AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The only weaknesses I was interested in learning about were those that affected my game. Once they were discovered, I worked like a madman to correct myself.
I was a fairly decisive person.
I didn’t fuck about with second-guessing my decisions or any of that shite. I made a decision and I stuck to it.
Like when I was six and decided I would make a career out of my passion.
Sorted.
Or when I decided a degree in business was the perfect fallback for me.
Simple.
I made a choice and I stuck to it.
I had to be really fucking careful with my choices because once I made a decision, once I set my mind on something—or worse, my heart—it was in my nature to follow it through with an obsessive hunger. No going back, no second-guessing, and no changing my mind.
My personality more than likely had a lot to do with my hesitance.
I didn’t connect with people for the sheer sake of it—and never girls.
I was well aware that I possessed an obsessive personality. It was the reason I was in my position so early on in my career.
Knowing this only made my current predicament more depressing.
In a matter of months, I’d lost my head to a fucking girl.
And my heart?
Fuck me, the piece of stone worked after all and had thrown me a curveball by attaching itself to a scrawny little third year with brown pigtails and blue eyes that fucking scorched my soul.
I needed to be really fucking careful with my next move, because once I decided that she was the girl for me, that would be that. Once I committed myself, once my heart laid claim on her, I might as well slap a label on my forehead stating, I’m yours. Please be gentle with me because I’m here to stay.
The scariest part of it all was knowing that I was holding myself back by the skin of my teeth, with the plunge looking more appealing every time I laid eyes on her.
“What are you doing?” Gibsie asked when he sauntered into my bedroom without knocking late Tuesday night, thankfully giving me a distraction from my thoughts.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Dropping my pen on my desk, I turned in my swivel chair and stared at him. “Homework.”
It wasn’t uncommon for Gibsie to arrive at my house at any time of the day or night. I was just glad that he didn’t have the fucking cat with him this time.
It was more than a possibility with him.
“Lad, you’re such a swot.” Gibsie tossed his schoolbag next to my desk and then threw himself down on my bed, folding his arms behind his head. “Did you get a text off Coach?”
“I did indeed,” I replied, finishing off a trigonometry problem I had been in the middle of solving when he barged in. “Let’s hope he manages to rope someone other than Mrs. Moore to help chaperone this time.”
Gibsie shuddered. “That woman is batshit.”
“Yes, she is,” I agreed.
Coach had sent a group text about an hour ago, letting us know that Royce had finally agreed to play us.
This Friday. In Dublin. On their school grounds. On the condition that I didn’t play.
I smirked to myself, happy that I had such an effect on these coaches.
“Dublin scumbags,” Gibsie grumbled. “Making life awkward for everyone.”
