Post by FREDDIE FOSTER on Mar 2, 2012 18:44:33 GMT -5
Insanity could go fuck itself.
Team workouts to Insanity videos could go fuck themselves, too.
In fact, they could have a nice little orgy—team workouts and Insanity—and just go ahead and inbreed all the hell they wanted and not invite him, and he’d be perfectly fine with it, to be honest. Hell, he’d bow out gracefully. Wouldn’t even be offended if he didn’t get an invite—which was saying quite a lot, as Freddie could get very irritable about invitations.
He’d gotten up from the floor after the ab portion of the workout shaking. Just a little bit—not half as much as the smallest kid on the team—but still enough to be noticeable. God knew he wouldn’t be able to laugh tomorrow without feeling like ripping his stomach clean off. And punching Coach Carter right in the face. Hard. Preferably at the same time.
The shower had helped little, and Freddie found himself limping in a manner he did not at all like as he crossed out of the locker room and onto the football field—the only way to get into the main portion of the field house and then out, back to his dorm where he felt like sleeping until he woke up dead.
Halfway across, however, he heard his name. Forced to wrench his attention away from the miniature rubber turds he’d been kicking about on his way across the synthetic grass, Freddie looked up. Of course, he’d recognized the voice. Only Kaylee would follow the taunt of “chicken” with an actual animal noise. He smiled. She knew him well—God knew he couldn’t resist a challenge, even one as ridiculous as this. Even when he was so sore, he could hardly concentrate on putting one sneaker-clad foot in front of another.
He dropped his backpack instantly, kicking the untied shoes off his feet and towards it before turning back to his friend, cocksure smirk on his face. “You’re pathetic, Kay. If you needed a teammate, you should’ve just asked,” head shaking slightly in what could only be mock disappointment, he crossed the field to where she stood. Surveying the few boys she’d been playing with, he gave them a collective nod (thankfully, none of them were linebackers. They and Freddie didn’t exactly get along, after last year when he’d nailed the number one starter’s girlfriend on a whim he definitely hadn’t initiated).
Looking back to Kaylee, he spoke once more. “So, how much are you losing by?”
Team workouts to Insanity videos could go fuck themselves, too.
In fact, they could have a nice little orgy—team workouts and Insanity—and just go ahead and inbreed all the hell they wanted and not invite him, and he’d be perfectly fine with it, to be honest. Hell, he’d bow out gracefully. Wouldn’t even be offended if he didn’t get an invite—which was saying quite a lot, as Freddie could get very irritable about invitations.
He’d gotten up from the floor after the ab portion of the workout shaking. Just a little bit—not half as much as the smallest kid on the team—but still enough to be noticeable. God knew he wouldn’t be able to laugh tomorrow without feeling like ripping his stomach clean off. And punching Coach Carter right in the face. Hard. Preferably at the same time.
The shower had helped little, and Freddie found himself limping in a manner he did not at all like as he crossed out of the locker room and onto the football field—the only way to get into the main portion of the field house and then out, back to his dorm where he felt like sleeping until he woke up dead.
Halfway across, however, he heard his name. Forced to wrench his attention away from the miniature rubber turds he’d been kicking about on his way across the synthetic grass, Freddie looked up. Of course, he’d recognized the voice. Only Kaylee would follow the taunt of “chicken” with an actual animal noise. He smiled. She knew him well—God knew he couldn’t resist a challenge, even one as ridiculous as this. Even when he was so sore, he could hardly concentrate on putting one sneaker-clad foot in front of another.
He dropped his backpack instantly, kicking the untied shoes off his feet and towards it before turning back to his friend, cocksure smirk on his face. “You’re pathetic, Kay. If you needed a teammate, you should’ve just asked,” head shaking slightly in what could only be mock disappointment, he crossed the field to where she stood. Surveying the few boys she’d been playing with, he gave them a collective nod (thankfully, none of them were linebackers. They and Freddie didn’t exactly get along, after last year when he’d nailed the number one starter’s girlfriend on a whim he definitely hadn’t initiated).
Looking back to Kaylee, he spoke once more. “So, how much are you losing by?”
