A/N I took a break from the paint fumes of my condo to write this chapter. I know its not as long as the others, but i hope its what you were hoping for!!! thanks to my beta Ben! Enjoy and please please please review!! Its what keeps me writing!! -Naima I’m running and not quite sure where to go And I don’t know what I’m diving into Just hanging by a moment here with you “Ethan you touch me one more fucking time and I swear to God I’ll cut off your fucking hand!!!” Christ this little brat next to me has been “casually” trying to feel me up all the way through the trip! “Oh don’t worry Ethan, Justin’s just in a bad mood because his ass is sore!” Mel coos. Fucking bitch, but she is kinda right. I’m sitting on a really cushy pillow in cotton sweats loving and hating the burning reminder Brian left yesterday. “FROM WHO!?!” Emmett squeals, the conversation continues in front of me but I just grumble and inch farther away from Ian, leaning my head against the window. When will this trip be over? Five hours in Mel’s van that smells like cornbread. I must admit I'm ridiculously excited to watch Brian play. He told me a little more about the rules and stuff so hopefully now I can understand what’s going on. We still have about two hours to go so I pull out my ipod and settle in for a nap. Brian’s POV I wake up to coach pounding on the door, waking all the guys up. I moan and turn in my bed, hiding my face in the cheap pillow, begging the images of my naked dream Justin to return. But alas, I want to shower before Chris starts jerking off in the bathroom like last year. I roll over and spring to my feet, and a sharp pain darts to the back of my knee. Whatever, suck it up Kinney, you can rest after the game. I quickly shower and have to stop myself from envisioning a soapy Justin in order to concentrate on the game. I soon finish and throw on my black track suit and head downstairs for some shitty complementary breakfast. Two Hours Later Justin’s POV Mel FINALLY finds a parking space and I'm the first one of the van, stretching my legs and getting as far away as possible from that creep sauce Ian. We grab our shit and head toward the stadium, it’s considerably cooler than Pittsburg and I stop to put on my big, black down coat. “I hope it doesn’t rain, it doesn’t look good.” I look up to see what Ryan is talking about and I’m greeted with a sky filled with huge gray and purple clouds. Christ, what is it with me, rain, and soccer? “It’ll be fine, I brought a couple of umbrellas just in case,” our little boy scout Mel. I laugh and continue to the stadium, its pretty huge, apparently some famous soccer team plays here. Brian made a big fuss when I said I didn’t know who, and that it was an “honor” to play there, whatevs, I just want his pretty little ass to hurry up and win the game before it starts pouring. BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ Its not 10 minutes into the first period or quarter when it starts to rain, no not rain, torrential buckets of water soaking our bodies. But of course, in God’s true fashion, it is merely raining, no lightening in sight, so the boys keep playing in the freezing rain. The score is already 1-0, courtesy of Brian and things are looking good for the team, minus the weather. Some of the crowd is fleeing to shelter, but the student section is still strong. Brian scores another goal and the stands erupt with cheering and screaming. I stand up and jump up and down, ignoring the umbrella that is knocked aside. I holler and I can't keep the smile off my face. The energy surrounding me is so powerful I'm completely wrapped up in it. The next couple quarter inning things pass quickly despite the weather, which has only worsened, making the field a total sludge pit. The score has stayed 2-0 and I can see Brian is getting tired. I wish his goddamn team would help him! He’s going to have to win state all by himself! The crowd has dispersed somewhat, especially during halftime. The black and orange mob is soggy but spirits are not down. The body painters have opted for some clothes thank god and umbrellas sold out in the stadium store. I attempt to shake some of the wetness out of my hair as I hear the buzzer that signals the last section of the game. I reach out to help a struggling Emmett who went to get us all hot chocolate, bless the boy. “Here you go baby, maybe this will help.” “Thanks Emm!” Poor Emmett, he hates sports even more than I do, and he knows no one on the team, although its fun having him here, especially on the car ride with his rendition of Boy from New York City. My eyes flick back to the game, or what I can see of it through the rain, the warm Styrofoam cup returning some of the feeling back to my shivering hands. The next few events happen in slow motion, the rain seems to freeze in the air and the crowd collectively gasps. Brian collides awkwardly with an opposing player, the ball is passed and they score a goal. But that’s not the end. I’ve seen Brian get hit and get back up with even more enthusiasm. But not this time. Brian’s face is screwed up in pain and he is rolling in the mud clutching his knee. Whistles are blown and people sprint from the sidelines to him. I don’t even notice as my hot chocolate drops and splatters on the bleacher below me. A few rows back and to the side, in the parent section, I see his parents, Debbie, and a scrawny kid, who has to be Michael, start coming down the aisle, Debbie all decked out in black and orange, screaming and shouting for people to get out of her way. I look back to the field where medics have loaded him onto a stretcher and are carting him off the field. I know people get hurt every day and get right back up to play, but something in the pit of my stomach tells me otherwise. I’m nervous for him, I want everything to be okay, but this sinking feeling tells me that that won’t be the case. Brian’s parental group passes us and Lindsay pushes me, waking me from my stupor. “Go!” she says. I hear voices around me as I make my way down the bleachers, following Debbie’s form “It’s probably nothing, he’ll be right back to score 5 more. “I don’t know, he looked like he was in a lot of pain. “It’s Brian Kinney, he can do anything. “That happened to me once “Its nothing! “If its serious he might lose his scholarship.……” I steel myself and pick up my pace, determined to catch up with the group and make sure Brian’s okay, vainly attempting to shake the sick feeling out of my gut.