jacket. It was the quietest I’d ever heard Uni be, everyone either still asleep or awake and feverishly studying. The autumn air felt great against my sweating skin, my own breath just barely starting to condense as the temperature started dropping more and more each day. Finally, I could just be out of my own mind, exist in this moment and not worry about school, about Scott, about my future that still remained uncertain. For now, it was me just fighting against fatigue, feeling my heart try and find its rhythm as I ran.

  Eventually, I wrapped around to the fields, slowing my pace to start my cooldown. Breathing in through my nose, I started to bend low stretching to stretch out the back of my legs, exhaling loudly through my mouth. God, it felt so good to loosen up.

  “Need a stretching buddy, there, Squid?”

  I bit back a curse, quickly straightening to find myself face-to-face with Scott. Because who else would it be, given my luck? My mind was already whirling with comebacks, but that little voice in my head gave me pause.

  Why give him what he wants? Civility is the best defense for idiots like him.

  Taking another deep breath, I managed to push my voice to be neutral. “No, I’m good. Thanks for the offer, though.”

  That caught Scott by surprise, much to my delight. “O-Oh. Um, okay.” He awkwardly stayed by my side, one-part watching me stretch and one-part starting into his own, cooling-down routine. Based on his pads, I hazard a guess that he was practicing football maneuvers, or something to that effect.

  “Early morning practice?” The question came out faster than I expected. I didn’t care what he was doing, only he was doing it when I was up.

  And he was in my space, again.

  I noted some surprise on his face. “Uh, yeah. Apparently, college football isn’t quite the same as high school. These guys are pretty serious, so I don’t wanna let them or myself down.”

  Probably because half of them are in college because of it. Still, I bit back the retort and offered a small smile. “Well, good for you.”

  “Yeah,” He gave me a sideways glance, barely quiet for two seconds before adding, “Okay, how should I defend myself?”

  I frowned, shooting him a scowl.

  “Don’t gimme that look,” Scott snapped back. “It’s always calm before the storm; I just wanna know which cheek to protect this time.”

  “Why the hell would you think I wanna hit you?” I asked. Even though I kind of did want to smack him.

  Scott’s face deadpanned. “I mean, it’s sort of become your trademark.”

  I could feel my face burning up. Stupid video, stupid pep rally, stupid, stupid Scott.

  “Honestly,” Scott added with a chuckle. “I should be used to you beating the snot out of me, given that’s how our weird relationship began.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

  Scott dropped down onto one of the nearby benches, his chuckling flipping to laughter. “You have to remember summer camp. I refuse to believe the Sydney Burton could ever forget a tie between us.”

  Oh, my God, the memories rushed through like the bursting of a dam. “You’re…are you talking about our kickball tournaments?”

  Scott clapped his hands together, pointing a pair of finger guns my way. “Yeah, I knew you couldn’t forget!”

  “How could I forget you crying your eyes out to your dad during pick-up?” I said teasingly.

  As usual, Scott just laughed off my jabbing remark. “I don’t think anyone could’ve forgotten your epic tantrum, either. If we had phones you would have gone viral for sure.”

  I took the spot beside him on the bench, laughing and giving him a hard shove. “So the one time you concede to me, and it’s for being a brat.”

  Scott winked. “It’s what you’re best at being.” He then made a face, groaning slightly as he ran his hand through sweat-soaked hair. “Oh my God, that hit me like a train.”

  “What did?” I asked, curious.

  “Carol Mendell.” Scott’s face was the absolute epidemy of distress. “Mentioning tantrums brought her illustrious visage back into my mind.”

  “You’re the one who asked her to prom,” I pointed out, giggling. “Whatever hell she gave you was your own fault.” I wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point between conversations, Scott and I had started walking together. And, honestly, I didn’t mind it too much.

  Scott laughed again, though it was a bit more awkward this time around. He rubbed the back of his head, almost purposefully avoiding my eyes. “H-Ha-ha, yeah. I don’t even remember who you ended up asking. Paul-something-or-other?”

  Oh, my God, was he sore about that? The tone of his voice, his body language; I was certain the Scott Sawyer was still upset that he didn’t get to ask me to something as juvenile as a school dance. Every part of me wanted to jump on him for that…but…another part didn’t want to open up old wounds. Which was weird, cause, this was an ideal thing to hold over his head. So, instead, I shrugged nonchalantly. “Yup, you got it. Paul Somethingorother. Got that surname in the first try. Brother of Sam Somethingorother…”

  Scott’s face lit up as he snickered. It was a cute, quick sound, one I almost wished would’ve lasted longer.

  “And I want it on record that he asked me,” I pointed out, only to pause. Why was that important to distinguish?

  “Oh, of course,” Scott bowed jokingly my way. “Can’t expect the Queen herself to grace us lowly males with her intents.”

  “Shut up,” I laughed. “I’m plenty assertive.”

  “Yeah?” Scott asked, brow raising. “Prove it.”

  I glanced around, noticing we’d paced the length of the practice field. Off to the side was a shed full of equipment; I knew they had to have what I was looking for. “Fine. Let’s settle an old score, then. Kickball, you versus me. Winner take all.”

  If it were physically possible,
the smile on Scott’s face would’ve gone right off his face and on for forever. “Oh, you are on, Squid.”

  “You can kick first, Scotty-Dog,” I said with a flutter of my eyelashes. “I would hate for you to sprain something trying to pitch.”

  He shoved lightly against my shoulder, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah, sure. I can’t say there’s exactly what we need, but give me a minute to figure something out.”

  I obliged, strolling towards center field as Scott half-jogged to the shed for supplies. It took mere minutes for him to put something together, likely having familiarized himself with the shed’s interior by now. Finding bases was the easy part, given how we had a baseball team for summertime. There was a lack of those old, rubber balls that just make the best sound when kicked, so we substituted a soccer ball in its place.

  “Figured I’d give you as much of an advantage as you can get,” Scott teased.

  He was gonna regret that choice.

  I strolled up to first base, rolling my ankles until the bones let out a satisfying crack. Scott patiently waited on the pitcher’s mound, testing the weight of the ball with a few faux swings before straightening up. He knew I was ready. “First to three, then? Same rules as back in camp? I asked. “As much as I’d love to drown you in points, I’ve got early morning classes to get to.”

  Scott nodded, completely focused now on pitching. He knew I could blow this ball way out of bounds. I was sure he was getting ready for a sprint; there wouldn’t be any stops at the other bases. It would be a home run every time, so I had to plan this carefully.

  Finally, his arm swung back as the soccer ball came speeding towards me. It was like going through an out-of-body experience; I watched the soccer ball come towards me from a multitude of angles, calculating the best place to punt it to give Scott the hardest time.