The Summer of Serendipity

Chapter 7

Maliah's Perspective

The next morning I wake up bright and early at 6:00 to go train at a nearby park. When my life is feeling overwhelming or complicated, spending a good hour or two at the park playing soccer always helps me forget everything.

    I throw on one of my jerseys, a Barcelona one, and a pair of shorts, pack a water and snack, then grab my cleats before heading out the door. The early morning fog still covers the sky, sending a small shiver down my spine as I quickly get into my car.

    The park is a mere five-minute drive, but I decide to run there instead, figuring it would be a good workout. It only takes me 10 minutes to get there, and when I do, I find that it is completely empty. The training at a field when it's just you is probably one of the best feelings in the world.

    I immediately start warming up, running a few laps around the park before juggling the ball for a bit. Luck must be on my side today because someone forgot to lock up the goals, allowing me to pull one out and shoot on it for a bit.

    An hour quickly goes by and a few more people arrive at the park to get their morning walks in. Luckily none of the people who are there use the grass, so it's all mine. Although it's already around 7:30, the sun is still nowhere to be seen, the air still crisp and chilly, making me regret not bringing a jacket. You would think that it would be warm in the middle of the summer, yet San Diego weather always finds a way to be different.

    I decide to take a quick break, taking a seat on the ground as I munch on my protein bar and try to keep myself from shivering.

"That Barcelona jersey not keeping you too warm?" I hear an obnoxious voice comment behind me. I turn around and find Jackson standing there, a soccer ball in one hand and his cleats in the other. What is he doing here?

"Why are you here?" I groan, falling onto my back and closing my eyes, hoping that it will make him disappear.

"This is the closet park and I need somewhere to just kick the ball around. No need to be so rude," he scoffs, glaring down at me.

"Stalker," I mumble under my breath.

"I was going to offer you my jacket since it looks like you're about to freeze but now..."

"No! I'm sorry," I exclaim, quickly sitting up. Just the word jacket causes my body to warm up a bit.

"I don't know if you really deserve it," he says, tapping his finger on his chin as he pretends to think about it.

"Jackson, please. This stupid San Diego weather has me freezing. I'll do anything," I whine.

"Anything?"

"Yes, anything. Just let me have the jacket."

"Fine, you can have it. But you have to let me practice with you," he says as he takes his jacket off. When pulls it off his body, it lifts his shirt, revealing his annoyingly perfect six-pack. God damn is this man ripped.

"Fine, whatever," I agree, quickly pulling the jacket onto my body as I try to erase all thoughts of Jackson Cruz's body from my head. That's the last thing that I want to be thinking about.

"So, what have you done so far?" he asks, examining the cones I have set out as he tries to figure out what I was doing.

"Just some dribbling and shooting."

"So what are we doing next?"

"You're serious? You really want to train with me?" I groan. I was hoping he was just joking around when he said that.

"Yes I'm serious. How about some 1v1s?" he smiles, curious about how I'll react. If I'm being honest, 1v1s are the last thing I would choose. Jackson is tall and strong, practically a wall if I were to try and get around him.

"1v1s are lame. Can't we do something else?"

"What, are you scared?" he suggests, daring me to argue otherwise. Me being me, I fall for his stupid trap.

"Fine. 1v1s it is," I declare, grabbing some cones to set up the boundaries and two small little goals.

"The first one to five wins. I get to start with the ball since you got to pick the small," I smile smugly, pulling the ball into my feet as I try to figure out what to do.

"Fine with me."

I start to dribble at him slowly, closing the space between us. Right before I get to him, I speed up, and do a quick body faint to the left before taking off to the right. To my luck, it works and I am able to get around him and dribble through the goal.

"Let's go! One point for me," I exclaim as he retrieves the ball.

"You got lucky," he argues. I can see that he's already getting frustrated by this silly competition.

Without any warning, he dribbles at me at full speed. I get into a defensive stance and try to slow him down, but he's just too big and too fast. He blows by me and scores, leaving me standing there in utter shock. This is so unfair.

"Not so talkative now are we," he laughs, assumed by my now growing annoyance. Forgot this being stupid, I need to win.

I get the ball and in a burst of speed begin to dribble forward. I'm about to make a quick move when suddenly my foot gets caught on a chunk of grass, causing me to lose my balance and begin to fall forward. I think I'm about to fall on my wrist and injure even when suddenly Jackson grabs me by the wrist, stopping me just a foot away from the ground.

He quickly lets go of me the second I'm back on my feet, stable and not falling.

"Did you ever stop for a moment and think about how playing soccer just two days after you sprained your wrist might not be a good idea?" he points out, lecturing me as if he's my parent.

"Oh shut up," I mumble, annoyed by how high and mighty he thinks he is. I grab my cones and start to pack up, realizing how utterly stupid this is.

"Where are you going Maliah?" he asks in frustration as I storm off.

"Anywhere but here with you."

I reach the parking lot and realize how I got here. I ran here. I freaking ran here. I stand there in shock as I try to encourage myself to work up some kind of energy for the run home, which is practically all uphill.

"Where is your car?" Jackson asks as he scans the near-empty parking lot, looking for my beat-up truck.

"Not here," I mumble under my breath.

"Any why is that?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because it isn't."

"Maliah if you need a ride home just tell me," he scoffs as he heads over to his car. As much as I really really really don't want to get in the car, especially since he's been a total dick, I have no desire to run home.

I let out a loud groan before obliging and getting into his car. I try my best to ignore the stupid smirk sitting on his stupid face.

"I guess I-"

"Just don't. Don't say anything," I interrupt him before he can say much more. His bothersome remarks are the last thing I want to hear right now.

It's then I realize that this is my second time being in Jackson's car in the last 24 hours. In fact, I am spending way too much time with him. I need to stay focused on my plan of fucking up his life just like he did mine last summer. Right now, revenge is my number one priority.

How do you guys think that Maliah is going to get her revenge? I hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter. Sorry if it seemed a little rush but I have so much homework, so it's been hard finding time to write😭