Love Bites

I fell back onto my bed, groaning from the after-lunch rush. I had almost, almost, called in to tell Zach I wouldn't be there, but I knew he wouldn't be too happy. I wasn't going to let a bunch of thirteen year olds run my life for me. With a snort, I pulled the pillow over my face. This was ridiculous. I glanced at the clock, reading 4PM and decided to plug my dead phone in to charge. I only had about an hour before I had to meet a few of the girls down at the field for practice.

Sundays weren't mandatory. In fact, only six of us practiced on Sunday. Sometimes a couple of the second string girls would come out but it was mostly first string. That's why we were in those positions though. Sure, we all had skill but we all worked our asses off to perfect it and this last game had proved how hard we were working to be a team. Hannah had passed the ball to Ghea, who was aware of what I wanted to do from the second we stepped on the field.

The score was 1-1 and we had to have one more point to take home the win. I was tired of tying up the game with the teams we were better than. We always let the game get into our heads and destroy us that way rather than the other team actually being better than us. Ghea gave the ball some air towards me and then BAM! Right past the opposing goalie's hands. Of course, the fall hurt because I didn't catch myself right, but at least we had won the game.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my guitar clearly. "I can help you Greer. Just say the word and I will get your talent out there." I sighed and rolled to my side, staring right at the instrument. Calum had said that the other night and I wasn't sure as to why I remembered it now, but I did. I was itching to pick it up, to play and sing at least for a few minutes, but I couldn't. If I did that, I'd want it too much and not be on my game for practice tonight.

But God did I want it.

I could practically hear my dad chastise me about wanting to play music. Mom had put me through church choir when I was younger and I soon picked up the guitar after our fourth move when I was in sixth grade. That was when Dad got orders of permanency in Corpus Christi, Texas. I'd often come home from soccer practice and immediately pick up the guitar in the thirty minutes I had between walking through the door and dinner. Dad would come home from work, see my mother and I singing along to a new song I learned, and he'd stay silent for the rest of the night. Obviously though, he was fuming. Mom always told me to do what made me happy but when she passed away Dad assumed that becoming just like her would make me happy.

With a small sigh, I shook my hair out of its braid and then tied it back up in a top knot, my phone soon buzzing like crazy with text messages.

213: Good morning Greer

213: Hope you have a great day!

I had already been at work when he sent those messages. This boy was slacking. I laughed to myself, knowing for a fact that wasn't true. Calum was sweet, from what I gathered the last few days, but I felt like he knew more about me that I did him. Despite, of course, the multiple websites that offered up his personal information on a gold platter. I kept scrolling, chuckling to myself.

213: If you heard the interview, I am so sorry.

213: Ashton didn't mean it like that, I swear. We're just tired of fans riding our asses about the people we hang out with. You're not nothing.

I had one missed call and a voicemail, so, with a coy grin, I called my answering machine to hear the message Calum had left. "Greer," his voice was... ugh. I could fall asleep listening to that voice, not even lying. "I am really sorry. Ryan asked about you and Ashton just said that what we did that night didn't mean anything but it did. I really hope you don't pay any attention-"

"You sound like a girl right now."

"Yeah, she's got you totally whipped and you just met her."

"Talk about balls in a vice grip."

"Guys, come on!" Calum whined and the voicemail ended.

I giggled at the three other voices and rolled my eyes, saving the message. He was quite the character, I'd give him that. I pressed the FaceTime button, watching as the icon shook with each ring. The screen went black and soon Calum's nose was right against the camera. "You've got a bat in the cave," I teased and he ripped the phone away, glaring at me.

"Greer, that's gross." I shrugged and we laughed, pulling my legs up to my chest. "Will you forgive me?" His eyes were pleading and I chuckled again.

"Cal, I've been at work all day. I didn't even hear an interview to be honest." He seemed to visibly relax. "You worry too much," I grinned crookedly and tightened my top knot slightly. "I can't talk long, I've got practice today."

"On a Sunday?" I nodded and he sighed. "I never practiced on Sunday."

"And that, Mr. Hood, is why you're in a band and not playing soccer."

"It's football."

"Where are you right now?"

"About to leave Chicago."

"It's soccer, refer to it as such when you're in my country."

"Your country?"

"Yep. Obama relinquished his rights to me, an eighteen year old college soccer player who gets stalked by crazy 5 Seconds of Summer fans," he winced and I giggled, rolling my eyes as I told him I was kidding. "Where to now?" I wiggled my eyebrows and he grinned.

"New York, we're about to get on the plane. It's about a three hour trip, including getting to the hotel." I nodded slowly. I'd probably still be at the field practicing but there was always afterwards. I let Calum know this and we said a quick goodbye, followed by me telling him that I hoped the plane didn't crash.

Way to inspire confidence, Greer.

I smiled, cheeks flushed, and covered my eyes. I hated that I didn't remember that night, but God I wanted to. I finally rolled off the bed and into a pair of running leggings and my soccer cleats, leaving the condo soon after.

@FearTheGreer : Time for a killer practice ladies @GheaSDWS @HannahJett @ACFrancis @SpeedyGonz0les @YourMomsGoalie

@Calum5SOS : "Hope an engine doesn't go out and you plummet to your death." Thanks @FearTheGreer. Break a leg at practice, literally (;