Caspar sat, alone on the bench after the game, smiling to himself. The game had been tough, but with his leadership and skills, the Kinsville Daggers won the game. The sweat on his brow and soaking his jersey was proof enough of the game's brutality, but it didn't bother Caspar. He had always loved the game, and being team captain was a plus.
Sweeping his limp sandy blond, sweat drenched hair away from his face, he stood up, hearing the team cheering from their locker room. He heard his name being chanted, the calls for their captain and champion scorer. He could smell the sweat from outside the locker room, the sweat that proved true loyalty and effort toward their team and school colors.
"Jennings! Jennings! Jennings," they chanted as he entered the doorway and jogged down the hall, head held high. The chant got louder and he could hear each boy's voice clearly. He recognized even the coach's chants. Nothing could match the feeling he got when he heard how much pride he brought to his peers, teachers, and school. Wearing the black and silver colors of his school, Caspar felt invincible.
"Silver and black, the Daggers are back," he cheered as he ran into the locker room, seeing all of his team mates with towels in hand, shirts of, chanting and cheering for him. His smile brightened the room and the cheers turned into whoops and hollers. He was instantly mobbed with sweat covered bodies patting him on the back, embracing him, lifting him into the air.
"Silver and black, the Daggers are back," the team chanted as they dispersed and headed to the showers. That left Caspar, his best friend Jack, and Coach Monohan alone in the main locker room, smiling like the Cheshire cat.
"Good game, Mr. Jennings. You and Jack were amazing, scoring and defending! Did you see the other team pout? I think I saw tears!" Coach Monohan grinned at the thought, looking as if he was having a good memory from his childhood. His Irish accent and young age made him seem as if he was a child, his way of expressing himself just added to the effect.
"Yeah man! You did great! Silver and black, the Daggers are back, with Caspar and Jack," Jack joked. Caspar smirked at the two, who seemed more excited than ever. Caspar was quite humble, knowing that the other team was just as good, he understood and respected each team that played them. With the respect he had for his 'enemy', he was capable of truly knowing how to beat them. He understood that you must respect your opponent.
"They were hard to beat, guys. We did good, though," Caspar slurred, feeling his tense muscles more now, the effects of his adrenaline wearing off and leaving him tired. He slumped slightly and removed his sweat-soaked jersey, tossing it onto a bench.
"Whatever you say, Jennings," Coach Monohan grumbled as he retreated into his office, cocky smirk still planted on his face. Jack still grinned wildly at his friend before pushing him onto a bench and patting his back.
"Marley is waiting man. She is excited to see you, proud of the winning scorer," Jack inquired. Caspar perked up at the sound of his girlfriend's nickname. Marla had been dating him for three weeks now, and he liked her immensely.
"Okay, Jackson. I will leave it up to you to deal with equipment," Caspar teased, to which Jack's smirk dropped. "Jack, relax. I was just kidding, but help Ollie out, aye?" Jack nodded as Caspar sauntered into the shower stall the boys always saved for him; the one that could produce scalding hot water and was always filled with masculine scented soaps they had gotten for him. He enjoyed the attention greatly, but refused to believe he deserved it. He thought that Jack deserved this, or maybe one of the other boys, but he was the one voted into the position of captain. His team mates never regretted the choice either, and gladly followed him.
Turning on the scalding hot water, Caspar stared for a second at the steam. He could hear his friends, almost brothers, singing, teasing, and celebrating. This was what made him happy. His team; they tried, they were loyal, they bore the colors well for their school and were worthy of high respect. They didn't let it go to their heads, and even when they lost, they celebrated, not for the loss, but for the enjoyment of the game and effort they put forth. They all remained good students, most passing all of their courses with honors, and most of the courses were AP classes.
"Caspar, hurry up! Marly is waiting for you," Jack called into the shower stalls. Caspar quickly snapped out of his thoughts, grinning wildly. He undresses, noticing small bruises, bleeding cuts, and dirt stains as he went. He smiled, thinking of how he got them, becoming more and more proud. He removed his black cleats, his silver and black shorts, never losing the grin.
He stepped into the scalding water, letting it burn his skin into a tingling sensation and relax his muscles. He sat there, staring at the metal wall in the stall. There, was a name written. A name carved into the metal, with a small inscription.
'Caspar Jennings: Beloved captain, opponent, friend, boyfriend, student, and child. May he forever be prideful of his achievements and accomplishments. -Kinsville Daggers and Opponents'
It might have been destruction of property. It might have been tacky. It might have been plain creepy. But it made Caspar swell with not only more pride, but pure happiness that he made others feel as they made him feel. Accompanying the original signatures, were signatures from other players, from both his team and others. He saw captains' names, coaches' names, water boys' names.
This distracted him, long enough that Jack again called into the showers. Caspar only grunted, knowing that he was most likely the last one in the room now. He cleansed his hair with scents that made him sigh in relief and realize just how sweaty he really smelled. He continued on, cleansing the cuts and bruises, dirt spots and face paint, until he was as clean as he was after his first shower this morning before school.
He quickly turned the water off, noticing how his skin had turned a light pink from the water temperature, and thanking the heavens above that he was tanned well so he didn’t look like an idiot when he went to see Marley, as he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He hurried into the locker room, retrieving an extra jersey for tomorrow, his black and blue plaid button down shirt, and black basketball shorts; slipping them on along with his sneakers.
"Casp," he heard a soft voice call. His head snapped up, scanning for the source before landing on the dye blond girl he happened to be dating. Her outfit was a bit girly with pink ruffles and frills with high heels, but she still looked good as in she was popular and stereotypical; her blue eyes looked dazzling under her thick lashes and thin lines of eyeliner, her lips glistened with light lip gloss, and her high cheek bones held a light natural blush. Her tanned skin made her eyes pop in the best way, making them bright and full of life, almost like they were colored contacts, and her legs look longer than red woods.
"Marley," he stated and grinned at her. She smiled shyly at her boyfriend, blushing even more as she walked over to his relaxed form. Caspar didn't make a move to stand from the bench as she approached, and as soon as she was close enough, he grabbed her hand and brought her next to him on the bench. "Did you enjoy the game?"
Marley only grinned somewhat sweetly and kissed his cheek, before leading him out and to his car, having him drive to her house, before he left to his own. Little did Caspar know, going home would change his outlook, his pride, him. When he got home that night, no sleep was found. The only sound was his own screams, whimpers, and cries of pain.
"We can't keep paying for your hospital bills, Austin," was the only thing her father said as he walked through the doors of the emergency room. Austin only looked up for a second, before looking back down at her lap. She heard her mother crying out in the hallway, most likely with her brother attempting to sooth her.
"I'm sorry," was all she managed to say. She heard a heavy sigh, causing her to look up.
"Can you quit?" The one thing her father said, one of the only since he came into the room, made her temper flare. 'How dare he ask that,' Austin thought, her body stiffening.
"Quit? Quit! How can you ask me to quit what I love, what I do," she shouted out in exasperation. Her father took a step back, eyes widening as he saw what his daughter had become, what she really was. He had to understand though, she was just trying to protect them.
"Who are you," he questioned. Noticing the confusion that passes over her face, he continued. "You are so addicted to pain, that you have lost yourself. I cannot recognize you as my daughter anymore. My daughter would never allow herself to be hurt like this, be put in danger, put her little brother in danger. I thought maybe if I allowed you to try something else to release anger, stress, you would go back to the way you were. I gave you your wish, you are a great archer! Isn't that enough? Grayson looks up to you! He wants to be an archer, he wants to be like you. But why? I don't understand why, because you are not my daughter, and you are certainly not somebody to be looked up too." Austin's father's voice had become weak, unsteady.
"What do you mean," Austin asked, almost fearing the answer.
"You are not our daughter, not Grayson's sister. I am disowning you, we are," he explained bluntly, his voice still weak and it continued to waver.
"You can't do that," she whispered in horror. Leaving Grayson, her family, her life, her boys, was enough to make her think.
"Will you quit your street fighting," her father asked, a glint of hope coming into his eye, clearly expressed in his voice. He didn’t know how much more dangerous that would make Austin’s life. She was feared, along with wanted, and hated.
"No, that would be worse than continuing, dad," Austin hissed, anger returning to her at the thought of hurting Gray, or even her parents. Her father allowed the hope to slip away, and a tear to leave his eye.
"Do not call me that. I don't know you. My son doesn't know you, nor does my wife. I have never had a daughter, only a monster who was sheltered in my own home. You will pack your things and leave. You will not be allowed to see my son or wife. I will pay this bill, put some money into an account for you, but that will be it. You are no longer a part of this family," he spoke, his voice cold and void of emotion.
"Dad," she started.
"I am not your father, as far as I know and care, that man is right for leaving you. He must have known what a monster you truly were, to put your own brother in danger,” he paused, “Now you don't even have one."
The cries outside the room intensified and Grayson Carter ran into the room, gasping with unshed tears in his eyes, face shocked and panicked, with eyes as cool as ice, like his sisters.
"Dad, mom needs you," he stated coldly, tone cold, even and unforgiving. It reminded his father of Austin, making his father wince, before leaving the room silently, without an argument, to tend to his hysterical wife. Grayson sprinted over to Austin's bed side and dropped to his knees. He cried, calling his 'sister's' name, refusing to believe that those words were ever spoken about her, that his father ever disowned her.
"Austin! Austin, please don't leave me! Please don't listen," he cried. Austin shushed him, pulling him onto the bed with her unwired arm and, petting his onyx hair soothingly, attempting to calm his pleas and hiccups. His sobs softened until they were mere whimpers.
"My Gray, my little brother. I know you don’t want me to go, I don’t want to, but I have to go, Gray," she whispered in his ear as he calmed, only causing him to become desperate again, clutching onto her with all of his might.
"Then I will come with you, Aussie! I will, I have to! We can leave home together," Grayson whimpered, burying his face in his sister's long hair, inhaling the familiar scent of warm vanilla and harsh, metallic blood. He choked back another sob, knowing that she was hurt and now abandoned by the people she was supposed to be able to trust and depend on.
"No. I don't know how well off I will be, Gray. I can't be sure you are safe and cared for properly. You need to stay with mom and dad. You need to have a family, have friends, and try out for sports like other boys do without having to worry about any of this. It will all be fine. I have your phone number," she whispered to her brother who, once again, shook with sobs, this time in silence.
"Promise me you will call?" Austin hummed in response, running her fingers through his floppy locks, before lightly pushing him to his feet next to her.
"I will see you when I arrive home later tonight, Gray. I need you to go home and pack my stuff," she told him, to which Grayson nodded his head, lip still quivering violently, knowing that this would be the last time he would see her like this, somewhat relaxed and friendly, see her as his sister as far as her father was concerned. Then and there, he walked away from her, along with her parents.
Later that night, she did indeed return to her home. She picked up her stuff, got the bank account number from her father, got into her truck and left. All the while, Grayson cried, asking to go with her, for her to stay. She left, though. And it changed her outlook on her own life, her view of hobby, it changed her.
Sweeping his limp sandy blond, sweat drenched hair away from his face, he stood up, hearing the team cheering from their locker room. He heard his name being chanted, the calls for their captain and champion scorer. He could smell the sweat from outside the locker room, the sweat that proved true loyalty and effort toward their team and school colors.
"Jennings! Jennings! Jennings," they chanted as he entered the doorway and jogged down the hall, head held high. The chant got louder and he could hear each boy's voice clearly. He recognized even the coach's chants. Nothing could match the feeling he got when he heard how much pride he brought to his peers, teachers, and school. Wearing the black and silver colors of his school, Caspar felt invincible.
"Silver and black, the Daggers are back," he cheered as he ran into the locker room, seeing all of his team mates with towels in hand, shirts of, chanting and cheering for him. His smile brightened the room and the cheers turned into whoops and hollers. He was instantly mobbed with sweat covered bodies patting him on the back, embracing him, lifting him into the air.
"Silver and black, the Daggers are back," the team chanted as they dispersed and headed to the showers. That left Caspar, his best friend Jack, and Coach Monohan alone in the main locker room, smiling like the Cheshire cat.
"Good game, Mr. Jennings. You and Jack were amazing, scoring and defending! Did you see the other team pout? I think I saw tears!" Coach Monohan grinned at the thought, looking as if he was having a good memory from his childhood. His Irish accent and young age made him seem as if he was a child, his way of expressing himself just added to the effect.
"Yeah man! You did great! Silver and black, the Daggers are back, with Caspar and Jack," Jack joked. Caspar smirked at the two, who seemed more excited than ever. Caspar was quite humble, knowing that the other team was just as good, he understood and respected each team that played them. With the respect he had for his 'enemy', he was capable of truly knowing how to beat them. He understood that you must respect your opponent.
"They were hard to beat, guys. We did good, though," Caspar slurred, feeling his tense muscles more now, the effects of his adrenaline wearing off and leaving him tired. He slumped slightly and removed his sweat-soaked jersey, tossing it onto a bench.
"Whatever you say, Jennings," Coach Monohan grumbled as he retreated into his office, cocky smirk still planted on his face. Jack still grinned wildly at his friend before pushing him onto a bench and patting his back.
"Marley is waiting man. She is excited to see you, proud of the winning scorer," Jack inquired. Caspar perked up at the sound of his girlfriend's nickname. Marla had been dating him for three weeks now, and he liked her immensely.
"Okay, Jackson. I will leave it up to you to deal with equipment," Caspar teased, to which Jack's smirk dropped. "Jack, relax. I was just kidding, but help Ollie out, aye?" Jack nodded as Caspar sauntered into the shower stall the boys always saved for him; the one that could produce scalding hot water and was always filled with masculine scented soaps they had gotten for him. He enjoyed the attention greatly, but refused to believe he deserved it. He thought that Jack deserved this, or maybe one of the other boys, but he was the one voted into the position of captain. His team mates never regretted the choice either, and gladly followed him.
Turning on the scalding hot water, Caspar stared for a second at the steam. He could hear his friends, almost brothers, singing, teasing, and celebrating. This was what made him happy. His team; they tried, they were loyal, they bore the colors well for their school and were worthy of high respect. They didn't let it go to their heads, and even when they lost, they celebrated, not for the loss, but for the enjoyment of the game and effort they put forth. They all remained good students, most passing all of their courses with honors, and most of the courses were AP classes.
"Caspar, hurry up! Marly is waiting for you," Jack called into the shower stalls. Caspar quickly snapped out of his thoughts, grinning wildly. He undresses, noticing small bruises, bleeding cuts, and dirt stains as he went. He smiled, thinking of how he got them, becoming more and more proud. He removed his black cleats, his silver and black shorts, never losing the grin.
He stepped into the scalding water, letting it burn his skin into a tingling sensation and relax his muscles. He sat there, staring at the metal wall in the stall. There, was a name written. A name carved into the metal, with a small inscription.
'Caspar Jennings: Beloved captain, opponent, friend, boyfriend, student, and child. May he forever be prideful of his achievements and accomplishments. -Kinsville Daggers and Opponents'
It might have been destruction of property. It might have been tacky. It might have been plain creepy. But it made Caspar swell with not only more pride, but pure happiness that he made others feel as they made him feel. Accompanying the original signatures, were signatures from other players, from both his team and others. He saw captains' names, coaches' names, water boys' names.
This distracted him, long enough that Jack again called into the showers. Caspar only grunted, knowing that he was most likely the last one in the room now. He cleansed his hair with scents that made him sigh in relief and realize just how sweaty he really smelled. He continued on, cleansing the cuts and bruises, dirt spots and face paint, until he was as clean as he was after his first shower this morning before school.
He quickly turned the water off, noticing how his skin had turned a light pink from the water temperature, and thanking the heavens above that he was tanned well so he didn’t look like an idiot when he went to see Marley, as he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He hurried into the locker room, retrieving an extra jersey for tomorrow, his black and blue plaid button down shirt, and black basketball shorts; slipping them on along with his sneakers.
"Casp," he heard a soft voice call. His head snapped up, scanning for the source before landing on the dye blond girl he happened to be dating. Her outfit was a bit girly with pink ruffles and frills with high heels, but she still looked good as in she was popular and stereotypical; her blue eyes looked dazzling under her thick lashes and thin lines of eyeliner, her lips glistened with light lip gloss, and her high cheek bones held a light natural blush. Her tanned skin made her eyes pop in the best way, making them bright and full of life, almost like they were colored contacts, and her legs look longer than red woods.
"Marley," he stated and grinned at her. She smiled shyly at her boyfriend, blushing even more as she walked over to his relaxed form. Caspar didn't make a move to stand from the bench as she approached, and as soon as she was close enough, he grabbed her hand and brought her next to him on the bench. "Did you enjoy the game?"
Marley only grinned somewhat sweetly and kissed his cheek, before leading him out and to his car, having him drive to her house, before he left to his own. Little did Caspar know, going home would change his outlook, his pride, him. When he got home that night, no sleep was found. The only sound was his own screams, whimpers, and cries of pain.
"We can't keep paying for your hospital bills, Austin," was the only thing her father said as he walked through the doors of the emergency room. Austin only looked up for a second, before looking back down at her lap. She heard her mother crying out in the hallway, most likely with her brother attempting to sooth her.
"I'm sorry," was all she managed to say. She heard a heavy sigh, causing her to look up.
"Can you quit?" The one thing her father said, one of the only since he came into the room, made her temper flare. 'How dare he ask that,' Austin thought, her body stiffening.
"Quit? Quit! How can you ask me to quit what I love, what I do," she shouted out in exasperation. Her father took a step back, eyes widening as he saw what his daughter had become, what she really was. He had to understand though, she was just trying to protect them.
"Who are you," he questioned. Noticing the confusion that passes over her face, he continued. "You are so addicted to pain, that you have lost yourself. I cannot recognize you as my daughter anymore. My daughter would never allow herself to be hurt like this, be put in danger, put her little brother in danger. I thought maybe if I allowed you to try something else to release anger, stress, you would go back to the way you were. I gave you your wish, you are a great archer! Isn't that enough? Grayson looks up to you! He wants to be an archer, he wants to be like you. But why? I don't understand why, because you are not my daughter, and you are certainly not somebody to be looked up too." Austin's father's voice had become weak, unsteady.
"What do you mean," Austin asked, almost fearing the answer.
"You are not our daughter, not Grayson's sister. I am disowning you, we are," he explained bluntly, his voice still weak and it continued to waver.
"You can't do that," she whispered in horror. Leaving Grayson, her family, her life, her boys, was enough to make her think.
"Will you quit your street fighting," her father asked, a glint of hope coming into his eye, clearly expressed in his voice. He didn’t know how much more dangerous that would make Austin’s life. She was feared, along with wanted, and hated.
"No, that would be worse than continuing, dad," Austin hissed, anger returning to her at the thought of hurting Gray, or even her parents. Her father allowed the hope to slip away, and a tear to leave his eye.
"Do not call me that. I don't know you. My son doesn't know you, nor does my wife. I have never had a daughter, only a monster who was sheltered in my own home. You will pack your things and leave. You will not be allowed to see my son or wife. I will pay this bill, put some money into an account for you, but that will be it. You are no longer a part of this family," he spoke, his voice cold and void of emotion.
"Dad," she started.
"I am not your father, as far as I know and care, that man is right for leaving you. He must have known what a monster you truly were, to put your own brother in danger,” he paused, “Now you don't even have one."
The cries outside the room intensified and Grayson Carter ran into the room, gasping with unshed tears in his eyes, face shocked and panicked, with eyes as cool as ice, like his sisters.
"Dad, mom needs you," he stated coldly, tone cold, even and unforgiving. It reminded his father of Austin, making his father wince, before leaving the room silently, without an argument, to tend to his hysterical wife. Grayson sprinted over to Austin's bed side and dropped to his knees. He cried, calling his 'sister's' name, refusing to believe that those words were ever spoken about her, that his father ever disowned her.
"Austin! Austin, please don't leave me! Please don't listen," he cried. Austin shushed him, pulling him onto the bed with her unwired arm and, petting his onyx hair soothingly, attempting to calm his pleas and hiccups. His sobs softened until they were mere whimpers.
"My Gray, my little brother. I know you don’t want me to go, I don’t want to, but I have to go, Gray," she whispered in his ear as he calmed, only causing him to become desperate again, clutching onto her with all of his might.
"Then I will come with you, Aussie! I will, I have to! We can leave home together," Grayson whimpered, burying his face in his sister's long hair, inhaling the familiar scent of warm vanilla and harsh, metallic blood. He choked back another sob, knowing that she was hurt and now abandoned by the people she was supposed to be able to trust and depend on.
"No. I don't know how well off I will be, Gray. I can't be sure you are safe and cared for properly. You need to stay with mom and dad. You need to have a family, have friends, and try out for sports like other boys do without having to worry about any of this. It will all be fine. I have your phone number," she whispered to her brother who, once again, shook with sobs, this time in silence.
"Promise me you will call?" Austin hummed in response, running her fingers through his floppy locks, before lightly pushing him to his feet next to her.
"I will see you when I arrive home later tonight, Gray. I need you to go home and pack my stuff," she told him, to which Grayson nodded his head, lip still quivering violently, knowing that this would be the last time he would see her like this, somewhat relaxed and friendly, see her as his sister as far as her father was concerned. Then and there, he walked away from her, along with her parents.
Later that night, she did indeed return to her home. She picked up her stuff, got the bank account number from her father, got into her truck and left. All the while, Grayson cried, asking to go with her, for her to stay. She left, though. And it changed her outlook on her own life, her view of hobby, it changed her.
A.N.- This is the rough prologue to my story Seemingly Perfect. It was inspired by not only my desire to prove that girls are just as tough as guys, but my interest in things that are sometimes more fiction than reality. I have been writing this story since I was in the sixth grade and I hope you enjoy this little bit of it!
-Amanda L. Marcus
-Amanda L. Marcus