The Past is Only the Future with the Lights On

---Friday, October 30th; 7:31 p.m.---

Football; a sport created by two gay men who wanted something to do that looked masculine, but in reality was just a way to touch each other's asses.

Straight out of the dictionary, I swear.

Tonight was the rivalry football game between Belleville and Bridgewater, and, rumor was, a fight was going to occur on the field tonight to keep my tradition running (which was mainly the only reason people were going).

When I punched Kendra in the nose, I wasn't trying to start anything; not a tradition or even a larger fight. No, all I was trying to do was get my anger out. And she was the closet thing at the time. I guess you could say I was also trying to make clear the fact that you shouldn't push irritable people during soccer games (even though she had no clue that I was so vulnerable during that game). And now people think it should be a tradition. What a load of crap.

What's even worse was that I promised Frank I'd go tonight. Taylor was dragging him along, so he decided he'd drag me along, too. And I would have put up more of a fight to stay, if 1.) I had an actual reason to stay home with my grandma and 2.) I knew the chances of Brandon and/or Monica being there were higher - they both hated football with a passion.

But Frank just had to remind me that tomorrow was his birthday (which we had made plans to hang out at the Halloween carnival together with Mikey, Dahlia, and some of their older friends - no Taylor or Kendra) and make me feel guilty by not going.

So here I am. It's now 7:34 - scratch that - 7:35 and I'm standing like a loner outside of our school's football field, waiting for my friends who told me they'd be here at 7:30. Stupid motherfu-

"Kelly!" a loud, familiar voice yelled, making my whole body turn in the direction it came from, only to be toppled to the recently cut grass by Mikey's lanky body in a hug.

"Hi!" he yelled once more, even though he was merely inches away from me, propping himself up over my body by his arms as he grinned down at me.

"Get the hell off of me, dipshit!" I smiled helplessly as I punched him in the chest, only resulting in him falling completely down on me and for me to lose my breath.

His whole body was suddenly pulled up and off me, allowing my feet to meet the ground once more as I stood up as well. I looked at Mikey, seeing a tall, long black haired man standing directly behind him, smiling in amusement at him.

"Mikey, I knew it had been a while, but trying to get some in public. . ." the guy said, shuddering and making a disgusted face towards the end.

A laugh escaped my lips at the thought of Mikey "trying to get some" with me, just as another familiar face popped up next to me.

"Hey sweetie," Dahlia smiled, giving me as sideways hug. "Frank'll be here in a sec. He's just getting the oth-"

But she didn't get a chance to finish, for she was cut off by the boy himself.

"Hey, Homeslice," Frank smiled, looking directly at me. My eyes immediately drifted downwards and towards my chest, a smile creeping up on my lips as I admired the tight, turquoise colored shirt I'd chosen to wear tonight, the word 'Homeslice' in yellow, block letters above a slice of bread.

"I thought my nickname was whore," I pondered, recalling how he'd been calling me whore since our "dinner experience" about a month ago. I raised my eyebrows slightly as I looked back up into Frank's hazel eyes (and nearly got lost in them, may I add) and smirked, noticing two familiar and two unfamiliar bodies appearing next to Frank.

"Well, now you've two," he nodded proudly, wrapping his arm around Taylor's waist, only causing my blood to boil as I wished to be in Taylor's place.

Oh no. I've got a case of Dahlia.

Taylor must have noticed my sudden change of attitude because, the next time I looked at her, the conceited smile on her face was directed right to me.

"Right, so who are your friends, Jack?" I attempted to smile while trying to avoid eye contact with Taylor, as I said the character's name on Frank's shirt; Jack Skellington.

Frank breathed out a laugh as he used his free hand to point to a guy with reddish-brown hair that resembled an afro.

"This is Ray, or Toro. Whichever," Frank said, afroman giving a small wave to me as I did the same to him.

"And Bob," he continued, pointing to the other guy, with blonde hair and a lip piercing much like Frank's. He smiled and nodded his head towards me.

"And I'm Gerard," the guy who had pulled Mikey off of me introduced himself, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. "Mikey's big brother."

"I'm Kelly," I smiled. "So. . .how old are you guys?" I asked as we all started walking towards the home side of our football field's bleachers, weaving our way through the many people dressed in their school colors and what not.

"Ray and I are 21, but Bobby is 20," Gerard explained, emerging on my side as he draped his arm casually over my shoulders. "We go to Rutgers."

I nodded, looking away from Gerard's particularly pale face and forwards, only to stop dead in my tracks.

Directly in front of our large group stood two people I hated more than Taylor and Kendra.

They clung to each other like blood thirsty leeches, like if they were to let go the world would stop, still unaware of my presence.

I hadn't even noticed I'd stopped walking to stare at them, busy thinking of things to say to Frankie to explain my sudden disappearance, that was until someone walked into me from behind.

"Watch it, bitch!" Kendra exclaimed, pushing me in my back so I stumbled forwards a few steps and lost Gerard's suddenly comforting arm.

I was now only a couple feet away from them, and Kendra's annoyingly loud voice caused them, along with a few other random students, to pull away and look in my direction.