Novel & Cerita Kickbutt Buttowski Games

I watched the guy's every move. The way he shuffled his feet, his posture and even the way held his fists. The bell rang, and some music started blaring again. It was 'Awake by Godsmack'. He jumped for, and I ducked just in time for him to miss. I shot back up and remembered what Liam said. Kicking is my strong point. I can thank six years of soccer for that.

"Nope, I'm actually a 9. I got big feet." I stuck my foot up dramatically. "They don't look that big. If it makes you feel any better, I wear a size 13." I grabbed my shoes, "Well damn kid, you have me beat." We all went over to our lane, typing in our stupid, inappropriate nicknames. I picked out a cool orange and black bowling ball, and yes, it was a lighter ball. The first game went by quickly, and Derek ended up winning. I'm learning that he's more of the competitive type out of the group. I was sitting at one of the bar stools at the snack bar, getting myself a milkshake when Connor sat next to me.

He also knew that he was Russian, and that he was good at science. "Aleksi. Volkov." Oh, and he had a hot sister. Matteo shook his hand and pointed to the door. "From now on, if you want to sell in my club, you come see me first. And we can work out a deal." Since then, in January last year, Aleksi Volkov has been sort of a friend to Matteo, as well as his dealer.

I didn't even realize they had the music that loud. The bathroom must be soundproof, or something that dims sound. That is kind of scary. Then again, they are rich, so the whole dorm just may be soundproof. I walk down the hallway into the kitchen and find my two asshole masters standing around the kitchen island, playing a game of beer pong. Boys will be boys, no matter if they are rich, are not, I guess. "Ahh, there is our slave. Come here and blow on my ball to give me good luck." Alec laughs and holds out a little yellow ball toward my face.

Jo stood between them, a whistle slung around his neck and his right arm raised up before he blew the whistle and they started lunging towards each other. Mr. Jung ducked when Mr. Min's fist came flying towards him, brutal and unabashed. He was like that when it came to Mr. Min and Mr. Kim but that didn't mean he wasn't good at what he did. Mr. Jung moved swifter than anybody I had seen fight before, you could let yourself think you'd win but he'd be right there, knocking the breath out of you the very next second. There was no anger, no wrath but pure dominance in the game, technique over strength.

"Hell of a game. You should all come celebrate with us. There's this bar down the street that doesn't check IDs too hard." Despite everything that happened, some of the guys are already nodding, talking about going out. Hockey players love any excuse to party, especially after a game like this. "I'm not going," I say immediately. No way I'm spending more time around Marcus. "Come on, Jules," Marcus says, that fake-friendly tone making my skin crawl. "Don't be like that. We're all just having fun." He looks around the room, then his eyes land on Bryson.