"Jack! Taco, no lettuce!" I shouted over my shoulder, then turned to my customer. "Six dollars, please," I said politely. Michael brought me a Mtn. Dew, and I handed it to the customer, then shoved the cash register drawer shut, six dollars heavier.
Jack handed the girl her taco in a bag. She flashed him a flirty smile before walking away, swinging her hips. Jack turned away and grimaced.
"I got you, bro," I said, patting his shoulder. I grabbed a water bottle and tossed it to Harry, taking his Doritos bag and dropping it in the trash can. I pulled a candy bar out of my pocket. "I don't know about you, but I'm gonna go watch the game. Heather's out there," I said to Harry.
He stood up. "That's probably a good idea. People are a lot less likely to recognize me out there."
I walked out of the concessions booth, grabbing a couple more candy bars on my way. "Got it from here, Jack?" He nodded. "I'll be back before the buzzer," I said, pushing open the door to the arena.
Harry followed with his hands in his pockets and his head down.
"Nobody's going to recognize you," I said.
He looked up. "I've heard that one before." There was something in his voice that I recognized almost immediately.
In the weeks that I've spent with One Direction, none of them had ever done this.
He was acting distanced and depressed. This is what I wanted to get away from.
Don't get me wrong. I LOVE my friends. The Katrinas are awesome. They're my best friends, and always will be. Nothing can change that.
But Katrina C. does this all the time. She gets all quiet and doesn't answer questions like she normally does. She doesn't laugh or smile, and she brushes off conversation starters.
It pisses me off.
I walked faster so I was ahead of Harry. I wedged myself between Louis and Liam, crossing my arms and staring straight ahead at the game.
My anger subsided slowly as the game proceeded. We were winning, and Heather was in the penalty box at the end of the second period.
Niall tipped his head back to look up at me. "Where's Heather?" he asked. "I don't see her."
I nodded in the general direction of the box and said, "The penalty box."
He frowned. "Why?"
"She got a penalty."
He snorted and made an "uh-DUH" face. "Why did she get the penalty?" he elaborated. "What did she do?"
"Slashing." I shrugged.
Now he looked horrified. "Slashing? She wouldn't do that!"
"Trust me," I responded. "She would. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, she gets violent." I paused before adding, "This is coming from the girl who got a bruise from her elbow when I put a Pringle in her mouth with the wrong side up while Heather was driving."
"But she's so small!" Louis piped in. "I feel like she'd break."
"What team are we watching?" Zayn asked.
"Black," I answered, then added, "White is the enemy."
I looked up at the scoreboard. "Shit! I gotta go!" There were thirty seconds left on the clock, and I had to get back to concessions.
I shoved my way through the boys and dodged people on the bleachers. I got to the booth just as the buzzer went off, and I threw my hair into a ponytail, ready to get to work.

Notes

Okay, so this chapter sucks. I considered not even posting it, but then I'd have to elaborate on something in the next chapter, and I've already redone that chapter once, so I don't need to do that again.
So I posted it.
You're welcome.
And now I'm debating on whether I should finish writing the next chapter or do my algebra homework (because I've been procrastinating all weekend). Maybe I'll do some online shopping and not buy anything, because I'm broke as fuck.

ANYWAY.... I was going to update earlier, but my mom slammed Ella's (I'm just going to start using their story names when I'm talking about them in real time) ankle in the car door, so we had to go to Fargo to get it checked out, and now she's on crutches.
And now she has a legitimate excuse to get out of doing chores. It's not like she did them BEFORE she was on crutches, but now Mom and Dad aren't even going to ask her to do anything. And Heather and I have to clear a path for her to get through.
If they made Ella clean up her shit more often, WE wouldn't have to be wiping it up for her!
I oughta get my ankle slammed in a car door. Then I won't have to do chores OR participate in gym! It's a win-win for everybody! Well... just me, I guess.