An array of boos and cheers left the stands - Aimee had gotten the winning point for her team at the last second; bringing your world crashing down, suddenly all the practices, all the late nights, all the missed moments, felt like they were for nothing. It was all for what? To get your ass handed to you by Aimee Guthrie - Pathetic.

As your team said there congratulations to the opposing team - you couldn’t. Nope, you couldn’t face Aimee. She’d tease you relentlessly and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold back on punching her in the face. So, you did the sensible thing and made your way into the changing room.

Then you remembered - Shit - the after party. Alchohol, you reminded yourself. You could just get drunk, whilst avidly avoiding the woman.

The after party was already in full swing: The house at its full capacity, music blaring loud enough for the next town over to be able to hear. Standing in the back garden, sipping from your red cup, surrounded by your tipsy teammates; you finally felt content, or maybe that was just the alchohol having its affects on you.

Then that’s when you saw her. Through the crowd of drunk partygoers, you saw the prettiest woman you’d even seen - Hell, in the whole word. She was radiating confidence like you’d never seen before; She knew she was hot. She was wearing her jers- Shit, she was a cheerleader for Aimees team. How’d you never notice her before?!

Her tan skin glistened under the gentle moonlight. Her toned stomach on show as her she’d tied her shirt up; Leaving little to the imagination. Her long, shiny hair sprawled out with no care - yet, she still looked perfect.

Clearly noticing your stares - which wasn’t hard, it’d been what? Almost 2 minuets straight - she threw you a smirk, bringing up her cigarette to her lips.

“Yo, who’s that?” You asked, elbowing one of your teammates; your eyes still on her.