16. A First Date

"Oh god, West, you asshole! Not here, not here, not here!" I whisper-screamed as West yanked me down by the sleeve of the olive HazMat suit. The protective gear was padded with a scratchy material on the inside, and I could barely resist the urge to squirm in it. Allah knew when these were last washed, if they'd ever been cleaned.

"Shut up, midget! I know what I'm doing!" he hissed back.

"This is so fucking stupid, they're gonna see us any moment!" I said, voice even more hushed this time by the realisation of the proximity of our faces. Granted, there were two fat, ugly, worn out helmets between them, but his face was still deliciously close, enough for me to see the minutest ridges along his eyelids as his gaze darted around the field. My friends may have thought that they were being clever by tricking West into teaming up with me, but I was having a very hard time concentrating on the game with his tense arms and shoulders constantly bumping against mine.

Nevertheless, with Troy