Chapter 5: Chapter Two: Fate Is An Evil Spirit.-1

Chapter Two: "Fate Is An Evil Spirit." I OPENED THE door to Sam's flat. He and his cousin Peter lived in a huge penthouse, even bigger than the one Caleb had back home. Their rooms were in two separate hallways so each could have their privacy which they both incredibly needed seeing as Peter sometimes liked to walk around naked. I haven't seen that and I really hope I would never have to see that. I almost tripped on one of Sam's shoes in the hallway. I knew they were his because they were white All Star Converse. I took my shoes off and slid across the hardwood floor. I didn't even bother finding out where Sam was. I immediately went into the large kitchen and grabbed a Pop-Tart, unwrapped it and put it in the toaster. There was always a pack of them just for me because I was here at least once a week. "Hazel?" His clear voice rang through the place. "Kitchen!" I yelled back as I heard his footsteps. Sam came into the room, a textbook in his hand and he ruffled his wet hair with a towel before flinging it onto the counter. And he was shirtless. Why was he shirtless? I asked myself, not really complaining. His hair was messy in different wet strands but he still made it work. He had sweats on as his eyes trailed over the book, not taking his eyes off of it even as he reached me. "How was practice this morning?" "It was fine," I said as he put his book down, reaching into the fridge to grab a bottle of Coke. Just as he was about to raise the bottle to his pink lips, he stopped and raised an eyebrow at me. "It was fine?" He put the bottle down on the island, leaning against it and crossing his muscled arms. "Well, I'm sore as hell. My legs feel as if they tried to run around the world...at least eight times. I could barely keep my eyes open as I tried to study for my exam for Monday. So yes I am totally and completely fine." I closed my eyes and leaned against the fridge, feeling the cool steel against my back and I almost released a sigh. "My poor baby." I could clearly hear the mock in tone even as he included the stupid word of endearment. I reached out with my eyes closed and managed to hit him on the chest. "Stupid Jerk." I felt his fingers pull at the zipper of my sweater until it reached the bottom. He pushed the sleeves off of my shoulders, taking my sweater off and putting it away. Sam's warm hands were found at my hips, pushing my shirt just a fraction up before skimming the sliver of skin. "Honey I'm home!" Oh my God seriously? I thought as my eyes flew open to meet Sam's annoyed expression. "Fuck." He whispered, not taking his hands off me as he looked over his shoulder at Peter. Peter Robin Cahill. He was Vince Cahill's brother's son. With brown eyes and brown hair, he sounded like a regular everyday guy but like every Cahill boy he was considered to be insanely attractive not that I've noticed. I didn't actually care. But right now he was what Sam would call the biggest something blocker right now. I was annoyed as I plastered a fake smile on my face. "Peter." "Macy!" He exclaimed walking over to a cabinet and taking out a beer. "I thought you were leaving for Yorkshire," Sam mentioned, dragging his hands slowly off of me and resting his head against me. "Nah next weekend," Peter said, sitting up on the counter. "I think Jenna's getting sick of me after we've been together for five years but its s'fine." "Five years?" I asked when I heard the ding from the toaster. "You've been dating one another since you were thirteen?" I met Jenna. She was a pretty nice person, blonde and all big blue eyed. How she ended up with Peter only God knows. Peter nodded. "Sometimes it's been on and off but I know that I love her." Something flickered in his eyes before he blinked and jumped off of the counter. "I'll be in my room, goodbye lovebirds!" When Peter retreated, Sam smirked at me. "Can we go back to what we were doing?" I stared at him, pushing him back gently. "No, you have a test to study for and I'm going to call in and get some food for the night." "What's Mads up to?" He asked, grabbing my hand and sweater as we walked out of the room. "Um...she mentioned a date with that guy that works at the coffee shop," I told him as I pulled out my phone. "Isn't his name like Robert or something?" Sam asked with dislike clear on his face. "Yeah." "Really? He's in one of my lectures and he's kind of prick." "Then I hope she knows who she's going out with tonight," I said as I entered the living room, curling up on the couch. Sam sat down next to me, throwing an arm around me. "I got assigned this project." He told me as after I had ordered a pizza. "What do you mean assigned a project?" Sam's eyes flickered around the room before I touched his chin so he could stare right at me. "Its partner work and this girl...is my partner." This was already going down a bad road. "Who's the girl?" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "You know? That girl on your team? That girl? Um...Miranda? Sasha? Monya? I don't- I don't even know- " That's when my eyes almost pop out of my head and I jump up to stand in front of him. "Tanya Nesmith? Defender? Sweeper? Thinks she's the absolute best at everything? Is an Alex in another lifetime-sorry in another country?" I've never hated someone as much as I've hated Tanya Nesmith. I've said that before about Beatrice but that's over and done with. I disliked Alex because of her attitude. I'll never see Alex again so yes in my mind I've forgiven her for her taunting because according to Sam, I was a very forgivable person. But Tanya? No words can explain. She's like a porcupine in a herd of soft fluffy bunnies. She's like a forest fire that never seems to burn out. She's like Hera in the Percy Jackson novels. When I first met her at tryouts in early September, I didn't understand why she kept trying to kick me, sometimes when I didn't even have the ball. Then I learned something. That girl who was definitely smaller than me considering she was 5'4 and I was 6'1, hated me because of a certain person who I was currently standing over.