Antics
Chapter Nine
A month had passed since then. Brendon had moved in. You guys were very... compatable.
Quidditch was going great. You had won the last three games, advancing into the semi-finals of the last tournament.
There was a ball in celebration of it. An official, 'get-to-know-the-teams' thing. You had invited Brendon.
Today you had practice. We'll start from there.
"Hey Olive!" you said. Oliver and you were pretty cool now. Occasional fighting. But, hey. Nothing's perfect.
"Chris. Did you get the owl about the ball?" he asked.
"Yup. I'm bringing a date, okay?"
"What?"
"A date. Brendon."
"Oh, I didn't think we were supposed to." A bit of a chill laced into that single sentence.
"Well it says it on the card."
"Oh. Guess I didn't read close enough." he said, shortly. "Go get ready for practice."
Sheesh. What's wrong with him, right?
"Okay, this tournament is going to be hard guys. Best teams from our league. That means we're really going to have to bone up. The team we're playing this week, they're keeper is pretty good. Chasers are strong. But all of their plays only involve one person. So beaters, you guys will have to watch out and see who has the quaffle. The other players are usually just used as a distraction. They don't work too well as a team. So we just really have to focus on that. Run drills for a half hour, then switch to plays 7, 13, 14, and 18."
You guys did exactly what he said. Oliver really had an eye for getting down to the basics of a team. As much as you hated to admit it, he was a pretty good captain.
Drills were just warm-ups. They consisted of certain exercises and such to build up certain muscles for certain people.
Following drills, was play practice. Practicing plays. Over and over. Til, even if you knew what would happen, you could still get tricked.
That usually lasted about five hours. Every day. After that, most of the team mates went and worked out.
But not you. You had a job. A side job. You could quit. Quidditch payed for everything. You just got bored during the day.
But today, you didn't have work. You took work off. And with that extra money from work, you went shopping.
SHOPPING FOR DRESSES!
The ball was going to be amazing. Already decided that.
Three hours of shopping.
Three hours of ugly dresses.
Semi-okay dresses.
Un-affordable dresses.
Then finally...
After much time...
And much much patience...
THE dress.
The prefect dress.
Not too much.
Not too little.
Not too plain.
Just perfect.
Quidditch was going great. You had won the last three games, advancing into the semi-finals of the last tournament.
There was a ball in celebration of it. An official, 'get-to-know-the-teams' thing. You had invited Brendon.
Today you had practice. We'll start from there.
"Hey Olive!" you said. Oliver and you were pretty cool now. Occasional fighting. But, hey. Nothing's perfect.
"Chris. Did you get the owl about the ball?" he asked.
"Yup. I'm bringing a date, okay?"
"What?"
"A date. Brendon."
"Oh, I didn't think we were supposed to." A bit of a chill laced into that single sentence.
"Well it says it on the card."
"Oh. Guess I didn't read close enough." he said, shortly. "Go get ready for practice."
Sheesh. What's wrong with him, right?
"Okay, this tournament is going to be hard guys. Best teams from our league. That means we're really going to have to bone up. The team we're playing this week, they're keeper is pretty good. Chasers are strong. But all of their plays only involve one person. So beaters, you guys will have to watch out and see who has the quaffle. The other players are usually just used as a distraction. They don't work too well as a team. So we just really have to focus on that. Run drills for a half hour, then switch to plays 7, 13, 14, and 18."
You guys did exactly what he said. Oliver really had an eye for getting down to the basics of a team. As much as you hated to admit it, he was a pretty good captain.
Drills were just warm-ups. They consisted of certain exercises and such to build up certain muscles for certain people.
Following drills, was play practice. Practicing plays. Over and over. Til, even if you knew what would happen, you could still get tricked.
That usually lasted about five hours. Every day. After that, most of the team mates went and worked out.
But not you. You had a job. A side job. You could quit. Quidditch payed for everything. You just got bored during the day.
But today, you didn't have work. You took work off. And with that extra money from work, you went shopping.
SHOPPING FOR DRESSES!
The ball was going to be amazing. Already decided that.
Three hours of shopping.
Three hours of ugly dresses.
Semi-okay dresses.
Un-affordable dresses.
Then finally...
After much time...
And much much patience...
THE dress.
The prefect dress.
Not too much.
Not too little.
Not too plain.
Just perfect.