A Promise Gone Wrong

Prologue

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Senior year couldn't get here fast enough. It's not that my summer break has been a complete bore, but after spending my nineteenth birthday in a hospital I am in desperate need of a distraction.

What better place is there than school to find one?

As I stroll through the halls of Birchwood High in our second week of the new school year, I follow the greasy smell of pizza and tater tots along with a crowd of my closest friends and a few flirtatious girls.

"I think he has a crush on me is all I'm saying," Pat boldly concludes, drawing my attention back to the story he's been sharing about his relationship with our history teacher.

A trio of girls from the drama club start giggling and finding any excuse to place their hands on him.

Suddenly, Jack turns with a scowl causing Pat's prideful stride to halt abruptly when the two collide beside me.

"If someone stands up to you it doesn't mean they have a crush, dumbass," Jack bitterly mutters. "He just doesn't like you."

Dropping his jaw, Pat folds his arms over his chest and turns up his nose while Dylan, Cody and I lean against some nearby lockers.

"You're just jealous," Pat counters with a shrug; his ego formidable, especially in the presence of girls.

Jack stares at him for a moment like he's an idiot before turning to the rest of us for help.

"Oh, you're on your own," I scoff and then smirk when Cody and Dylan laugh.

We manage to avoid getting involved as Jack and Pat argue the rest of our walk to the cafeteria, through the lines, and outside to our table.

"Seriously? I didn't pass you the ball because I saw Cameron first and he was closer to their goal," Pat explains, slamming down his tray of pepperoni pizza, three bags of chips, a banana and tater tots.

"I told you I would be open," Jack persists.

Wait a minute, we haven't even played our first game of the season yet.

"Are you guys talking about the tryouts last week?" I interject, as I take a seat between Dylan and Cody on the opposite side of the table from Pat and Jack in case fists start flying.

"Yes," Pat answers with a roll of his eyes, no longer amused with their banter since it scared off the drama club girls.

"Jack, that was like practice," Dylan chuckles, only to quirk a brow when Jack slams his tray down next.

If he were a cartoon I'm sure there would be steam rising from his skin or shooting out of his ears.

"If he does it wrong at practice then he will do it wrong this weekend!" he fumes, and then shifts his eyes to me. "Let me find out you told him not to give me the ball, Cameron. I know you're hoping to be midfielder this year. Screw me over in the process, and I'll--"

"Cameron!" A shrill voice cuts through the air as the doors to the cafeteria nearly swing off their hinges, revealing a girl with long, curly black hair, almond eyes, olive skin, and rosy cheeks.

"Oh, shit," Cody whispers when she begins stomping her way to our table with some of her robotics club members tagging along.

My friends and I have quite a reputation around here. Our soccer team has been on a winning streak for the past two seasons, we come from wealthy families and we play a game that involves sleeping around and breaking hearts.

It's all earned us a spot at the top of the popularity pyramid not only at school but also in our suburban Colorado Springs town.

Everyone knows us.