"If you don't top kicking that thing around, I will come over there and deflate it with the heel of my shoe!"

My best friend's voice cut through my concentration and I tripped over the ball as it rolled under my feet and landed on the blacktop.

"Kacey! You are so dead!" I hissed through my teeth, glancing up at my best friend.

Even when I was standing up she was quite a bit taller than me. She had been given the gift of extremely long and beautiful legs. Not that she cared. She cared more about her obsession with eighties hair bands than anything else.

Now, as I stared up at her, I could see red starting to tint her cheeks. I couldn't tell if it was out of anger or because she was trying to hold back her laughter.

"I've been trying to get your attention for the last hour, Quinn. It's not my fault that you lost your train of thought and fell." I outstretched my arm, waiting for her to help me up. My eyes darted from her dark red lips to her bright green eyes that were staring down at my in amusement. Finally she took my hand and pulled me up, rolling her eyes.

"The only reason I lost my train of thought is because you were screeching like a pterodactyl." I growled, "What do you need, Kace?" She let out a long sigh before staring down at her perfectly manicured finger nails.

"I was hoping I could actually talk to my best friend about boys, but by the looks of things you care more about being the long lost child of David Beckham then your own best friend." She snapped, shaking her head so her wavy blonde locks fell into her eyes.

I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest, trying not to feel guilty.

I loved Kacey, she had been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We went through everything together. From getting bullied in fifth grade to getting our first dates in seventh, we were always by each others sides, helping each other out.

But sometimes, I had to admit that she got on my nerves when she would nag me about soccer or whatever the seasonal sport was here at Carter High.

"How the hell are you and Max Duncan not together? You two are like the masters of soccer here." She had asked me once. I had laughed it off and had been a little disgusted by the thought.

If she had said any other guy I would have been happy to go up and try to talk to him, to spark up a conversation about some sport. When it came to Max, I didn't even want to say his name aloud.

He was obnoxious, conceited, egotistical, and used girls and threw them away like they were nothing but toys that he got bored with. He never smiled, not unless it was to try to get into a girls bed. He never talked to anyone unless it was to put them down. And, he absolutely despised girls that tried to play soccer.

"It's disgusting that they think they can play as good as we can. They should just stick to making sure their hair and make-up are perfect." I had once heard him say, loud and clear because he knew I was standing in the hall. It took everything in me not to attack him and yell at him and just walk away.

But that was Max before the accident two weeks ago. That was the Max that didn't have to be pushed around everywhere in a wheelchair. The Max that still had "friends" by his side.

"Quinn!" Kacey whined, taking my face into her hands. "Can you listen to me for a second?" I nodded, pushing all of my previous thoughts aside and staring into my best friends eyes, giving her my full attention.

"Okay, great!" She clapped, a grin stretching across his face.

"So you remember Denny from Physics, right?" She asked, making a gesture with her hand.

"Yeah." I replied.

"Well, I was talking-okay flirting-with him in class and he offered to take me to the Bon Jovi concert in three weeks. He said his dad has connections! Can you believe it?" She started dancing around, grinning like a fool. I crossed my arms back over my chest and watched her in amusement.

My best friend had to be the biggest Bon Jovi fan. She would do anything to see him in concert. Even sleep with some guy he barely knows and let him spread all kinds of nasty rumors about her.

"That's great, Kace." I finally responded once she stopped moving around. She wiggled her finger in my face, her green eyes lit with happiness.

"I'm not done. He said he could get you and your new boytoy tickets too. You'll come, right?" I smiled sheepishly, getting ready to tell her I couldn't. Before I could get the chance she slapped her hand over my mouth and shook her head.

"If you feed me the "I need to study" bullshit I will drag you to the concert by your ear. Are we clear?" I stared at her, trying to deceiver whether she was kidding or not. By the look in her eyes I was pretty sure she wasn't.

"Yeah, sure. I'll go. But I will be riding solo on this one." I mumbled, looking down at the ground.

This wasn't the first time Kacey forced me to bring some guy to a concert with us. She had this belief that I would hit it off with him and he would live happily ever after. It never happened. Every guy would end up getting drunk and handsy or would go find another girl because I didn't want to sleep with him. The only boyfriend that has lasted is my boyfriend now, Jayden Diaz. We had met in the VIP section of a Gun 'N Roses concert last year.

"Before you say anything about Jay being pissed or jealous, I already called and asked him if he wanted to come. He said he couldn't make it and he would be fine with you taking someone else." I gave Kacey a skeptical look. Jayden wasn't really a free spirit that was okay with open relationships. He was actually really possessive and got jealous a lot. He wouldn't ever agree to let me go to a concert with some random guy. . . would he?

"Okay, so maybe I didn't talk to him. Ugh! Can you just say something, Quinn? I am losing my patience here!" I waited for her to stop snapping before picking my soccer ball off the ground and giving her a sad smile.

"I'll see if Jayden wants to go, Kace. If he doesn't I'd be glad to go with you guys alone. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" She nodded at my words, a smile resurfacing on her own face. She started to walk away, but stopped when I yelled after her.

"Your bra strap is showing!" I shouted obnoxiously loud with a laugh. She flipped me off over her shoulder, leaving me to watch after her with a smile on my face. A smile that would probably fade the minute I stepped into my house.

     ***

"How was school, honey?" I glanced sideways at my dad, the food on my fork halfway to my open mouth. I slowly lowered it and stared in confusion across the table.

He never asked me questions about school, never seemed to really care. That was my mom's job in his eyes, so it was a little strange to hear him asking about it.

"It was fine. The most interesting part of my day was tripping over my soccer ball." I joked, cracking a smile. I could see my brother roll his dark blue eyes out of the corner of my eyes. My parents smiled, nodding.

"That's great. Quin. . ." The fork fell from my hand at the tone that had begun to creep into my mom's voice. It was her I need you to do something that you would like voice.

"Mom." I answered, staring at her. She stared at me for a long second before she sighed. I already knew what was coming before she said it, but it still felt like a punch in the stomach.

"I was talking to Margaret yesterday. She said that Max has been locking himself in his room."

"And this is my problem how?" I growled, then blinked in surprise. Why the hell was I taking my anger out on my mom?

"Sweetheart, we thought it would be a good idea for you to go and try to talk to him. Let him know that you're still there for him. He lost his girlfriend on Monday, you know. And his friends. . . they've all disappeared." She said, her eyes holding a sadness in them that made my heart clench. Not for Max, for my mom and Mrs. Duncan.

"That isn't my problem, Mom. I've never been his friend. He's treated me like shi. . ."

"That's exactly why you should be the bigger person and step up to be his friend, sweetheart. I know he wasn't a very nice boy, but he's been through a lot and he needs someone." My mom snarled, cutting me off. My dad nodded in agreement, narrowing his eyes at me.

"She's right, Quinn, honey. Maxwell needs you right now, even if he doesn't know it. Go over there tomorrow and talk to him." I shook my head and stood up, my knee slamming against the table so hard that all the plates and cups moved.

"Why me? Why can't you send Austin or someone else over there? He's an asshole, Mom! He thinks I can't play soccer and. . ."

"He's right, Quinn! You're seventeen year old girl!" My mom yelled, "You should be on the cheerleading squad, or going to the mall with Kacey. Instead you spend your days getting dirty and playing with whatever sports equipment you can find." I opened my mouth to protest but she cut me off before I could say anything.

"If you want to be selfish, then be selfish. Just know that if you don't go talk to Max tomorrow that I will take away everything. Your equipment, your signed posters, your phone. Everything. Being selfish won't get you anywhere in life, Quinn. Now go to your room." She was screaming by the time she finished, tears threatening to escape her eyes. I could see my dad grabbing her hand, probably trying to calm her down, and Austin stared at me with wide eyes.

"Mom. . ." I started to say, but she held her hand up and shook her head.

"Don't speak to me until you learn how to be selfless instead of selfish. I can't deal with your petty problems, Quinn. If you think they are bad then you have no chance of making it in the real world." I started to back away, my own eyes burning.

"This isn't fair!" I snapped. My mom looked directly in my eyes and said something that made my whole body deflate and fill with guilt.

"No, what isn't fair is that poor child never being able to walk again! The poor boy who had a great career ahead of him that can't even kick a ball. That isn't fair, Quinn. Think about how you would feel if you couldn't play, if you couldn't run or talk to people without them staring at you. Think about it and come back to me when you realize that you are being really selfish." She was crying now, tears starting to stream down her cheeks. I knew that what she was saying was personal. That something must have happened to her when she was a child.

I finally tore my eyes away from the rest of my family and walked down the hall to my bedroom, shutting the door gently behind me before my mom could see how guilty I looked. After a moment of silence I lifted my head and stared at the signed poster of David Beckham on my wall, a stray tear slowly rolling down my cheek. My mom was right, Max wouldn't ever be able to play again. And for the first time in my life, I felt horrible for the asshole kid next door. Because I know if I couldn't play I would slowly go insane, so I could only imagine what would happen to someone that already was.

***AN***

Hope you enjoyed! This chapter was just introducing everyone.

I promise the next will be better!

Let me know what you thought!

~ChasingMadness24