the high-pitched sound of a group of everything fletcher despised seemed to be walking towards him, forcing himself to lift up his heavy head from the table. furrowed brows, a glare overcoming his harsh features, he looked back & forth between aria and her group of children behind. “your — friends ? are fucking weird,” was the first retort he made sure to include while grasping for the tickets from the box beside him. perhaps he’d think of the blonde too being weird, if he hadn’t previously noticed her around cheerleading practice with some of his circle.
coach sure did make it seem as though fletcher was a less-than player recently, showing him consequences left & right for his attitude, etc. but one thing he’d never let happen again is to not let him play in a game. so clearly frustration arose as he responded between somewhat gritted teeth loudly so her friends could hear, “you can tell ‘ nicole ’ that i am playing tonight. and while we’re playing fucking telephone - ask her to mind her own fucking business, yeah ?”
aria wasn’t exactly amused by the tone fletcher had used. most football players weren’t too nice, but she would’ve thought that, considering this was a group of girls very clearly into him, fletcher would’ve pretended to be at least a little bit more charming. “come on, dude,” aria said, trying to reason with him, her voice a little softer than before. “they’re clearly into you, and came only to see you take off your shirt. can you at least pretend not to be a total ass?”