Chapter 28: Adam's Mistake

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Adam's POV



I didn't know what came over me.

What I know was that, when Allison told me she can't have dinner with me because she was doing something important with Mische, I felt rejected. And nobody goddamn rejected me in my whole life. I remembered asking her for lunch but he told me the same thing. It was like she was making Mischa as an excuse not to be with me.

And I did a very stupid thing. I hooked up with the nearest female I could find. Not Carly, although her name starts with letter C. Cara, I guess or Carla. I don't know. I don't care.

To say that I wasn't in the mood for sex is both an understatement and a lie. The girl wasn't Allison, given that she was brunette. She wasn't amazing and I don't know why I did even bother going to her place. I could have stayed home and lie down instead, because tomorrow will be the National League and I should be in condition, not rolling my butt in bed.

Allison called before seven. I wasn't expecting her to since she claimed that she would be doing something important with Mische. The adrenaline in me surged up as I tiptoed out of the girl-I-just-fuck's bedroom.

"Ally?" I asked.

"Yeah." she breathed from the other line as my pulse races. Thump, thump, thump... There my heart goes, faster than a jaguar running after its prey. Please don't let the girl wake up. Please don't wake up, I pleaded, closing my eyes tightly. "Um, I was just wondering if your offer for dinner still-"

"Adam, baby come back to bed." the female whore cooed.

"Maybe now's not a good time." she said casually and it gave me the urge to punch something very hard. "I'll call you some time." she added.

"Alli-" I said, trying to explain although I don't know how I can make this situation right. I knew Allison seems to be the kind of girl who doesn't need an explanation once the hard proof had been laid and the voice was already a giveaway.

"Its fine." I fisted my hair and yanked it painfully. "I just really need to go, I'm just really hungry."

Without further ado, she hangs up. And I was left glaring at my phone, wanting to storm inside the room and strangle the woman to death. Why did I even do this? Now, I've ruin everything.

I saw Cara (let's assume her name was Cara) lying in her stomach, watching me with her owl-like eyes as I grabbed my clothes scattered on the floor. I was searching for my shoes when she spoke.

"You know she would never forgive an asshole like you."

And her hoarse voice carried me as I made my way downstairs to the parking lot.

She wasn't there. Allison might have figured out that I was going to rush at Queensland. She wasn't a dumbo after all. I went up in her front door and rang the doorbell but nobody was answering. I press and ear to the door. No sound. Nothing. I called her cell. It was ringing but she wasn't picking up. I slammed my head at the door. I was an idiot. Where the hell would I find her?

I dialed Mische's number but she told me she dropped her home earlier. She might have gone to grab something or eat dinner, she said. When I asked her whether she has any idea where Allison was, she told me she might be in the bookstore or in a thrift shop or in McDonalds. I mumbled my thanks and rushed down the lobby to my car to find her. Not that she needs something but I have to at least explain myself.

I'm sorry. I thought you were making excuses about going with Mische just to not be with me. And I thought of sticking my dick into somebody else's vagina while you do your thing. Is that what you're going to say? Huh? Very idiotic for an asshole.

I scanned the bookstores, going through rows of books but she wasn't there. She wasn't in thrift shops or McDonalds either. I raked my hair with my barehand. Why do I always have to screw things up?

I got back to my car and went around the town for a couple of hours before I decided to go back to her place to check her out but still, she wasn't there. The girl in the lobby as well as the guard said she hasn't come back since she left. I tried calling Mische again but she wasn't picking up the phone. There's no way she could be hiding Allison from me, I told myself.

At two in the morning, I decided to go home. Figured out that I need to rest for the National League at ten in the morning.

"You know she would never forgive an asshole like you."

"You know she would never forgive an asshole like you."

"You know she would never forgive an asshole like you."

Cara's voice lingered in my head the next morning as I downed some painkillers to at least numb my sore muscles. My phone was full of messages, missed calls and emails. None of them were from Allison though and I can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. The messages and missed calls were from Zeke, some of my teammates and Coach Spencers telling me to grab something to eat and report in full condition at nine thirty.

I want to find Allison first but the school was already crowded with students and students from other schools coming to watch the game. I get through the hallways but I forgot that classes were suspended for all the students to watch and support the school. Allison could choose either to attend or not. I tried to look for Mische, kept calling her cell and her house but everything went to voicemail. I could have checked Allison in there but I was already running late for the league.

I tried to find Margaux as well but all I can find were people who wish me luck, told me to win the team and gave me a hard tap on the shoulders or on my back. It began to annoy me but I need to find her Allison amidst the noisy crowd. I passed by a group of girls wearing midriff-baring sleeveless and skirts with pompoms in their hands. They waved at me and blow me kisses. I tried to smile at them, just to be polite. I don't know how that came up.

This is hopeless. You won't find her in the middle of this wild crowd. I thought, shaking my head. Maybe I'll find her later after the game. I'll explain myself. She can punish me and everything will be alright.

Just as I was walking back to the field, my phone began vibrating. It was Zeke.

"Man!" he breathed. "Where the hell are you?! Spencers is going ballistic!"

"I'm coming right over." I said, hanging up the phone.

Back when I was a kid, I really have no thing for soccer. I played baseball and basketball but never soccer. I started playing when I was in high school. My father, being wealthy and powerful paid for the best and expensive trainings our sky-is-the-limit money could afford. When he has time, he takes me to FIFA World Cup to watch. He supports Brazil and I was just sitting on the stands watching the players kick the ball, scoring goals or anything. I don't see the fun in kicking balls, not literally though. But when I was looking for a good college to apply, I saw these players inside NSU. They were wearing dirty knee-high socks and equally dirty uniforms. I never saw soccer as a really sexy thing because I'm not a girl but it was, I mean, is. It is even sexier than basketball or baseball.

In this team, I am a goal keeper. Me and Zeke. In college, school and youth play, a number of substitutions are allowed but in the international competition, only two substitutions are allowed. I would be playing on the first half, Zeke on the second.

Do I need to discuss how soccer works? I bet you had watched the FIFA World Cup for at least once in your life.

Okay, the basis of a well-played soccer is control of the ball. Because there is nothing you can control aside from the ball. I, along with my other team mates will have to bring it under control using different parts of our body - a foot, a leg, the upper part or even the head which was Zeke's expertise. (when he's not playing as a goal keeper, which happens when he's fooling around with the team.) The defensive players, however will try to tackle the man with the ball to intercept. Actually, being a goal keeper is the easiest and hardest thing in soccer. Easiest because you have to stay outside the goal area and you know, wait for the ball to come to you. You can pick your nose, bite your nails, scan the crowd or anything. Hardest because the game score actually depends on you, so you need to have quick reflexes for it.

The sound of a whistle brought me back to my senses.

"Out of play." the referee mouthed and I focused on scanning the crowd again.

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