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Chapter 2 : Never Show Your Weakness
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The scorching hot water pounded my back, undoing the knots of stress which lie embedded in there. For a moment, I was relaxed, all by myself. I never minded seclusion; it’s just always nice to get away from people for a while. My teammates were probably still out there, receiving hearty congrats from spectators.
I hated compliments. They make me blush, and I hate blushing. Hence, why I’m here in the locker rooms, now finished with my therapeutic shower, alone. I wrapped the towel around my body and shook my tendrils of damp, dark brown hair. I released a relaxing sigh, a soothing sense of euphoria taking over me.
What a grand day. Ravenclaw won. Slytherin lost. I had the locker room to myself. Happy, happy, happy….
“Who’s there?” someone questioned from behind.
I shrieked, nearly jumping out of my towel. But I would never flash anyone willingly, especially the one who was now in front of me. Holy—
“What the hell are you doing here?!” my voice was thick with rage as I saw a tall, dark haired figure leaning casually against the wall. His intense eyes glanced into mine. There went my grand day.
“PMS much, Dobbs?” Jason Samuels scoffed, his face hardened. Briefly, I saw his eyes trace over my be-toweled body. For some reason, he seemed puzzled, bordering on mystified. Odd.
“Don’t look at me like that!” I screamed at him, crossing my arms over my chest with repulsion. This is why I enjoy seclusion; privacy, relaxation, harmony, and absolutely no Samuels. Guess a girl can’t get everything.
“Like what?” The perv. His expression bordered on amusement.
“Like you know what it looks like underneath,” I exclaimed back, tightening the towel over my body to ensure that it would not betray me by embarrassingly falling to the floor and unveiling my nakedness. With my luck, anything of the humiliating extremes is possible.
As if snapped back to reality, the dazed look left his face and was replaced with a cold glare. “Please, don’t instill nightmares in my head. The sight of this is worse enough.”
Did he just call me a ‘this’?! How dare he, the—gahh, I don’t even know what to name him. There’s no word which could definitely characterize him, his uncharted levels of evilness are just too much to comprehend.
“Leave and go be annoying somewhere else.” I coldly ordered. More like snarled; I tended to regress into a vicious persona whenever near the dunce. Impulsive reaction, can’t help it.
My eyes narrowed on him. “Excuse me?”
“I said,” he enunciated as if he were talking to a toddler. “N-o.”
“Why not?!” I really was in need of my clothes, and I certainly did not want to change in front of him. I shuddered at the thought.
“It’s my locker room.” He stated confidently, smugness overtaking his striking features. He planted himself more assuredly in his position, making it apparent that he would not move an inch under any circumstances. The fact that I wanted him to leave made him all the more intractable.
“Like hell it is,” I replied back, feeling the fire of my voice. “It’s mine! I am the Beater of the team!”
“So am I!”
“Yes, well I’m actually good,” I countered irately. “You’re a poor excuse for a Beater who just sit on a broom and bashes whatever comes at you like a bloody caveman.”
“What did you just say?” he questioned with hostility, abandoning his laidback position and standing up straight with a contentious glare in his eyes. If he thought his muscled build was intimidating me, he was sadly mistaken.
“It’s a wonder why you weren’t sorted into Slytherin, you know House of the Bitches.” He derisively spat. “You’d definitely be welcome there.”
“It’s quite miraculous that you were actually sorted into Ravenclaw.” I fought back. “You’re so dumb you make trolls look like Einstein.”
“Ooh nice one,” he taunted sarcastically. “Who taught you that one, McGonagall?”
“Please stop talking. The air would feel a lot less nauseating without your annoying voice pervading the atmosphere.”
“Well, the temperature would be a lot less Arctic without your high and mighty bitchiness. Seriously, you could cool down Egypt at the rate you’re going, Ice Bitch.”
“Go to hell.”
“Why would I want to go somewhere where you would inevitably end up?”
“You’re lucky I don’t have my bat with me, otherwise I’d be beating you senselessly right now.”
“Speaking of which, your Beater skills are really starting to get lax.”
“That’s really saying something because I’m still better than you.”
“No,” I growled. “I know.”
Our altercation seemed to be getting fiercer than ever, I could already sense the bloodshed and gore impending. Whenever fighting, I never seem aware of the actions that my body is doing. So, it was one hell of a surprise to discover how close we were to each other, without even realizing it. His face was just inches away from mine, my body almost pressing up against his.
He seemed shocked as well, not really remembering how we moved into an inch separation of each other. I could feel his breath upon my face, and I felt myself blush. He stared at me curiously, the puzzled look once again adorned on his face. Not that he didn’t always look puzzled (the dumbass), he just now appeared unreadable, clearly speculating something.
For a second, we were silent. We didn’t move, we didn’t breathe. We just stood there, motionless, wondering how we were drawn so close to each other without even realizing it. My brain was screaming at me to move, but my legs were inconveniently unresponsive.
I could see the whole entire Ravenclaw team over his shoulder, their jaws dropping at how close Samuels and I were together without even strangling each other. Thankfully, my legs regained their consciousness and I impulsively shoved him away from me with stalwart force. He gladly jumped far away from me as if I was contagious with the Plague, the fiery glare returning.
“So this is what you two do in the lockers,” Jeremy Stretton smirked wickedly. My face blushing, because of the whole situation, as well as how the whole team was watching me in just a towel, only made us look guiltier. “I knew it all along.”
“Shut it, Stretton.” Samuels grimaced with disgust. “Like I’d ever touch her.”
I was grateful for his interruption, yet insulted with his reply. “Please, spare me the disgusting mental image.”
“Spare it?!” Ben Chambers questioned with smug satisfaction, as if he’s been expecting this moment to arrive. His brown eyes lit with excitement. “We just saw full action of it right in front of our eyes.”
“The only action you’ll be seeing if you don’t leave right now is my fist meeting your face!” Jill Billings intervened, to which I was extremely thankful for. Her sweet facial features made the words that came out of her mouth sound completely unfitting, yet all the more threatening. “Now get out of here you bloody perverts and let Emma change!”
Afraid to face the wrath of Jill, all of the members obediently left. I would have to remember to give Jill a huge hug the next time I saw her; the girl came in handy when you needed to exterminate the male factor.
“Oi, Dobbs!” Roger Davies called, slowing his pace as he walked backwards towards the exit. “I’ll need to have a word with you in private. With you too, Samuels.”
“Uggh, why are you punishing me?” I whined. Just kill me now. Our little quarrel already filled up my quota of patience today, I don’t think I could stand being near him for much longer.
“Trust me, no one is more repulsed than I.” Jason scowled. He turned to leave, but not without eyeing me strangely and unnecessarily. Now it was my turn to be puzzled, what the hell?
As I started gathering my clothes, I finally understood: I was still naked in a towel.
“You wanted to talk?” I strutted over to Roger, now fully clothed in jeans and a sweater. He stepped aside to reveal the other person joining this meeting.
“Ew.” I greeted Samuels with, a friendly ‘hello’ of the jackass nationality.
“Please, no fighting.” Roger tried desperately to prevent another Samuels-Dobbs argument. “After what you two pulled today, I thought that would’ve stopped you from arguing.”
“Nah, he’s just keeps flowing with reasons to hate him.” I replied conversationally. “It’s like a never-ending fountain. It’s not his fault…actually wait, no. It is.”
He smiled wryly. “Looks like Little Miss Ice Bitch here has some defrosting to do.”
“Oh Samuels, you—”
“Enough!” Roger even started waving his hands to convey how much he wanted to avoid an argument. “Now, I brought you two out here for a talk between teammates. Not to shout at each other like crazy politicians.”
We remained silent. Even though he sucked as a Keeper, he was still Captain. Thus, we must respect his authority, even though he didn’t deserve it. He just knew the right pants to get into. I wonder if the Sorting Hat was drunk when he sorted Roger Davies into Ravenclaw.
“Now, I feel as though I’ve been a faithful Captain to you lot,”
I restrained from snickering. I could see a tight grin fighting onto Samuels’s face as well.
“But I’ve decided,” his voice became awfully strained. “To step down from Captain position, because the pressure of it all is really taking a toll on my school work.”
I smirked. A.k.a. Flitwick bribed you to step down from Captainship because you suck. Trust me, the day Roger Davies starts caring about his grades is the day his Keeper skills start improving. Impossibility of the century.
His voice sounded as if he was making a big sacrifice for the good of the team; he didn’t know that it was the biggest blessing we would ever receive. “So, I’ve decided to give the title of Captain to—.”
“Yes!” Samuels and I simultaneously rejoiced, and then eyed each other challengingly.
“He means me.” I stated defiantly, already picturing the authority I would possess over the team. My first edict as Captain: exterminate a certain player whose name begins with ‘J’ and ends with ‘ason Samuels’. Three guesses who…
“In your dreams, princess.” He scoffed disbelievingly. “I’m the obvious choice.”
“Hey, I said no arguing!” Roger interrupted. “I didn’t specify who I wanted to be Captain. You both are great assets to the team, and I want only the best to be the leader.
“That shouldn’t be quite a difficult decision, especially when comparing me to him.”
Roger sent me a warning stare, and I was instantly silenced. “Or, I could just make you two co-captains—”
“Like hell I would ever share power with her!” Samuels protested, having a mental nightmare at the thought of it. “That would be like ruling with Satan!”
“Like you’d be any better?” I threw him a questioning look.
“Maybe I should just pass this role onto someone else.” Roger stated loudly above our arguing.
“No!” we both shouted in unison, looking at each other with livid incredulity.
“Fine then,” Roger huffed with finality. “The Captain will be the strongest of you two. I expect only the best and the strongest. No weaknesses, alright?”
“Yes.” I sighed.
“I’ll be observing you two,” Roger advised, his eyes darting between us. “I want a strong and impenetrable Captain for the team, so one of you best fit the criteria.”
With that, he left in a rush, possibly to avoid another one of our spats. It took me a moment to process what has been requested upon us, and now it was time to glower.
Just another reason to hate Samuels, he’s in the running for a role that’s rightfully mine. And for some odd reason, he’s deluded himself into thinking that he can take that role. Ridiculous! He must be stopped.
“Bow down to your new Captain, Samuels,” I snarled at him viciously, our stare down even more heated with anger than before. Strangely, he started walking up to me.
I didn’t even realize how close he was until I could feel his presence, an inch away from me. Oh no, not another locker room repeat.
He stared intensely at me, as if trying to read my face for some unsolvable answer. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see something—his hand?—reluctantly lift up, but then shot down abruptly. His troubled features were gone and hardened into ice, as always. His blazing, cold eyes lingered onto mine, an infuriating smirk forming on his lips. “’Night Dobbs.”
With that, he left me. Breathless. Breathless?! He left me bloody pissed, is more like it. What is it with him lately? First the locker room, now here. I seriously dreaded a pattern that would start to form. What is he trying to get at?
The locker room I could understand, a girl basically stark naked would make any horny male loopy (yet the fact that it was Samuels did not alleviate the matter at all). But the way his eyes,…looking at me—the intensity, the bewilderment. Then the spontaneous amusement. It made me wonder….
As Roger’s words stirred through my head, I could feel rage mounting high. That was Samuels’s plot! He’s trying to find my weakness…and apparently he thinks he’s found it. Is he truly under the impression that I’m interested in him?! Bahaha, what a laugh!
I, Emma Dobbs a.k.a. ‘The Better Beater’ of Ravenclaw, am not attracted to him in the least bit; ughh gag me. An attraction between us is as unlikely as Dumbledore being gay! Ha!
But then I remembered the troubled look on Samuels’s face. The strange look of grim puzzlement and curiosity which surfaced only after looking at….me.
A devious smile formed on my face. Jason Samuels does have a weakness, and I believe that I have discovered it. And what does one do when discovering the weakness, break down those impenetrable walls and reap the benefits. Even though they say fraternizing with the enemy is bad, who said anything about ‘fraternizing’ with a teammate?
Dearest Readers Who Strangely Love My Stories,
Thank you so much for all of your positive feedback! Because I barely write about Quidditch, I had a major panic attack when I posted this up, thinking “WHAT THE HECK DID I JUST DO!?!” But you readers like it, so I’ll keep supplying it;) You have no idea how much I love those little reviews! But now, the plot thickens….more Jason and Emma action coming up so comment your feedback and show me the love! Haha, just kidding. But please, review (I really love it!)
Your Obedient Servant,
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