MasterCard Theory

.o2. Striptease Kisses

Kayla, Greg Pollock and I sat in the middle of the bleachers, looking across the soccer field. Following my brother's wishes, the three of us came to support him at the season opening game. I didn't know why though; Blain knew that we always came to every single one of the varsity games.

I scanned the players, quickly spotting Blaine, Conner and Travis stretching in one of the corners. My brother was smiling widely at something Conner had just said as Travis looked ready to attack the two of them.

Sometimes, I wondered why I was unable to get along with one of my brother's best friends (namely Conner). Everyone in our grade seemed so fond of him and generally enjoyed having civil conversations with him. Adding to his overall popularity, he had a family of friends that consisted of the entire varsity soccer team which only contributed to the quality of 'brotherliness' that the girls seemed to fawn over.

For some reason, I just never saw it. From day one, he had treated me like I was the plague. Our 'friendship' just seemed to snowball from there. Even Gregg was a pretty good friend of Conner's as well, meeting through an outside traveling soccer league.

Now with our new 'relationship', I knew my best friends would become somewhat suspicious. They knew how horrifyingly we clashed; they knew how much we couldn't stand being in the same vicinity as each other. Suddenly dating would probably trigger some wariness.

I was brought out of though by the sudden chanting of our home crowd. Cries of "Let's go Summit!", "Flannery!" and "Weston sucks!" (our opponent for today) rang out in the air.

Glancing towards the field again, I realized that the game had already long started as Conner headed down the sideline, dribbling the ball. Faking a right, he spun around his defender before passing it to David Holland, who immediately scored a quick shot in the upper right.

I began screaming with the crowd as David began to do a celebratory dance down the field with Conner. Needless to say, the two of them looked like a pair of fools.

David was one of my top four favorite players on the Summit High School varsity team. He was only a junior, but he had skills that could definitely rival those of Conner. Even Conner had admitted that David had lost by only one point in a twenty minute one-on-one match against him.

To top it off, he was nowhere nearly as cocky as Conner was (off the field). That was exactly why David was on the hot road to replacing Conner Flannery as the Alpha Male by the time he became a senior.

"Yo, I kind of feel bad for the other team." Kayla shouted at me, gesturing towards the exasperated Weston players. "In the first three minutes, we scored a really easy goal. They're not so bad of a team, either. If Blaine wasn't lying, they were second in districts last year."

Still, second in the district wasn't enough to beat us. The soccer team was known for being pushed far more than any other team in this state. Coach Wood, the head coach, had actually instructed the United States Olympic team back in the early nineties and led them to the World Cup as well.

However due to family problems, he gave up his job and returned to Summit a hero. But immediately, he accepted the coaching job here and has since led the varsity to victory every year since 2000.

So in the long run, it was definitely worth it.

"Why would you feel bad for them?" Gregg retorted. "Just because we're good doesn't mean we should be sympathetic to the other teams all the time. Plus, I've played with some of the guys from Weston; jackasses, most of them."

I rolled my eyes at him, shoving him playfully just as Blaine caught the ball heading straight at his stomach. I let out a quick 'whoop' before turning back to Gregg. "No need to act all macho just because you're not out there fighting Weston."

"I told you." Gregg said, not focusing his eyes on me. "I don't want to play on the school team. The outside league is good enough for me, and being captains with Conner there is just the same."

I scoffed, but said nothing more. Gregg absolutely refused to try out for the varsity team here. The thing was he could easily kick out some of the veteran players; however, he adamantly refused to do so. He moved here last year, the year after Blaine and I arrived, and showed up to try outs for the team. Gregg had told me that Conner had enthusiastically talked about the chemistry and unspoken cooperation between the members of the team. When Gregg showed up for a spot, he claimed he was able to smell that teamwork from a mile away and immediately walked away.

Even so, Conner convinced Gregg to show up at their practices every once in a while when someone was sick. He would just practice with them, honing his skills and learning from a professional while helping some of the less capable players on junior varsity and freshman squad.

I turned my attention back to the game, quickly looking at the scoreboard. Somehow, the score had been updated to two-nothing during another one of my infamous reveries. I really had to focus here. A member of the Weston team was running down the center of the field, quickly dodging the ever sluggish Charles Hammond. How he ever became captain, I had no idea.

A series of boos echoed loudly as the only thing standing between the opponent and a goal was Blaine. I saw that fire-like glare in his eyes that I had grown so accustomed to as he came closer. Suddenly, from my right…"McKnight, you suck!" I heard Gregg shout out.

The player I now knew as McKnight glanced up at that moment, but quickly realized what was actually more important at that second. Getting as close as he could possibly get, 'McKnight' kicked the ball, only to have it sail high over the goal.

Cheers rang out through our side, followed by hisses from the Weston bleachers. I saw Gregg grinning as people thumped his back, congratulating him for the major distraction. He must have noticed the look of disbelief on both my and Kayla's face, for he merely shrugged. "What?" he said, nonchalantly. "The guy had it coming. He rips on your brother all the time, just because Conner was ranting about how Hammond had beat out Blaine for the captaincy. Ever since then, he talks shit about Blaine, saying how he couldn't play worth shit. So, karma." He ended bluntly.

Number one on list of priorities now. Kick McKnight's ass.

"Is McKnight actually any good?" I asked, as I watched him sullenly walk off the field. The Weston coach immediately approached him, waving his arms crazily and scolding him, probably for actually paying attention to our verbal attacks.

"Dominic McKnight?" Gregg scoffed. "He thinks he's hot shit just because he's the number one scorer in their district. Conner's number one in the state, and from what I know, McKnight's never scored on Blaine in the past three years."

"Can I kill him later?" I asked. "Maybe after the game?"

"Be my guest." Gregg laughed. "He's number three, by the way, so you don't end up murdering the wrong person. Of course before you get the blood of the enemy on your hands, you should probably talk with Conner first."

At the mentioning of his name, a small glint of mockery shone in his eyes. I glared suspiciously at him. Did he know something I didn't know about what was soon to develop? Worse… had Gregg actually encouraged Conner to go through with the plan despite Gregg's knowledge of how much we just didn't get along?

Wordlessly, Gregg began nodding, a sly smile slipping on his face. That stupid bastard…

"Oh no, you did not!" I screeched, shoving a finger up against his chest. "No, no, no. You were at that practice that day, weren't you?"

Gregg didn't even have to respond to my question. The gigantic grin on his face gave away everything as he fought the urge to break into laughter. Traitor!

Kayla cast us both a look, but brushed it off, thinking it was probably another one of our friendly debates over everything life-related. I turned towards Gregg again, tilting my head in her direction, silently asking if she knew about the situation as well.

Based on the laughter in his eyes, I took it as a yes.

"You know too?" I screeched, slapping Kayla upside the head.

"What? What do I know?" she whined, rubbing the sore spot. "Gregg, what did you say? It's all your fault!"

"You know about the deal?" My voice dropped down to a whisper, as the crowd burst into cheers. Another goal for Summit.

"Oooohhhh." Kayla smiled, nodding her head. "That deal. Of course I know about it. The varsity soccer team is in on it, as are Greg and I. I have to say, very daring of you. I never expected you to step up to the plate and face Conner."

So much for thinking my friends would actually care about this.

"You guys both suck ass." I retorted, crossing my arms. "I have no real friends."

In response, Gregg and Kayla both burst into laughter as their attention slowly turned back to the game. Bluntly put, it kind of bothered me how the two of them knew about this whole situation but never brought it up. What was worse was the fact that Gregg had actually okay-ed some of the scenarios, as did Blaine.

Who was there left I could trust?

The whistle suddenly blew, indicating the end of the first half. The score was largely in favor of Summit High School, an astounding four nothing lead, half of the goals I never even noticed. It was basically pointless to continue playing for it was obvious Conner, Travis and David were not ready to give up the game. Sure, Blaine could slip and let a goal, but Weston couldn't recover.

The players jogged off the field, our side welcoming them with a giant roar of approval. Names of our star players were being thrown all over the place as they gladly accepted the congratulations. Vastly different, Weston was not greeted with a warm applause, but with somber looks. They were a team with a pretty good reputation which was pretty much being destroyed by the number one in the state.

Seems like they had high hopes.

"I'll be right back; I'm going to buy something. You want anything?" I asked Kayla and Gregg, both of whom immediately thrust money in my face. "Alright, so I suppose that's everything in the stand."

"Pretzel."

"Candy."

"Oh, and a soda, would you?"

"Cheese fries too!"

"No, not cheese fries. Hot dogs."

"I want cheese fries, shut up Gregg. Hot dogs are made of stuff we don't normally talk about, you sure you want it?"

"Okay, shut up both you." I groaned, bounding down the bleachers. "I'll get you whatever you guys want."

I made my way through the hordes of people walking to the bathroom and across the field, eventually reaching the concession stand that was located behind enemy lines. Our school was kind and actually believed practicing hospitality was necessary. To make it convenient for adversaries, the food was placed on their side of the field.

Damn them.

I stood in the line behind a group of guys most likely from the Weston side since they seemed extremely unfamiliar. "Number nine's actually got some skills. Did you see the way he made that kick all the way from midfield?"

Number nine? Who was- oh right. Conner.

I calmly listened in on their conversation, hearing bits and pieces of the compliments they were giving to our players. It was nice though; at least some people were not so into sports that they slammed other people just because they were better than themselves.

"You know who's not so good though? That defender who's also the captain." The same guy said, laughing as the rest murmured in agreement. "Dom's moving around him so easily, I wonder why that guy's a captain."

"Because he's been playing four years." The words slipped out before I could stop myself. Covering my mouth, I prayed they wouldn't hear me. I despised inserting myself into strangers' conversations, because it showed that I was eavesdropping on their discussion.

One of the guys turned around and only then did I realize they were not a member of Weston High School. The black shirt reading Newport Academy Varsity Soccer in green letters immediately flashed a red light in my mind.

I was fraternizing with the enemy.

Newport Academy was second in the state every year for the past eight years, only because of Summit's sudden rise to fame with Coach Wood. Guess what place they had been before we arrived? That's right, first. We always scraped by with a narrow victory, usually pulling away from a tight game in the finals by half time. For example, last year we had been losing by two points until miracles happened and Newport began making errors that amateur teams never made (i.e. passing to the wrong team).

The guy cocked an eyebrow, looking down at me. "The number of years on the team is the most important criteria for being captain? If I was your team's coach, I'd put number eleven or your goalie as the captain."

David Holland or Blaine. Right, like whoever doubted that?

"The goalie's actually my brother. We moved here sophomore year so Charles Hammond, the defender, has a year of 'experience' on the team that my brother never had. So, naturally, Hammond gets it." I shrugged. "And number eleven's a junior, so he'll definitely be captain next year."

"Uh-huh. So you're the sister of the goalie. Interesting." By now, the entire group of guys had turned around to face me. Had I not noticed the matching shirts? Even from the back, the menacing blanket of black obstructed my view. Oblivion seems to be my greatest quality.

"Yeah?" I scratched my head, not exactly sure where the conversation was heading.

"Ben, you're talking with public enemy of the state number one- the groupie. She'll tear you into shreds."

Whoa, back track. Groupie?

"Did you just call me a groupie?" I asked, as the group seemed to disperse to reveal the offender. "Because for your information, I am anything but a groupie. Those girls who are sitting in the bleachers showing up only to see the traditional striptease are the groupies. I show up to support my twin brother and his best friends, so don't you fucking dare put me in that category."

"Um, Alex?" The voice came from behind the group of guys now staring at me like I had three heads. I peered around them to see Marcus Benson motioning me to come forward. "They don't seem to be moving, so you can come up?"

Nodding, I cast the group of guys one last glare, namely the idiot who had just called me a groupie. On my death list? McKnight and that guy.

I quickly ordered, refusing to turn around to face the group that was probably realizing how much of a bitch I actually was. "Newport? Nine fifty, by the way." He quickly added as a handed him the cash.

"Yeah." I bitterly responded. "One of them actually had the nerve to call me a groupie. For crying out loud, I actually know how soccer is played. That automatically takes me out of that category!"

Marcus laughed, shaking his head. "They're idiots, it's obvious. They're just rats for not taking an eight year loss very well."

I smiled, grabbing the money from his hand. Marcus and I had never been close friends, just close friends from having Physics Honors together last marking period. We never really spoke outside of class since we hung out with two completely different groups of people. Nonetheless, the few conversations we had always managed to brighten my day.

"I know. Well, it was nice talking to you again. I'll see you sometime in school." With a small wave, I parted, making sure to glare menacingly at the previous offender. I walked past the group, relaxing only when I was a safe distance away.

"Hold on!" I continued to push on, refusing to acknowledge whichever buffoon dared to stop me. Someone tapped my shoulder as I spun around, a dirty look plastered on my face. "Whoa, chill." My expression softened a little when I realized it was the first guy I had spoken with standing behind me. "I just wanted to apologize for my friend. Luke's kind of a bitter person who can't handle competition well. I'm Ben, by the way. Ben Laker."

At least this guy was decently friendly. "Alex North. I'd shake your hand, but my arms are kind of full since all my friends are pigs." Right, Gregg and Kayla. They're probably starving. "Speaking of which, they're probably ridiculously hungry and complaining, so I should probably head back. Maybe I'll see you at some other game." I shrugged, smiling at the same time.

"No doubt about it." He grinned and ran back to his friends.

I turned again, shaking my head as I laughed. Guys… they were all idiots.

--

Needless to say, we crushed our opponents. The final score had been eight to two, both goals not scored by McKnight. In fact, every shot he attempted had been deflected or caught by Blaine. Who's the better player now?

"We will, we will rock you!" The crowd began chanting, as our team ran around, chest bumping and pounding fists with their teammates. Of course being the good captains they were, Conner, Travis and Charles had walked over to enemy sides to congratulate Weston on a good game.

But the moment they came closer to us, the three of them took of their uniforms, spinning them above their heads. The rest of the varsity followed suit, as Coach Wood merely stood at the sideline, laughing in disbelief. The 'striptease' was actually a tradition made by Coach Wood himself. In 2000 after Summit's first state championship win, Coach had actually taken off his windbreaker (not his shirt!) and twirled it above his head in a celebratory cheer.

The varsity team from then on used that one moment as the basis of a new tradition. After every season opener game (whether it be a win or a loss), they would spin their uniform shirts to take a jab at Wood. It was also because of that, that most girls who never watched soccer came to the season opener.

"Inspecting his abs?" The statement came from an overly enthusiastic Kayla, who was watching carefully for my reaction. So it was true; Conner had a body that came hand in hand with his intense soccer training. Many guys would kill for a build like his, but just never said it aloud in fear of having their sexuality questioned.

"Shut up." I retorted, blushing as I looked away. Seriously, my twin brother was there too. Did I want to see that? No!

Suddenly, I heard a loud cheer run through the audience as everyone seemed to shift to the side. Bewildered, I looked around and sure enough, the crowd was parting a bit to let someone through. I heard Gregg let out a 'whoop!' as a certain dark haired guy headed in my direction.

Before I knew it, Conner Flannery, in all his sweaty, shirtless glory, stood before me. A grin sat on his face as he smiled down at me. "You liked the game?" he asked, wiping his hair out of his line of vision.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "You know I come to all the games, and it's not just to see you strip, you loser. I cheer on my dear brother as well. Oh, and Travis." I said, waving down at the sweeper who was trying to catch my attention.

"Oh, you party pooper. I thought you came only to see this." Conner laughed, indicating at his naked torso. Unwillingly, I let my eyes follow his hands, liking what I was currently seeing. He was fit, ridiculously fit to the point where not a single inch of skin hung loose. It was people like him I was jealous of, people who were blessed with good bodies and genes.

Of course, in the North case, Blaine got the good end of the deal.

Conner merely grinned, taking a step closer to me. Before I could even react, his hands grasped my elbows, pulling me towards his body. Whistles and cheers rang through the air as some spectators stayed behind to watch the new show.

"Um, Conner?" I asked nervously, looking around. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Hey." He said, bringing his face closer to mine. "Don't question my motives. There was actually one thing I forgot to mention that went along with Blaine's conditions."

Oh God. This could not be good.

"Do I want to know what goes on in my brother's sick twisted mind?"

"No actually, I said that wrong. Gregg's amendments to Blaine's conditions. You might want to kill him later for what I'm about to do."

What?

I went to glare at Gregg, who I knew was standing behind Conner a mere foot away. I never got the chance to move though. Conner immediately pulled me flush against him, the heat from his body causing warmth beneath my skin. I blushed at the sudden contact, though disregarding it when I realized it was Conner doing this. This was the Conner that had forever made my life a living hell; the Conner that was making me pay him three hundred dollars in dates.

Wait.

Oh shit.

I didn't get the opportunity to protest. In fact, I didn't even have the time to scream words of hatred at Gregg Pollock, my supposed best friend. The entire soccer team erupted into cheers at the scene unfolding before Summit High School's very eyes.

Conner Flannery was kissing me, Alexandra North. His lips moved softly against mine, begging me to play along with the act. I sighed, not really sure if it was from the kiss itself but from reluctance. Nonetheless I knew at that moment that there was no backing out anymore.

The deal was sealed.

Author's Note:

Oh my God. So shoot me. It took me so long to actually find time to sit down and write. I actually had another version of chapter two ready to go, but I hated that one. So I scrapped it and developed this in one sitting. The grammar may not be top-notch because of my hurry to post this up (you know why). I am ridiculously sorry for the HUGE wait for this next part. Crap, it's been almost seven months. Six and a half months, I'd say.

After writing this part, I'm excited for the rest of this story so the updates should be fast. Unfortunately, Like Father, Like Son is going through a road bump right now that is extraordinarily difficult to overcome. In the meantime, I've been spewing out one-shots to make up for it. I'm actually debating about putting out a LFLS one shot, so watch for it.

I'm sorry. The school year is finally winding down since I just took my last SATs on Saturday. I did poorly the first time, so I'm hoping this is my last time taking them. Sighs.

I'm sorry for the wait, and I hope this chapter was up to par. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review! Thanks! And I don't have time right now, since I have to finish my homework, but thank you ALL for reviewing for the first chapter! I'm gonna reply by the way, by way of message. There's no way I can finish them in time. Thanks!

Posted by MadforFigs on June 9, 2008