It wasn't meant to be cliché. My life, that is. Really. It was just fate. It wasn't like we accidentally bumped into each other and I screamed my head off at him. It wasn't like he was some undercover superstar at my school trying to act normal. We had known each other for years now. Probably before we were even conceived. It wasn't my fault that our mom's were BFFs(!) since middle school. I told you. It was fate. And I really hated it at the moment. Fate, I mean. I guess fate and clichés are close cousins.
I knew my dark eyes were growing larger by the nanosecond as he opened his mouth and muttered the words I had threatened him to never say but there was nothing I could do unless I wanted to break my dad's flat-screen. And even that wouldn't do anything.
He smiled, a brilliant row of pearly whites on display. "My best friend is scared of the dark so I bought her a nightlight with my face on it. I didn't even know they existed!"
Oh, he was so dead next time I saw him. So, so dead. I kept watching as the hostess fluttered her eyelids at him. Could she make it any more obvious how much she wanted to jump his bones? "She must be a very lucky girl to have you around all the time."
He nodded. "Yeah, she just doesn't realize it yet."
The hostess smiled to the camera, "Right after the break, Jared Medina will be showing us-" I didn't even listen to the rest and shut off the television. Seeing him do all these stupid things was annoying and quite possibly damaging to my health.
Of course, I could only get away with ignoring him for so long. It's kind of hard to ignore someone who is known all around the world as one of the best soccer – football – players. Sorry. He makes sure I always say football not soccer. I'm starting to get used to it. You know, after two years of him hounding me down about it, not to mention all the years when we were kids and he'd tape me down to chairs in front of the television to watch various matches. The funny thing is that I spent so much time around all that stuff but I still didn't get it! He gave up trying to teach me about it five years ago, after I accidentally asked if his favorite team had gotten a touchdown when I walked by the living room one time. He didn't talk to me for the next two weeks. Excuse me for trying to be friendly and conversational.
It's all good though. As much as I complain about him we're still good friends…best friends, really. Or at least, he says I'm his best friend but I'm not too sure about it, considering that we hardly ever get to see each other and half the times he calls me he sounds like he's about ready to crash or vice versa. Besides, he has his teammates around all the time and his celebrity best buddies so it's not like he's lonely wherever he is and I have my own life here at home, with my own group of friends.
I angrily shut off the television and shuffled upstairs to my room, trying to be quiet on the last stair that always squeaked really loud, to not wake up my family. I walked past my brother's room and then my sister's and turned into mine. I groaned in annoyance as I walked into my room and saw a little glow of light. I threw myself in my bed, waiting for the call that I always got after those interviews.
And I was right, about twenty minutes later as I was starting to fall into a deep sleep I heard the annoying buzz of my phone. I felt it vibrating in my pocket as I rolled my eyes and brought it up to my ear.
"Hello?" I groaned, trying to move my face to a point where I wouldn't be muffling my own voice with my pillow.
"Sleeping?" I heard the deep voice on the other end.
"About to," I replied.
We were silent for a moment and then I heard him chuckle. "So, did you watch it?"
I bit my lip. "Nope. I didn't know you had one."
"Good thing you didn't watch it."
The jerk…of course he knew I had seen it. And he was trying to make me admit it by saying that. Well, I could totally make him feel guilty. That is if he had any sort of a conscience. "Well, I trust you not to say anything embarrassing about me. We're best friends, after all."
Medina laughed over the line. "You watched it, didn't you?"
"I already answered that and said no. Are you going deaf, Medina?"
"How's that nightlight working for you?"
"It's a charm." I answered, glaring at the thing, across my room. It really did work and made me feel better. But I wasn't going down without a fight. "Although, sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night and I see your face, I swear it makes me scream. Do you realize how scary looking you are?"
He chuckled and I felt my lips tug up at the corners as he answered me. "Well, I'm sure there are millions of girls who would love to argue that with you."
The smile that was forming on my lips froze in place. He was a jerk. "Don't let your head get too big there Medina. It won't fit on nightlights anymore."
"Ah," I could hear the grin in his voice, "and that's what I have you for, Camila, dear."
I rolled my eyes. "Next time, why don't you talk about your own embarrassing moments in life in front of millions of viewers?"
"I knew you watched it," he laughed.
"Yeah," I scoffed, "only because dad was watching it and I couldn't get near enough to the control to change it."
He didn't need to know that I was the only one awake at 2 on a Tuesday morning as everyone else slept, resting for the day ahead.
"Right," he said and I could tell he knew I was lying. "So, I'm about to head off to some more interviews then practice. You should go to bed, Cami."
"Okay," I said, "but not because you told me to. Only because I'm tired."
Medina laughed, low and deep. "Right," he said and again, I knew, that he could tell I was lying. "Have fun at school and say hi to your friends and family for me."
"Will do." I yawned. "Say hi to your family for me and have fun at practice. And don't talk about me anymore. There's only so much I can do to pretend that you're not talking about me."
Medina laughed again and I could picture his brown eyes lighting up. "I'll try."
We were silent for a moment. I yawned again. "Bye Medina."
"Night Camila, sleep well and have good dreams."
We hung up. This was the part where I always stared at my phone, wishing that Medina was physically there rather than a phone. I missed my best friend, no matter how much we argued. I would stare at my phone until sleep consumed me.
A/N I should really stop with all this writing! Gah, I make all of you wait for ever for updates because I'm a busy mess of a person with too much crap going on in life. Oh well! The ideas keep cropping up in my brain and they HAVE to get out somehow. So, I'm not sure if the name is any good. I was originally going to call it Goal! but I remember seeing a movie years ago that had the same name (and as a side note, I didn't particularly like that movie. Ok, ok, it was basically crap. I hated it haha) So, I want my story to have a different name but this was the best I could come up with. Opinions? Leave any ideas for a title name in your review! :)