AN: Sorry for taking so long. You know how I was all "oooh, my goal is to finish this by the end of the year"? Well, yeah, that's totally not going to happen at this rate. Sorry, babes!
Now enjoy Chapter 5 of Spiraling!
"I just don't get why you have to drown yourself in makeup. It's Quidditch, not a ball."
I sighed exasperatedly, tilting my hand mirror so I could meet gazes with Emily in it.
"Darling, that's the point," I started sweetly, as if I were talking to a child. "If there's anything James pays attention to, it's Quidditch. I have to look hot when I'm up in the air."
Pausing to close my foundation, I pretended not to notice Emily rolling her eyes at the duh tone of my voice.
"All I'm saying," She groaned, "is that there isn't much of a point. You're just going to sweat it all off, and you can't come whining to me when you have panda eyes."
Having said this, Emily collapsed backwards on her bed, rubbing her face with two hands. She was grumpy this morning; I'd woken her up an hour before so we could get ready to go to the tryouts. She'd stomped over to her clothes and pulled out the worst combination of clothes known to man. I had doubtfully eyed her faded sweater and bright pink shorts, but she insisted she wasn't trying to impress anyone.
"Oh, just quit whining already," I groaned after I'd finished with my lipgloss. "See? I'm done, let's go."
I snapped the mirror shut and stuffed it carelessly into the bag with the rest of my makeup, hopping to my feet all at once. Snatching my broom from the corner near my bed, I was halfway out the door before Emily had caught on.
"Hurry up!" I complained. "Thanks to you, we're going to be late."
She huffed in indignation, but was right on my heel as we descended the staircase.
We arrived at the pitch with just a minute to spare, strolling in at a normal pace. Emily headed for the stands to watch, but I trudged my way over to my teammates.
"Dixie," James sighed as I stopped in front of them. "Didn't I tell you not to be late?"
I frowned, checking my watch with an air of impatience. "It's 8:13. I do believe the posters said we started at 8:15.. correct?"
He gave me a an exasperated look, but turned to the small crowd waiting for their chance to shine.
"Okay," He called, tapping his clipboard and raising his voice. Talking immediately ceased, all attention turning to the captain. "We have room for only 1 chaser, 1 beater, and then the keeper. So if you're looking for any other position, tough luck, because they're all filled."
Accusatory glares turned to us, yet a few people sighed and walked dejectedly away from the pitch.
"Hey!" Somebody called, and a small boy pushed his way through to the front. "This is bogus! Practically all of your team is your family! I call nepitism, and demand justice."
While the boy was clearly in over his head, he was partly true. The Potter-Weasley clan was a large one, but a good chunk of the kids had been sorted into 'd all grown up with Quidditch, though, so it was only natural they try out for the team.
There was Fred Weasley, co-captain and best mate of James; but just like James, he was a phenomenal chaser.
And you'd never expect it from little Lily Potter, but she could send bludgers across the field at brutal speed.
Trey Dorslet (the second beater on the team) wasn't part of the family, but he may as well have been with how much time he spent with them. So with Trey and I the only non-Wotters on team, it was a reasonable concern.
"Oh, shut up!" Lily called from next to me, crossing her arms. "You're not even in second year yet. No firsties allowed, so get lost, kid."
The little boy groaned at being caught, but upon recieving a withering look from Trey, he hurried off the field with a few friends of his.
"Now," James started once again. "In case anyone was wondering after that scene, no my relations are not on my team just because they are my family. These people-" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to point at where we were crowded together behind him, "are the best of the best, and if you can't keep up, you're not on the team."
The hopefuls looked at us with wide eyes, and I winked at a few that were looking particularly nervous.
"With that settled, I need you to split up into groups for the position you want. Chasers over here, Keepers right there.. yes, good. Now, beaters.."
With the large crowd now divided into two, the tryouts began.
"And you guys," James added to us after he'd settled everybody waiting, "Usual warm up. Fred, come with me. I need my co-captain to help me decide a few things."
Fred tossed us a large smirk, smugness written all over his face. He jogged away towards our captain, gracefully avoiding Trey's outstretched foot in the process.
I sighed, laying my trusty broom down in the grass with the rest of the teams and praying it would be left alone.
'Usual warm up' was a phrase we all knew well. 15 minutes of laps around the pitch, 5 minutes with suicides, and finished off with a few easy stretches as a 'cool down' period. It was rather simple, but then again, we did spend most of our time on brooms.
We all started off running in a pack, but quickly diverged in a few minutes.
Alone, I was leading them both; being the seeker meant I had to stay quick and lithe, even on ground. Trey was a few paces behind me, huffing and puffing all the way, while Lily brought up the rear with her leisurely jogging.
I watched the commotion going on above me as I jogged, craning my neck to look at the people zooming by.
Fred and James were standing close together, speaking in low murmers as they surveyed the whole pitch. James nodded and crossed something off the list he had, oblivious to the futive glances I was sending him.
Sunlight lit his messy brown hair and seemed to make his skin glow. He stood hunched forward the tiniest bit, biceps flexing as he balanced the clipboard in one hand and wrote with the other.
God, it should be a crime to be that insanely hot. How does Hogwarts expect us to learn anything with all these gorgeous men wandering around?
He turned his back to me, and I was snapped out of my reverie just in time to turn away from where I had been drifting.
I was fairly sure smashing into the stands and getting a broken nose would not be sexy in James' eyes.
Time passed quickly like it always did whenever it came to Quidditch. My legs were burning with all the suicides I had finished, but it was a burn I embraced.
When the captain called for us to stop, I eased to a halt, wiping my sweaty palms on my shorts before plopping down to the ground. I rolled my shoulders and tossed damp hair out of my face, catching my breath easily.
I did a number of fancy stretches, flipping across the emerald grass lithely and twisting into an upside down bridge.
Lily looked at me disgustedly- more pointedly at the exposed skin of my stomach as my shirt rode up. If she wasn't related so closely to my love, I'd probably bash her head in for staring so rudely.
No doubt she was just jealous of my tan; her freckled, pale face probably cooked like a lobster in the sun.
Let the poor girl envy, I say.
As I slid into a split, I could feel another set of eyes on me. Smirking internally, I did a small victory dance inside my head.
Hell yeah, James. Look at what you're missing out on.
I glanced his way quickly, only to have my heart sink in my chest.
Fred was the one watching me show off, and I could tell as he rose one eyebrow at me that he knew who it had been meant for.
James hadn't been paying attention at all; his attention was focused directly on the girl in front of him. He grinned widely and ran a hand through his hair, oblivious as a young boy fell from his training broom.
That girl is everywhere, I thought to myself moodily, staring at the couple.
Like a freaking fly..If only I could smash her against the wall like she was one.
Abruptly standing up, I abandoned Lily and Trey to grab my broom from where it had been dropped.
Jasmine leaned into James for another stolen kiss as I marched off the field. Emily nearly jumped from the stands to follow me, tagging along at my heels.
"You still had about 10 more minutes until the end," She reminded me as we got farther away, and I scowled.
"Oh, please," I grumbled bitterly. "It's not like he'll even notice I'm missing. All eyes on Jazzy Wazzy when she steps through the door. It's sickening."
Emily's hand caught my arm and spun me around to face her. Her face was serious and (dare I say?) concerned, mouth halfway open in the beginnings of what would probably be some sort of long speech.
However, just as she turned me, her face lit up with delight. She laughed once out loud and let go of me so she could clasp a small hand at her mouth.
I looked down at myself in confusion, uneasy to say she was making me feel self-conscious. "What?"
She said nothing, just looking at me with her large brown eyes full of amusement.
"What do you look so happy about?" I snapped, patience dropping.
Emily shook her head, smile twisted, before pointing to me and giggling.
"You have panda eyes," She informed me smugly. And this time, I was the one struggling to tail after her.
A/N: Ew. The ending is downright horrible, but I'll go back and edit it later. NOW LISTEN UP BECAUSE THIS IS IMPORTANT: Dixie is going to get a lot more bitchy and shallow. As I was reading over this, I realized that while I was trying to write how horrible she is, I kept slipping into my 'normal tone'. Which simply can not be done if I'm trying to write a character like Dixie.
And you may find it strange, but I want you to hate her most of the time. It's all part of how she develops. So she is now going to become a tad more crazy-stalker-girl like seen in other fanfictions. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but I feel it's necessary.
Read and review for me? I know it's a boring chapter, but reviews help me feel more empowered to write the next one!