A/N: So, I hope y'all enjoy this. I really liked writing it. I know there isn't a whole lot of detail, but the dialogue is really the most important part of the story. Please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think of it. Oh, and it's a sequel of sorts to my other story, "You Could Throw A Rock".

WARNING: This involves a sort of stereotype, that I kind of made up. Except for the tall part, all soccer players seem to be tall.

"Soccer Players Too"

So, I had a sick problem. Anyone who knew me knew this, and seriously, anyone. Anyone who has ever gone on a date with me knows that I've got something messed up in my mind.

"So who's your date tonight, Rosie Rose?" My little sister Sam asked, watching me smooth out my dress. Sam was sitting back on the couch, one hand holding a beer, and one hand messing with her flaming red hair. We were in my apartment. I bit my lip. Hopefully it would be just us in this conversation, because one of my roommates, Logan, had no idea about this date. He'd play the overprotective father, so right now he really needed to be out already, or asleep.

"His name is Justin." Sam squinted, let go of her hair, and leaned forward in her seat. Obviously it seemed to her I wasn't telling her something. She was right.

"Tell me a little about Justin, Rose, I'm dying to know something, anything," Sam whispered. I smiled a little bit at the certain piece of information I couldn't tell her about, but I decided to tell her what it was, without really doing so.

"He's tall, not very muscular, great honey blonde hair, stormy gray eyes, he's very nice," I told her, smiling. Sam glared at me with her eyelids half covering her eyes. She knew she was onto something, but she couldn't figure out what was going on.

"Anything else?" she asked. I grinned at her, glancing at a nearby mirror to make sure my hair was okay.

"Nope. That's all I'm going to tell you." Sam grit her teeth when I told her that, and I stifled a giggle. She was an FBI agent, and she did interrogations about once a week. I understood why she would try to interrogate me on this, but what she didn't understand, was that I was one too. I was also a professional liar, and psychology might as well have been my middle name. I knew how to completely get out of any questioning. Poor Sam was at my mercy.

"Yo, what's up my par-tay people! Oh, good Rose you're already in a dress. Come on, let's go!" Mel came into my apartment, and of course that's what she would say. I chuckled, because she had it wrong. Jade, upon hearing the word "par-tay" came out, in a green dress. She was smiling for once.

"Sorry girls, I can't. I've got a date." Mel pouted at me. Jade raised her eyebrows to the ceiling, and I could tell she was about to give a speech.

"A date? A stupid date? Honey, we're going to a bar. A club, in which you, the best barmaid ever, are invited to just come in anytime you want to, get behind the counter, and take over. You get paid by the half-hour. If it weren't for your silly FBI job, you'd be a bartender until you die, because you love it. You're coming with us. There's no way you're going on a date." She said that whenever she needed a drink and I wouldn't be there to make her one. I rolled my eyes.

"You and Mel are perfectly allowed to go back there too! Besides, you know exactly how to make the drinks. You're just lazy. Plus, being a barmaid doesn't exactly do wonders for your love life. The guys tend to chase after the sluts that walk in with short dresses and tall heels. No offense Mel." She brushed it off. Jade groaned like a teenager, because she didn't get what she wanted.

"Great. Now I'm going to have to make my own drinks," Jade whined. She and Mel were about to head out when Sam stopped them.

"No, wait. I'll come with you guys." Mel looked a little surprised, since Sam could be a slightly more uptight person than I was, and took her job very seriously.

"Don't you have work tomorrow, girly?" Mel asked. Same shrugged.

"I'll take a sick day. It won't be a lie, because if I keep drinking I'll be puking till three in the afternoon anyway." That's the spirit.

"Alright, no more stalling. I'm craving alcohol, and I'm kind of horny, I need to leave," Jade tried to usher them out, Mel of course needing to say one more thing.

"Rose! This date of yours, is he athletic?" I grinned. That right there was the million dollar question.

"Hell yeah he is," I responded. Sam gasped and whipped around, and gave me a look that would scare most people.

"A soccer player! You're going out with a soccer player! Rose, please tell me you're not! I mean this baseball player you dated for a couple of weeks was bad enough, but a soccer player?" she whined. I laughed.

"They're not nearly as bad, and they're a hell of a lot funnier. Plus, Justin is really nice. I think you'd like him," I told her as I shoved them all out of my apartment. I sighed. They meant well, really, but when it comes to my love life they seem to be…crazy? No. Overprotective? Not really.

I was still pondering what adjective I could use to describe them when there was a (polite) knock on the door. I smiled, knowing exactly who it was. Smoothing out my dress one last time, I opened the door.

"Are you ready to go, malady?" Justin held out his arm for me to take. I shut my door behind me, and took his arm.

"You know, I just saw three girls in party dresses further down the hall. They seem to be talking about soccer players. Isn't that odd?" he informed me. I blushed.

"It definitely is. I hope it wasn't anything negative. All of the soccer players I know are positively wonderful," I smiled flirtatiously at him.

"Well, they seemed to be saying how all players seem to be tall, blonde- I'm not sure that's so true- and funny, so I'm not sure how bad they're speaking of us." I tried to bite back a chuckle

"Yeah, I'm not so sure on the blonde thing either. I know a guy who had jet black hair," I told him to make him feel better. I was still thinking of what they were saying. Well, at least they agreed that there was a slight resemblance in most soccer players.

If only Justin knew I was the one that pointed it out to them.

A/N: So, review, please? Seriously, I need to know what you think of this.