𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓+𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐒 ✭ 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍

₮ω✺

"1, 2, 3! Hut hut hike!"

Sweat from the practice field could be smelt from more than ten miles away but the stench wasn't what mattered—winning is what each player wanted. Their thirst to win was like ice cold water in an excruciatingly hot, dry desert.

The handcrafted oval-shaped football went soaring through the air in perfect spirals towards another player. Instinctively, it landed in dirt crusted hands and then was swiftly hurled across the field as linebackers came tackling players of the opposing team. They wore bright yellow nets over their heads to segregate each side; the color able to rival the beating down sun.

Fwweett!

Suddenly an ear-piercingly loud whistle shot each and every player off guard.

"Hit the showers!" The couch screamed, almost matching his pitch with the inhumane whistle.

Rydell Secondary School of Education or RHS for short were very serious about their football team. Winning the sport's trophies were life and death to them during the year. Only the skilled of the skilled made it on their team—even though it was still high school football.

The smell of the gym's locker room was worse than the practice field—and that's saying something.

All eleven players squeezed themselves into the showers washing off the horrid smell of sweat.

"Oui!! Philip, you ready to beat Clearwater to a pulp tonight!?" Joe Sugg, one of the eleven football players for Rydell yelled over the splashing of the high powered showers.

Phil chuckled flipping his midnight hair back into the warm water raking his fingers through it. "You know it!" He replied a confidant smirk displayed on his face.

"Hey, Phil." Felix, another player, piped up removing his focus from his hair over to his best buddy.

Phil turned around as a response to Felix's holler.

Letting the shower water bounce off his skin and back onto the floor, Felix tipped his head back into the shower. "How about another bet for tonight?"

The quarterback chuckled loudly. "Bet?" Phil inquired with an eyebrow raise. "Again? We've already scoped out most of Bayside High's cheer squad."

Felix twisted the shower nob off wrapping his towel around his middle. "You're just scared I'm gonna win it? Aren't you, Phil?"

Phil shook his head puffing out his shoulders; following Felix's actions drying off. "What's your bet, bub."

"Ya' know the small boy with brown curly hair that constantly wears skirts?"

Philip thought for a moment pulling on his pants ignoring everyone around him. He nodded his head and a smirk yanked up his lips. His bleu irises filling with lust. "You mean Dan Howell?"

Felix laughed tugging his bright red shirt back over his head. "Yeah. He's a beaut, but he's quite—quite feisty."

"Huh.. alright."

Felix placed his hand on his waist jutting out his hip. "£100 you can't get him in the next ten games and drop him."

Phil stepped closer towering over Felix with a greedy grin. "Bet I could get him in seven."

Felix laughed stepping out of the locker rooms. "You've got until playoffs," He muttered. "See ya tonight lover boy."

Phil rolled his eyes. "The curly brunette who wears pleated skirts?" He laughed to himself picking up his backpack. "This is going to be like taking candy from a baby."

a.n - Or is it? ;)