Enrapture (verb)

- to move to rapture; delight beyond measure.

~*~

The remainder of the school day appeared to pass by in a blur with only a few interactions with Liam, Nolan or Sabrina. I sat huddled beneath a table in the library. The last period was about to begin and I had absolutely no interest in being there because it was Business Class. 


I abhorred that subject almost as much as Steve Rogers disliked profanity. My eyes constantly sagged during that period and I had to pinch myself every five minutes to restrain myself from falling comatose. It didn't help that the teacher's voice was monotonous. 


What made it was worse was that the period before Business was gym class. Freaking gym class! A class filled with running and exercises took place before a period which was worse than Professor Cuthbert Binns' History of Magic class at Hogwarts. And that dude was a ghost. By some miracle, my teacher, Mr Delaney, managed to sound more tiresome than a ghost.


Mondays were the most unfavourable of days but the fact that I could hide out in the library during the last period made it better. My hair was pulled back from my face due to all of the perspiration I produced throughout gym class. I was still attired in my gym clothes, consisting of red shorts and a white t-shirt with the school's mascot on it. 


My backpack was strewn next to me and a Business textbook rested in my lap. Even though I didn't attend Mr Delayney's class, I still made an effort to study. I just believed that I performed better on my own. The white tennis shoes I wore were peeking out from the table that I was burrowed underneath but I didn't find it in myself to mind, too immersed in the topic of Human Resources. 


Suddenly, I was yanked from underneath the table by my foot, gliding on my back until I was looking up at amused brown eyes. I could feel my head spinning due to being dragged out and it took me a moment to process everything that just happened.


"What is your problem?" I snapped, pushing myself into a sitting position so I could glare at the guy they called Liam Finnegan. He crisscrossed his arms over his muscular chest, causing the t-shirt he wore to contract around his form. I surveyed our surroundings, checking to see if anyone was near. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"


Liam stooped down and picked up my discarded textbook before placing it back into my backpack. Once he stood tall with my bag over his shoulder, he raised an accusatory brow. "Aren't you?"


I tutted, reaching to take my backpack from him but he stepped out of the way. "First day and you're already breaking the rules." Scrutinising the smirk on his face, I questioned, "why does it look like you're planning something bad?" I stepped closer again and managed to get my backpack from him.


He dragged a hand through his tousled locks before motioning to the gym bag (a bag I hadn't noticed) which was locked around his left wrist. I crossed my arms in indifference, making it manifest that I had no idea what he was implying. He huffed, coffee-coloured eyes rolling nearly heavenward and back. "We're gonna go play soccer."


"Excuse me?" I laughed, feeling paranoia creep up on me so I scanned our surroundings once again. The look on his face was solemn and I queried what was going through that head of his.

He started leading towards the doorway of the library and I grimaced, quickly hastening after him. The door sealed unobtrusively behind us as I pursued him, trying my best to keep up with his long strides.

"Liam!" I hissed, seizing his wrist but he didn't stop and instead tugged me along with him.


"C'mon, Blondie," he implored in a humorous tone as he accelerated through the rear doors, the vast field welcoming us. The sun seemed more luminescent than usual and it caused his chocolate curls to glint beneath it. He returned to me with a smile, still luring me onto the soccer field. "You don't wanna play?" A sly smirk hauled at his lips and I crimsoned.


I tugged my hand out of his grip as he paused next to a metal bench, depositing his bag down onto it. "You have an entire team to play soccer with you, Liam. Why me?" Hiking my bag further up my shoulder, I fidgeted with the edge of my t-shirt as Liam observed me with a tender look in his eyes. "What?" I asked after the silence became too much, averting my gaze to the clipped grass. 


"I do have an entire team," he acknowledged with a nod, his soft gaze resolute as he unzipped the bag and took out a soccer ball. It looked brand-new and he cast it from hand to hand. "But something tells me that you're the only one passionate about it enough to skip class and play."


A shiver ran down my spine at the words he just uttered and I found myself incapable of accepting the fact that Liam was so perceptive. He discerned everything and I would wager big bucks that the only reason he knew I was passionate about soccer was because of the way I was eying the uniform in the kitchen. There were anxiety and yearning in my eyes and I was a dope to speculate that he wouldn't pick up on that. 


"I was already skipping class," I alerted him, pointing out that he located me in the library. He acknowledged my response. Fear was a methodical thing for me at school, always feeling like I was going to get admonished. Peeping around again, I sighed in relief because it was only Liam and me.


He marked the trepidation in my eyes and inquired, "what are you so afraid of?" The softness in his character startled me because he seemed genuinely concerned. My mouth was sealed shut and he stopped tossing the ball, pressing it to his hip as he gazed at me. "Is this about the cliques? Because I read through the rules during my free period and it sounds dumb."


"Liam," I sighed, resorting to fretting with my t-shirt again. "It's your first day here. You have no idea what it's like -"


"Then tell me," he interrupted, moving closer with a sincere eloquence. "Tell me."


With a humourless laugh, I gesticulated towards the building behind me. "Welcome to Lakeside High. Where your every move will be judged, your academic skills, athletic skills, your clothes, your looks - every single thing will be scrutinised." I sent him a forced grin and he grimaced. "Enjoy your stay."


Liam jeered, rolling his eyes as he urged, "you're telling me that you'll get hated on for playing a sport you love?"


My eyes bugged out of their sockets. "That's what you got from that?" It was as if he wasn't even paying attention to what I just said. 


"You have a fire within you, Blondie," he affirmed determinedly, beginning to advance closer and I shuddered. His glowing gaze bore into my eyes, the profound swirls of coffee intertwining with the gold at the edges of his iris. "Are you really gonna let this school extinguish it?"


He was aiming to aggravate me and it was working. The asshole knew that it was working too. Everybody with eyes could see how much I wanted to join the soccer team but I couldn't - not if didn't want Jillian to make my senior year a living hell. "That's not what we're talking about."


"Really?" he ridiculed, running a frustrated hand over his face. "Because I thought we were talking about the fact that you're living up to your stereotype."


My jaw plummeted and I envisioned myself frantically trying to pull it up from the ground. Liam Finnegan had known me for an entirety of three weeks, interacted with me on only five of those days and yet he succeeded to figure out my contradictive fear. I was terrified of going against my stereotype yet at the same time - I was terrified of being exactly that, my stereotype. The popular blonde cheerleader who had her life together. 


He marched closer again, winding an arm around my waist and tugging me against him so that he could sink down and whisper, "when they try to label you as the dumb cheerleader, pick up a soccer ball and show them who you really are." A soundless gasp left me as I peered up at him through my lashes, noticing his features contorted into one of determination. "Break that stereotype. I dare you."


I snarled, feeling similar determination emerge from within me. He just had to pull the dare card and judging by the smirk on his face, he understood what he was doing. I shoved his chest and jumped out of his hold. "You asked for it, Finnegan."


"I did," he chuckled, steadying himself after my push. "And I'm waiting for it, Blondie." He watched as I sauntered over to his gym bag and began ransacking through it. I threw my backpack onto the ground before tugging at the hem of my t-shirt and pulling it over my head, leaving me in a black sports bra. "Blondie!" His voice cracked as he gawked at me and I smirked internally, feeling his gaze roam over me.


"I can't play in this tight shirt," I stated as I pulled his soccer jersey from his bag and pulled it over my body, the hem reaching just above my knees. It was fortunate that no one else was around because it honestly looked like I wasn't even wearing pants. The red material hung loosely around my frame and I knew Liam was staring at his last name which was imprinted on the back. 


Liam whistled. "Wow. I could get used to this." He let his eyes drift across my figure once more as I marched back over to him, crossing my arms with raised brows. "Player Position?"


"Defending midfielder," I answered without missing a beat, snatching the soccer ball from his hold.


He nodded to himself with an amused grin. "Like father like daughter, I see." Pacing in a circle, he added, "so you know you're supposed to intercept the ball right? You should be good at tackling -"


"Are you stupid or just stupid?" I intervened, glimpsing at my nails with a bored look in my eyes. He looked up at me in embarrassment before it melted into understanding. "I'm the daughter of Gregory James. Don't you think I know how to play a position he's famous for?"


Liam let out a booming laugh which surprised me. His eyes were glinting in the sunlight and I decided that I liked carefree Liam. "Bring it on, Blondie." I tossed him the ball and he began running towards the goalpost, expertly handling the ball with his feet. 


He was a proficient attacker and I knew that, having witnessed it first hand. And right now he was headed towards a goalpost I was supposed to be defending. I ran to the middle of the field where I was supposed to be located, engaging him head-on. I smirked turning my body at an angle so that I could drive him into a precise location. Remembering that Liam was right-footed, I advanced from his right side, leaving him to dribble with his weaker foot. 


"Fuck," he blasphemed as he nearly tripped over the ball and I contained a giggle, remaining adjacent to his right side at the equivalent speed he was travelling. I began hassling him for the ball to the point where he nearly lost balance.

Deliberately, I favoured all my weight backwards. Placing my right foot in front of where Liam was dribbling, I swept the ball from underneath him and watched as he plunged to the ground tripping over the ball and his own feet. 


"Hah!" I hollered, dribbling the ball as I made my way to the goalpost. Liam remained on the grass and regarded me with a smile. My lungs began burning but I didn't stop until I reached the goalpost and kicked, watching in delight as the ball hit the net. 


Slow clapping was heard from behind me and I turned to see Liam making his way over, grass stains on his shorts. "Well done, Blondie," he applauded, halting beside me as I panted profoundly. He wrapped a muscular arm around my shoulder and pulled me in for a brief hug. "I had no idea you could tackle like that."


I heaved in another breath as I pulled away and began fanning myself. "Thanks," I spoke between breaths and he grinned at my struggle. He walked us over to his bag and handed me a bottle of water which I gulped down. "That was fun," I smiled, placing his bottle back onto the bench.


My happiness didn't persist long, however, because in the distance I could see Jillian and Mattia leaning against the beams supporting the door. Her dark skin glowed in the sunlight and I couldn't even begin to visualise how I must've looked at that moment. She glared at me as she caught my gaze and I trembled. 


"Blondie?" Liam sought after he used a towel to wipe at his face. He took note of my expression and frowned but I disregarded him. I was too focused on Jillian who commanded Matiia to write something down. The knowledge of them snitching to the principal made me squirm. I was not supposed to be playing soccer. "Blondie?"


"I have to go," I murmured, reaching for my backpack. Liam looked to where I was staring and scowled. He shifted to face me again and clutched hold of my arm to hinder me from leaving.

Jillian glared at me one last time before she entered the school alongside Mattia. I could feel my chest begin to contract and I willed myself to breathe properly. Staying in your clique was a legitimate school rule and I just broke it. 


Liam turned my face and cupped my jaw, completely unconcerned about my sweating face. "Hey," he murmured, sensing that I was panicking and tried to calm me down. "Look at me." But it didn't work. I was freaking out. "Tell me a secret," he said abruptly and my panic momentarily stopped. 


"What?" I mumbled in confusion, feeling my shoulders begin to sag with weariness. 


He smiled at the fact that he got my attention. "Tell me a secret," he reiterated. "Something that no one else knows about you or something nobody felt the need to ask about before."


I looked at him in alarm but he grinned, motioning for me to say something. It was a ploy to mislead me from Jillian and honestly, it was working. "I hate cats." He seemed startled at that, presumably anticipating something else. "They're like tiny tigers. It scares me," I sputtered. 


Liam nodded in acknowledgement and rubbed my shoulder. "Better now?" I smiled, apprehending what he did. "Telling someone a secret takes a lot out of you. It demands all of your attention because you're wondering whether you can trust them or not. It seemed like you needed a distraction."


My heart swelled with gratitude and I launched my arms around his torso in a hug, feeling his arms encircle my waist. "Thanks, Liam."


"Anytime, Blondie," he winked as I stepped out of his embrace and we descended onto the bench to catch our breaths. I grinned as he ran a hand through his hair. I didn't even want to touch mine because I knew that once I'd loosen it, it would be a tangled mess. "You should let Jillian know that you understand what she wants you to be," he spoke suddenly, just as I began to savour the silence.


"And then?" I whispered, shifting on the bench to face him whilst playing with the hem of his jersey I wore.


A devious look passed his features again as he said, "and then show her who you actually are." I analysed his words, wondering if he meant what I thought he did - going against Jillian and her rules. He must've known that I was overthinking because he urged, "up for an actual game?"


He held his hand out to me as if asking for a dance and I stared at it. Except, this was a different dance. With a bashful smile, I placed my hand in his and allowed him to pull me to my feet. I was taken back to the night we met when he had to haul my drunk ass up from the ground.

Liam smirked as he dragged me in the direction where we left the ball. I laughed as we passed the ball to one another and watched as he fell onto his ass, wishing that it could be like that every day. I no longer wanted to be confined to my stereotype. Without a doubt, I knew that Liam Finnegan was the first step to climbing out of the box Jillian Rooney placed me in.