Telling coach my fabricated excuse for our late arrival was a messy affair. Yelling wasn't her style, but the disappointment cloaking her features was enough to send my stomach plummeting around my ankles.

I was overseeing the lies, because much to my dismay, I was shockingly good at it. The words flowed from my lips freely, weaving an intricate web that I managed to never get caught in. I never slipped up, and the fibs were always believable. Lying wasn't exactly a talent I was proud of having, but today it proved its uses.

I silently made an oath that I would never lie again.

I claimed that the car broke down, which it had, so if you didn't go into technicalities, I was entirely truthful. The blood coating my face and arms were down to merely a light scrape, according to coach. Coach was adamant that we should be observed at the hospital, but much insisting from us finally accomplished our goal; she caved.

A bright grin spread across my face, as I quickly brushed down my skirt and joined my team for the end of warm up. Thankfully, the Sharks were excessively punctual, meaning Kaylee and I only missed a few motivational speeches and light stretches.

A few girls from the opposition were shooting our whole team dirty glares, much to our delight. Haters are far more fun to play against, because their reactions when they lost were far more entertaining. They were always sore losers.

"Bunch of haters." Kaylee quoted my thoughts with a fiendish grin. "All the better."

"Great minds think alike," I said with a grin almost identical to Kaylee's.

The seven girls on the rival team were all thin, but through their concealing, baggy shirts, I caught a fleeting glimpse of arms clad with thick muscles. I diverted my eyes from the smirking team of seven, concentrating on Kaylee, reeling off motivation from memory.

"It's not that we can win. We will win," she said. "Hands in."

Seven hands jostled for the top of the pile, pumping up and down three times and ending with a 'Go Sharks!'

The IS' team caught on, imitating us with a team chant of their own. Something about living life to fullest and confusing babbles that made no sense whatsoever.

The entire time they droned their ridiculous carol, they were smirking menacingly at us, which was greeted with symmetrical looks, loathing and hatred.

We had a brief water break before the game began. I took a long gulp from mine, savouring the delicious cool liquid that flowed over my parched tongue.

Since I'd arrived here, I'd already puked in the toilets twice, filling my mouth with the revolting taste of half-digested food.

I was exhausted, aching, hungry, thirsty and shivering in my thin white dress. I suppose I'd thought I was recovering, but I was lying to myself. Despite my condition, I knew I could play just as well as normal, and baring that thought in mind, I took my place on the court.

I knelt on the powdery sand, letting it run through my fingers as I steadied my breathing and focussed on tactics discussed for beating this undefeated team. We were two undefeated teams, battling it out for the title.

Minutes before the game began, a tall dark-haired boy approached me, his face scrunched in confusion. He was taller than me, a feat that not many can achieve, with me standing at "6.2. Icy blue eyes, midnight black hair, suntanned skin. I noticed he was barracking for IS, making me instantly suspicious of his intentions. Stories about that school didn't exactly boost its reputation.

"You're covered in blood," he stated. My hands instantly dove to my shoulders, where I found flakes of red under my fingernails when I scratched at them.

I glared at him, the interfering boy. Does anyone these days know how to mind their own business? I also swore under my breath. I thought I'd rubbed all the drying blood off my face and arms, but I clearly hadn't succeeded.

"That I am. What an observation," I congratulated, with a small clap of my hands. "Do you want a medal?"

The look he shot me was pure incredulity, as if he couldn't quite believe exactly what I'd said.

He opted to ignore my answer, asking, "Any reason why?"

"Because I can be." Not my best comeback of all time, but it would suffice for now.

"Aren't you a sweetheart," he said with a snort.

I folded my arms and focused on looking anywhere but at him, conveying the clear message of indifference. "And you know it, sweetheart."

He only laughed, a short cut-out sound, clearly not bothered by my show of boredom. "I was only trying to be polite," he reasoned. "Clearly civil conversation isn't really your thing."

I debated ignoring him, but decided that that went beyond the borders of disinterest and straight onto rude. "Not with strangers, no. With people I actually know, you would find me to be most pleasant."

I whipped my head so that my eyes landed on his face. He seemed to jump ever so slightly at my gaze; it took him a few moments for him to recover. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"I doubt you ever will."

His eyes lingered on my face for a moment, head cocked to the side as if he was fascinated with my answer. "Well, I hope I do," he said, studying the name stitched onto the breast of my uniform. "Kaitlyn Black."

"Maybe you will," I said, smiling slightly at the way he said my name. It flowed in a way that was almost musical, a slight English lilt on the vowels.

"I suppose that will have to do for now," he said, without introducing himself, of course.

I registered a whistle blowing, an irritating screech faded into the back of my consciousness; a signal symbolising the beginning of the game.

"I'll see you around," I said to the boy, but he was already gone, ambling across to the grandstand where throngs of people donning gold scarves and vests sat.

"She's in loooooove! She's in loooooove!" Kaylee sang, as she crouched on the ground ready to spring forward. She hadn't forgotten the recent events. But I'd promised her it wasn't too bad and the game was far more important than my wellbeing. Especially since I was fine. More lies.

"Oh, shut up Kaylee," I said, rearranging my features into a glare as I imitated her position.

She smirked at me for a moment until the game began, adding claims of 'chemistry,' 'true love' and 'soul mates' to the mix, much to my annoyance.

But my frown soon after transformed into small smile, one that lasted long after; especially once we won the game.