As a non-soccer player, the match wasn’t as interesting as it could be. However, Calum was so good at the game that I found myself interested. His feet moved deftly with the ball, as if it were an extension of his body.
As Calum neared the goal, the ball moving swiftly, I brought my camera up to my eye, set it on action shot, and snapped as many photos as I could in the short amount of time that it took for Calum to score the goal.
The opposition was good, but Calum’s team was better. At the end of the game, it was a close call: 5-4 to Calum's team.
When the final goal was scored and the whistle went to signal the end, the winning team ran towards the middle and hugged each other, jumping up and down in what seemed to be a celebration dance. They eventually stopped, shook hands with the players of the opposition, and walked off the pitch, all of them completely over the moon.
“Congratulations, Calum. You did a good job.” I smiled as he joined Michael and I on the ground.
“Thanks, but it was mostly the guys.”
When Michael had said that Calum was modest I believed him to an extent. Most people were a little modest but Calum was much more so. He honestly believed that he hardly won the game, that it was all his team.
“So, mate, after you’ve changed and had a shower, we’re going over to mine so I can dye my hair.”
“Alright, I’ll try and be quick.”
“No, don’t be quick. Take a proper shower ‘cause you stink.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Calum lightly shoved Michael’s arm in retort to his insult, but I couldn’t help agree with Michael; Calum smelled horrible.
Calum stood up, dusted off his clothes, and joined his team mates in the locker room.
“Hey, Michael, Sam, I’m gonna grab some food. Want anything?” Calum asked.
“I’ll have a Coke, thanks. Sam will too.” Michael answered for me. I hated people answering for me but Michael was right, I did want a Coke, so I said nothing.
As Calum left the room, Michael called out, “Hair dye’s on the kitchen bench, grab that too!”
“Michael, he’s not your slave.” I said and poked him in the side, causing him to squirm.
“He offered!” He said as he held up his hands in surrender.
“You lazy pig.” I laughed.
“It’s a skill.” Michael joked.
A bottle of hair dye was then thrown at Michael, followed by a can of Coke. “Like Sam said, I’m not your slave. But I am your friend, who happens to be very nice.”
That was true, Michael and I had been gossiping about people in our school and how this girl was sleeping with this guy, despite her being underage, and not once did Calum agree or disagree with us or add his own comments. It was like there was not a single bad bone in his body.
“Alright, let’s dye your hair, Michael. In the bathroom.” I instructed.
In the bathroom, I got a jug and filled it with warm water. With Michael leaning over the bath’s edge, I poured the water over his hair, wetting it completely. I then followed the instructions on the hair dye bottle, narrowly missing getting hair dye on my shirt. Once the dye was applied, Calum, Michael and I hung in the bathroom, Michael with a towel around his neck. The instructions had said to wait for at least forty minutes, but Michael was impatient. After half an hour he had his head over the bath again and I was pouring more water over his head. He then dried his hair with the towel and was surprised when he saw black on the white towel.
“Did you not expect that to happen?” I asked, shocked. Of course black dye would appear on a white towel.
“Honestly, no.” Michael admitted.
“God, you’re an idiot. It’s black dye! What’s your mum going to think?”
“Oh shit, Michael, your mum is going to be so pissed.” Calum said.
“Well, she won’t find out.” Michael bundled the towel in a ball and ran outside. Calum and I walked outside in time to see him chucking the towel in the garbage bin.
“I don’t think his mum is going to appreciate that, either.” I said to Calum.
“Definitely not. I wouldn’t have chucked it in the bin but I wouldn’t have told her either. Michael’s mum can be scary.”
“Alright, let’s see what my hair looks like!” Michael slapped his hands together and rubbed them excitedly. He the proceeded to jog into the house, with Calum and I close behind.
“It looks awesome! Thanks Sam! You’re amazing!” Michael then picked me up in a tight hug and spun around.
“Michael, put me down.” I said in a stern voice. Michael listened and placed me back on the ground.
“Sorry,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just my hair looks really cool. So, uh, thank you.” He smiled and I smiled back; it was hard to stay at Michael for too long, especially with the goofy smile that was plastered on his face.
After the hug, we went in to Michael's room and he began setting up the PlayStation. He was interrupted, though, when a voice cut through the air like a knife.
“Michael, what did you just put in the bin?” It was his mum. She came into his room where we were all sitting, her hands on her hips.
“Um... The hair dye bottle.” Michael quickly lied.
“The hair dye bottle is in the bathroom. What did you put in the bin? And I swear to God, if you don’t answer properly, you won’t be able to dye your hair for six months!”
I looked at Calum when Mrs. Clifford threatened Michael with no hair dye. “Surely that can’t be a real punishment.” I whispered to Calum.
“It is,” he whispered back. “Last year he dyed his hair twenty times. All different shades of blonde.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s dedication.”
Calum laughed but covered it up with a cough when Michael turned around to glare at us. He then turned back to face his mum and told her the truth. The look on Michael’s face when Mrs. Clifford began shouting about his idiocy was priceless. He looked like a lost puppy. She concluded her rant with: “You should have told me, I wouldn’t have been as mad. You can’t hide things from me, Michael.”
When she left Michael fell back onto the bed and breathed out. “That could have gone a lot worse,” he commented. “She was soft because you guys are here. Once you leave, mum’s really going to lay into me.”
“Well, you’ll live. She can’t kill you and get away with it.” I said.
To get his mind off his imminent grounding, Calum handed Michael the PlayStation controller and they began playing a game. It was a classic shooter game and I quickly lost interest. I looked around Michael’s room, searching for something to do, and my eyes settled on his guitar. I picked it up, lay on Michael’s bed, and began softly strumming an Ed Sheeran song.
“We’re killing people here, Sam, don’t play a slow song.” Michael complained.
“Fine, douche bag.” I said and changed the song to the beginning of Back In Black by AC/DC. It was hard since the guitar was an acoustic instead of an electric, and there were no drums, but I managed. In fact, Michael and Calum complimented me on the song and asked for more. That led me to playing Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath songs as they ran around in the game, shooting anyone and everyone. It was actually quite fun.
Another chapter done! And Calum was introduced! Yay! I hope you guys are liking this. I'm getting a bit more of the description of the story into the actual writing.
Love you all! Bye! <3