Football Player With Big Forehead Mga Nobela at Kwento

However, the basketball player would be ridiculed for his part in the scandalous image. "Yo, I think I know this dude", one player says. "Of course you know Jack Thompson, he's one of the star players on the mens' basketball team", another football player says in a "duh" tone. "No, dingus, I mean the guy without his face in the shot", the former player rolls her eyes, "His name is like Jay or something", she holds her chin in deep thought. "Yea, I can't remember", she shrugs.

Brett's imposing figure loomed before me, his piercing hazel eyes seeming to see right through me. The quarterback's rugged charm was undeniable, from the chiseled lines of his athletic build to the unruly mess of dark hair that framed his strong features. The overwhelming scent of Axe body spray clung to him like a cloud, an unmistakable signature that seemed to announce his presence. As he stood there, clad in his worn quarterback jersey, I couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by the sheer force of his personality.

The precision in his feet made me realize that he was really good at football so I found myself enchanted by his skills. I walked closer as he finally heard my footsteps and turned to me in shock. He had black wavy hair falling across his face, with dark grey eyes that watched me curiously. He wore a blue jersey and I could see a signature at the bottom of it. He was definitely going to be from a rich home if he could get a signed jersey from a real football player. "Who are you?" He asked and I glanced around nervously, scared that I had interrupted his game. "Uhm, my name is Henry," I whispered softly as he came closer and I took a step backwards.

Why are humans flipping in the air like birds? Letting out a breath, I glance at the field. The football players move in perfect formation, running plays under the scrutinizing eyes of their coach. Some are shirtless, their sweat-drenched muscles gleaming, which earns them plenty of attention from the girls in the stands. Their giggles and not-so-subtle squeals ring in my ears. Rolling my eyes, I let my gaze wander until it lands on him. Arc Xandin. He stands near the fifty-yard line, engaged in a conversation with a teammate. His silver-white hair falls effortlessly over his forehead, framing sharp, aristocratic features.

" My laugh was self-deprecating. "Once you acclimatize to the city, you fall in love with the anonymity of it." But Kieran would never know. Incogintaurenity was something he'd never know again this lifetime. He was one of the tallest soccer players in the world. An Ashburn FC forward, renowned for his lethal penalty kicks and ruthless dribbling that had defenders stumbling over one another's feet as they attempted to cover him, he was, without doubt, the bane of every goalkeeper in the Premier League and the one mythological player every youngster in Europe and South America possessed a poster of on their bedroom wall.

"Like, the football player? Aw, hell, I saw the hit you took. I heard a rumor that you're not coming back." I held my breath, but Noah just shrugged. "Yeah, that's true. Unfortunately, the damage to my knee was just too extensive." He squeezed my hand. "But now I've got something even better than football in my life, so I'm not complaining." The other man's forehead wrinkled. "What is better than . . . oh." Understanding dawned. "Yeah, that's great." He busied himself with putting away the monitor and handing me tissues to wipe off my stomach. "Still, I'm sorry about your career. Sucks for you. Sucks for Tampa. You were a really excellent player."

His eyes were a chocolate brown that made me melt when he'd look at me a certain way. He was about five foot nine inches, a good eight inches taller than me. He wasn't the tallest, but he made up for it with the muscles. He worked out non stop and had the biggest biceps I had ever seen. He was a linebacker in our school's football team, so he had to be strong. He stood up and straightened his baby blue polo shirt. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Don't start your crying bullsh*t, Kelly."

I yelled surprised to see him, there was so many universities in Boston, I didn't even bother to think he had meant Harvard. His face was surprisingly not hurt as how I had expected it to be. I thought they would've fought to how bad the argument was. "Well, you know, I'm actually doing two major's which is becoming an orthopedic and also a professional football player," He replied surprising me. "Not bad, it seems you have a lot of surprises up your sleeves," I responded. "Yeah, it shocks a lot of persons when I tell them that I'm doing two major's, so how about you. What are you majoring?" He questioned.

In a split second, a tall guy ran towards them, holding a football under his arm. This was a very tall guy, about six-foot-three, with broad shoulders that seemed to stretch the fabric of his practice jersey and well-developed muscles that told clearly why he was the captain. His hair was dark blond and damp from warm-ups. There was a bright and confident smile on his face. "Dex!" he yelled, giving him a one-armed embrace. "My man." They exchanged a few words before he glanced over at Mara and Jade, saying hi to them, his gaze landed on Quin, then Dex pointed at Quin.

"I'm serious. Francisco caught him smiling at his phone during lunch yesterday and asked whether he'd suffered a concussion. Andre told him to mind his business, which obviously made everybody more interested." "My clothes have nothing to do with your family's inability to mind their business." "Oh, you'll fit in beautifully." Sofia shoved his shoulder. "Go away." Diego started moving backward. "I didn't even say anything bad." "You were about to." "That's profiling." He left before Sofia could hit him again. Andre appeared not long afterward. He had exchanged shirts with an Aranda player and hadn't put another one on, leaving a towel around his neck instead. His hair was damp from the showe