Page 7 of Jockstraps & Newspapers

Chapter six

A list of articles to work on

Cassiopeia

M aybe she judged Elliot Bonesaw too quickly.

Flying into action, without more than a hunch, he came to her rescue from Stevie.

Granted, Stevie wasn’t the first slimeball to get in her face.

He just happened to be the one to catch her in a vulnerable moment.

Normally, she would rip Stevie’s face off with words and make him regret breathing in her presence.

Lucky for him, she was bemoaning her existence.

No, she had judged Elliot Bonesaw too quickly.

She’d lumped him in with the brainless, shallow, vapid crowd.

Somehow Elliot saw her clearer than anyone.

Maybe minus Lily. She let out a heavy exhale as she looked down to her notepad full of SportsBall questions.

Flipping back a page, she overlooked her list of things to include.

Mr. Pearson asked for:

Obviously the massive fluff piece on Elliot.

An interview with Renner

A breakdown of the team and their stats to post pre-game starts.

An in depth look into the game for pre-game.

Interviews and recaps for every game.

He did mention if she found something interesting and she wrote him a piece he could use, that he’d pay her double.

She couldn’t imagine she’d find anything interesting for Mr. Pearson to publish.

Maybe if everyone was secretly in a fight ring underneath the field.

However, when she dug into SportsBall and the King’s Fall League on the way here, she found herself coming up blank. They were all disgustingly clean.

Cass glanced from her notebook to Elliot squatting and lifting a massive weight over his head at the same time.

Everyone was working with weights in varying directions.

Toad was flipping a boulder sized weight across the field with an Orc player doing the same.

The Fowlst player was flying up in the air and holding his position with the weight in his talons.

Tens sauntered up to her other side and handed a water bottle full of sloshing green liquid. “Here, drink.”

Now, Cassiopeia never, in her life, uncapped a water bottle and took a heavy swig faster than when Tens offered it to her.

When she recapped it, Tens bent over her and swiped sunscreen back onto her cheeks and forehead.

Like a mother hen, Tens nodded approvingly at Cass’s cream cheese smeared bagel face of sunscreen before stalking off to offer a water bottle to someone else.

“Heh, first time?” Elliot grunted with a jolly but breathless chuckle.

Cass glared at him, “Hush you.”

“Tens is not one for many words, but she’ll fix you up right as rain. She doesn’t let anyone here get dehydrated or burnt if she can avoid it.” He nodded at the bottle in her hand.

Cass held the bottle up and grimaced, “Why is it green?” She hadn’t even tasted it going down. It was thin like water, but the slurry before her face looked questionable at best.

“Green apple flavor; it’s a hydration mix, add water and it keeps you from losing all your fluids.

” Elliot put his weight aside, clambering to his hooves.

He grabbed up a water bottle of his own and took a healthy gulp.

Cass scoffed, cocking her head to the side as she faced him.

He wiped his face dry with the back of his hand and put the water bottle back down.

“I have my own water,” she huffed.

“Then give it back.” Elliot nodded his chin toward Tens.

“No.” Cass clutched the bottle to her chest.

“Then drink up,” he chided her cheekily, his grin smug and oozing with mischief.

Cass glared at him before taking a slow sip of her green water.

It was a hint of green apple. Mostly, it tasted like the inside of her mouth.

Despite having drank water that morning, she did in fact feel a smidgen dehydrated.

Standing in the burning sun, it zaps life from the body.

Cass also took some of the sunscreen from her cheeks and rubbed it into the back of her neck.

It wasn’t sweet smelling like hers, and it left her cheeks greasy, but she did enjoy the cooling touch on her warm cheeks.

“So, what’s the low down. What do you owe Pearson? Just the article on me, or is there more?” Elliot bent at the hips, stretching out his arms over his head.

Cass snorted when he caught his wrist sweatband on his horns. His eyes shot wide with a moment of panic. Rushing to his aid, he kept bent so she could slip the band off the tip of his horns. He chuckled, “Thanks.”

“I kind of owe you for saving me from Slimy Stevie.” She jutted a thumb back at the benches. Stevie and the other guy with him entered the stands and were in the announcer booth with a gaggle of other rich bootlickers.

“You do not owe me anything for keeping you out of his grubby grabbers,” Elliot snorted hard, his nose ring shaking.

“Grubby grabbers?” she snickered, flipping to a new page as a joke. “Do tell.”

Elliot roared with laughter, hands on his thick hips.

Warmth filled her face, and it wasn’t the sunshine.

Her stomach twisted in knots as he tried and failed to dry his laughter tears on his messy tanktop.

She took pity on him and handed him the blouse she’d worn to the field from her pockets.

He beamed at her. Dabbing lightly with the edges of the shirt, he handed it back to her.

“Stevie is a right d-bag. He doesn’t see anyone that’s not him as anything more than meat.

We’re all toys for him to play with until he’s bored.

Basically, it doesn’t matter if you’re the coach, the captain, or a random bystander, if you’re in his dad’s league or on his dad’s field, you’re his meat to slap and push around however he likes.

” Elliot dropped into a low squat and patted the grass in front of him.

Cass took the opportunity to sit with him.

He flopped down onto his backside and spread his hooves to the point of being scandalous, only to stretch over his lap.

He offered his hands and she took them. “Put your boots to my hooves, it’ll give you better leverage. ”

So, foot to foot, hand in hand, she helped tug him across the ground then eased her grip. He would sit up fully and lift the weight slowly over his head, then back down before she’d stretch him again. “I’d ask why no one puts Stevie in his place, but I know why.”

“I did once,” Elliot groaned as he touched his belly to the ground.

“What happened?” She furrowed her brows.

“We were out celebrating a win, everyone at Mumfords pub. He showed up and was buying people rounds. Then, he came up to me and Coach, chatting us up. When he went to leave, he slapped my ass. I whirled around to tell him off when he tugged my tail.” Elliot sat up, letting out a slow breath.

“Elliot, oh, I’m so sorry,” Cass blurted out.

“No problems, Cassie, he took his lumps in the form of me knocking all his teeth out.” Elliot shrugged nonchalantly, lifting the weight up and over his head.

Cass turned, looking up into the announcer booth. “Wait… all his teeth?”

“They put them back,” Elliot groaned with irritation.

“That’s unfortunate,” She sighed, returning her attention to him. “So, he just gets to sexually harass and even assault you in public, and get away with it?”

Disgust filled her body at the thought of Elliot being harassed.

If someone as relaxed and breezy as Elliot lost his cool, it had to be bad.

She couldn’t imagine him punching anyone.

Granted, she hadn’t seen him play yet but…

even then, she couldn’t imagine Elliot Bonesaw mustering up the anger to deck anyone. It made her uncontrollably furious.

“His dad pays our bills, and the last person, other than me, to say something was mysteriously let go. It’s the game you have to play in order to play the game, you know?” Elliot sat the weight down with a sad, forlorn look filling his features.

Cass hated seeing the embodiment of sunshine frown, eyes lost in the pattern of grass beneath them.

“I’m sorry, I…” But there was something she could do.

And a protective, mischievous feeling pumped through her veins like angry wasps in her blood.

There was something she could do. Mr. Pearson wanted an interesting story?

She had something that could hit the front page.

However, she needed to do her due diligence.

Research was in order. “So, uh, to answer your original question. I’ve got your piece, obviously, and he wants me to do a mini piece on Coach Renner’s retirement.

Breakdown of the game like a ‘how to’ for people who’ve never seen SportsBall.

A breakdown of stats and games per game, and interviews. Basically.”

“Oooh, okay, a full work up, right on, right on.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, unless I can find something juicy to write about.”

“Yeah? What’s juicy?” he chuckled.

“You wouldn’t happen to be hiding a fight club underneath the field full of debauchery and illegal goods? Would you?” She grinned from pointy ear to ear as Elliot tossed his head back. His laughter was contagious.

“Sorry, I’m an open book but I’m not that kind of book,” he chortled.

“Mmm, there’s gotta be something dirty I can dig up on you.” She playfully narrowed her eyes on him.

“Well, I can’t tell you my secrets if I don’t know yours.” Elliot put his hands behind his back, stretching backward.

“I’m not the subject of an article.” She picked up her notebook and pen once more. “So, what’s your secret?”

Elliot let out a playful huff out of his nose, “Alright, you really want to know?”

Excitement and disbelief prickled her skin as she flipped to a new page. “Absolutely, hit me with it.”

“I hate pineapple and I don’t think it belongs on pizza.” He flashed her a knowing smile.

Cass tossed her notebook and pen into her lap. “I know teenagers who can stir up better controversy.”

Elliot tossed his arms out to the side before working up to his feet.

He offered her a hand that she took, letting him hoist her off the grass.

When her boots hit the field, she put her hands to her hips, staring at him in disbelief.

Was Elliot Bonesaw just too perfect? That’s so infuriating. She huffed, shaking her head.

“What?” He rumbled with chuckles, shoulders shaking.

“Nothing,” she rolled her eyes, snatching up her notebook and pen from the ground. “You just infuriate me sometimes.”

Elliot loomed over her, his head blocking out the sun.

She raked her eyes up from the notebook in her hands, across the broad expanse of his chest, to his face leaning over her.

He grinned, shaking his sweaty, fluffy head at her and getting a few droplets on her cheeks.

Her fingers curled around her notebook, left eye twitching.

He wiggled his fluffy brows suggestively. “It’s cause I’m fun.”

Cassiopeia tossed her notebook to the ground, jabbing her forefinger to his chest. “ I don’t hate fun .”

“Then, I don’t infuriate you.”

“You do!” she squawked, ready to list him everything…

when he brushed his hair back between his horns, smiling down at her.

Her heart skipped a beat, swallowing over her tongue.

When had her stomach turned to a swirling vortex?

Butterflies beating against her chest, she blurted out, “You’re childish. ”

“And you’re professional.” He wheeled on his hooves. “Alright! Everyone! Time for lunges!”

Every person on the team groaned. Cass took up her water bottle and chugged the green liquid with abandon.

As she fanned herself, she turned from the team lining up in teams of five players, going down the field in lunges.

Who are you? Getting flustered by a pretty smile?

She dried her mouth on her shirt and worked to get herself under control.

It’s the sun. It’s the heat. It’s the…it’s him. Because Elliot Bonesaw was perfect and everyone was in love with him.

Cassiopeia knew immediately she was in trouble because her greatest weakness was someone giving her the time of day. The back and forth, the banter, the playfulness, his full attention had been on her, and she was in trouble.

Cass couldn’t afford to like Elliot Bonesaw. Not if she was going to write about him.