☆彡 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗼𝗹𝗳
❛ this isn't just a scarf, alright? y'know, it also doubles up as a super awesome cape. ❜
lois was waiting for superman -
not a teenage beta with a bad
attitude and a habit of wearing
...
The brunette in question crossed her arms, sending the man a nasty look she turned away from the two boys beside her and at him instead, "What?"
"Time to get your butt off my field, or run laps until you die! You hear me, Lane? Death!" Finstock instructed with a pointed finger, attempting to seem intimidating. As usual, he was failing, and she could only stare at him blankly.
She could see him spit as he spoke, even from metres away.
Gross.
"You can't do that, coach." Lois eventually responded. She then gave him a wry shrug, "Y'know, I'm not even on the team."
He frowned. Finding truth in her comment, much to his dismay, he realised that he couldn't tell her to do suicide laps. Lois was, in a very annoying way, completely right. Coach then scrunched his face up, clearly unsettled by whatever form of thought-process was going on in his mind, before switching that expression to one that vaguely resembled curiosity.
"Do you want to be?" He asked, "We know Greenberg sucks."
Said boy glared at their coach, a pout taking place upon his lips as the rest of the players snorted in amusement. Even Lois got a kick out of the comment. Though, it wasn't as if any of the kids could blame Finstock for his harsh words — they were remarkably true, and it wouldn't have been the first time that an insult like that had been fired towards the sweaty boy. It wouldn't be the last one, either. He wasn't exactly popular amongst the team, not by any means. He did suck. Greenberg actually stank, both in body odour and in lacrosse. There was always that kid that never got picked to be on someones team first. Needless to say, that was Greenberg. In fact, no one would pick him for their team last, either.
