ORIGINAL: Sixteen
Summary: it’s just a very sexy number
Word count: 2.296
About the story: This story was written in 2005. for a friend of mine. Later, it was adapted in a comic book style.
She had the number sixteen on the back of her jersey. That blue and white top with red stripes across her chest she wore so often, it must have been her favorite. And it must have been her lucky one, you noticed, because you saw her wearing it under her team jersey at every game. Her last name was written across the back of her shoulders and you can’t even remember how many times you whispered it to yourself and it always made you smile. Just like seeing her running across the field made you smile - smirk, actually - as her hair tied up in a ponytail bounced around her face. She played front center and she was fast like the wind. Those long slender legs made her cross the field in a flash and, besides the obvious attraction you felt for her, you were a bit jealous of her too.
You found yourself by the side of the field when she left the game and strolled over with her face all red and her breath shallow. She exhaled loudly before she lifted her arms way up over her head to let more air into her lungs. And then, she smiled widely seeing you standing on the side with the bottle of Gatorade in your hand. Taken aback by the mere fact that she noticed you, it was hard not to feel your heart jump in your chest, and it started to pound like crazy as she stepped towards you with that bright smile still glowing on her face.
Pointing with her finger at the bottle you held, she stopped right next to you and said, ‘May I…?’ Feeling like an idiot for letting the words get stuck in your throat, you just offered it to her. You did manage to let out a silent sigh when her fingers brushed against yours while she was taking the drink from your hand, but that was so far from what you wanted to do now that she actually spoke to you. Instead, you just stood there watching her taking a long swig; her head thrown back and eyes closed, little beads of sweat traveling down her neck and disappearing underneath that damn jersey. She squeezed the bottle tight in her fist, draining the last drop of fluid from the bottle.
When she was finished, she sighed contently and flashed you another one of those smiles. ‘Thank you,’ she said as she returned the empty bottle to you, ‘you just saved me.’ You mumbled an awkward ‘you’re welcome’ response and just when you were coming to your senses she was on her way back to the field. Before she got too far, she turned around and, running backwards so she could see you, she pointed at you and said, ‘I owe you one!’ You managed not to smile too enthusiastically - as the thought of how you’d like her to repay you popped up in your head - and you waved at her.
You spent the next - and last - thirty minutes of the game sending longing glances at the coach to let you into the game. It was practice but he still felt you weren’t quite up to it to be the part of the team. Instead he spent the time tapping his foot and shouting at the defense and that precious number sixteen to stop playing like little girls and live it up a little. You didn’t see anything wrong with her performance - but then again, you never did - you just wanted to be a bit closer and a little more involved just so you could show her - not the coach - all your best moves.
The sharp sound of the whistle cut through the air and the girls rounded up to leave the field. You saw the number sixteen peal her team jersey off as she walked towards the benches and threw it onto the pile next to the rest of the spare gear. Her favorite top was soaked in sweat and sticking to her body like second skin. This couldn’t get any more tempting, you said to yourself as you watched her remove the strands of wet hair from her face. The coach sent you all off to hit the showers and you picked up your stuff and jogged over to the locker room with the rest of the girls. You noticed with the corner of the eye that the number sixteen staid behind by the side of the field talking to the coach.
The locker room air was heavy with hot steam and the scent of sweat-soaked clothes. Girls walked around wrapped up in towels, talking in high-pitched voices and patting each other on the back as the sign of recognition for the good game they just played. You stuffed some of your used training clothes into your gym bag and pulled out another bottle of energy drink you saved for later.
Before you could notice - wrapped up inside your own thoughts - the locker room was empty and the steam has cleared out. Sitting on the bench by your locker, still wearing your team jersey and shorts you absentmindedly picked on the label of your drink’s bottle. The locker room doors were heard being opened and shut and then someone’s footsteps started approaching, the person dragging their feet against the tiled floor.
You heard muffled sounds coming from the second row of lockers behind you and then a loud bang caused by the fist being hit against the metal of the locker door. You jumped on your feet and squeezed the bottle you held in your hand really tight. Your heart began racing again when you heard a desperate sounding voice curse out a stifled ‘fuck!’ and you recognized it as her voice. Number sixteen was there, just a few feet behind you, crying.
At first, you felt self-conscious because it seemed almost as if you were being intrusive by hiding like this as she fought the tears so close to you. Taking a long breath, you gathered enough courage to move forward and peek on the other side of the lockers. ‘Hello?’ you announced yourself and gave her just enough time to hurriedly wipe off her tears so no one would know she’d been crying. It was in vain, you thought, as you saw her tearstained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Somehow, seeing her like this made you like her even more. Her eyes were all blurry and her lips swollen, her face still red and sweaty. ‘Simply beautiful,’ rang in your head as you slowly approached her with a reassuring smile on your lips.
‘I thought everyone would be gone by now,’ she sniffled quietly and then brushed her fingers across her forehead. She dropped the towel she was holding onto the floor and leaned her back against her locker. Her jersey was still clinging onto her for dear life. ‘Yeah,’ you breathed out, praying to god your voice doesn’t give up on you once again, ‘everyone is… I just staid behind because… I guess I just lost track of time?’
She smiled, timidly, but still. ‘It was a good game today. You were great out there.’ Your compliment just made her shake her head and raise her arms up in frustration. ‘Obviously, not that great by coach Burton’s standards,’ she squeezed out bitterly. ‘He won’t let me play on Saturday.’
‘What? Why?’ your surprise was genuine and you moved a few more steps closer, almost as if that would give you better insight into what was bothering her. She raised her head and looked you straight in the eyes - goose bumps scattered all over your skin - and she shrugged, ‘I have no idea. He says my performance is weakening. That I’m not playing well recently.’
‘That’s bullshit!’ you squinted so you’d accentuate your dissatisfaction, ‘I’ve watched you play for weeks and there’s noting wrong with your performance.’
In a second, her expression went from angry to highly interested and immediately you realized what you’ve just said. ‘You watched me play?’ She tilted her head to the side and gave you a curious look.
‘Erm…’ this is a tough one to get out of, you thought to yourself but then you saw her and that little smile that started forming in her eyes. ‘You know… I’m still new, and I’m learning. And you, you’ve got a great foot work so I’ve been paying attention so I’d learn a move or two.’
‘I see.’ She lowered her head to look at the floor but you didn’t fail to notice how a little smile turned into a grin.
Now you felt a little bit more confident so you decided to go deeper into the conversation. ‘So… what else did the coach say?’
Still looking down at the floor she sighed, ‘Oh… He said that I’m not focused on the game and that I’m obviously distracted.’
‘By what?’
She took a beat and then her eyes found yours again, ‘By whom, rather.’
‘Oh.’ This time you were really left without words and all you could do is just stay silent or say the dumbest thing in the world. ‘Want some more?’ you held up your energy drink bottle and offered it to her.
Now, that made her smile the way you liked the most, and she shook her head good-naturedly at you. ‘I can’t drink all of your stuff. What if you die of dehydration? Then I’d feel like an even bigger shit.’ She pushed herself away from the locker and stood up straight, examining your features for a few long moments. ‘But what I’d really like right now’ she said, and you once again could see a tinge of sadness in her eyes ‘is a hug.’
Without a second thought, you put down the bottle and placed it on the bench next to you. Slowly, you walked over to her until you were close enough for her to pull you into her embrace. You closed your eyes as you felt her breathe against you and her arms closing around your shoulders really tight. It felt like heaven, being so close to her and being held by her like that. Only in your wildest dreams did you allow yourself the luxury of imagining how her touch would feel like, but this was real and still you felt like dreaming.
When you least expected it, she moved slightly against you, not to break the contact like you thought she would, but just so she could adjust her head close to yours with her lips resting shy of an inch away from your ear. ‘I saw you play, too.’ She whispered and you lost your breath, ‘I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. The way you move… The way you stand… The way you lose the ball in the most random way…’ you both smiled at that and then after a beat she continued, ‘I guess I was distracted. By you.’
You closed your eyes again and swallowed hard before you pushed her slightly away so you could see her face. Her lips were still swollen and she licked them as she saw you looking at them. As if that was a silent invitation, you leaned in and kissed her. Her lips were salty and warm, soft beyond belief. Her hands didn’t waste any time, just like yours didn’t, either. Sooner than you could think, her fingers were buried in your hair, pulling your head in closer and deepening the kiss. You took a step forward making her step back until her shoulders were flat against the locker, sneaking your fingers shyly under that infamous jersey just so you could feel more of her skin.
She breathed fast and shallow against your lips and you bit her bottom one making her stop breathing completely for a second. Soon enough she came to and decided to explore a little further by tracing her tongue across your chin and down your neck. You propped yourself against the locker behind her back as you soaked in the sensation of her hands running across your shoulders and down your back, slowly disappearing under the waistline of your shorts. She kissed your neck and pulled you in closer, making your body press tightly against hers.
You confessed how you wanted her for so long and so desperately that you were afraid this was just a daydream. She convinced you otherwise with another deep and devouring kiss that sent all of your senses in overdrive. Your clothes soon became an obstacle and with one swift move she had your jersey on the floor, right next to your shorts and your bra. You giggled at how all of this is so sudden and so soon, but it didn’t stop you from moving on.
In between two kisses, she reached for the hem of her jersey to take it off. You put your hand on hers to stop her. ‘Really?’ she looked at you questioningly. You nodded, ‘It’s a thing about you… this jersey.’ You were confusing her, you could tell. ‘I just like… how it looks on you. And that number…?’ She nodded, ‘Sixteen?’ ‘Right,’ you smiled and kissed her briefly, and then lowering your voice down to a whisper, you said ‘It’s just a very sexy number. Very hot.’
For the first time she laughed out loud, making the entire room echo with her delight, ‘Honey,’ she took your face in her hands and looked you in the eyes, ‘you have absolutely no idea. But… I’ll let you find out.’
The End
Word count: 2.296
About the story: This story was written in 2005. for a friend of mine. Later, it was adapted in a comic book style.
She had the number sixteen on the back of her jersey. That blue and white top with red stripes across her chest she wore so often, it must have been her favorite. And it must have been her lucky one, you noticed, because you saw her wearing it under her team jersey at every game. Her last name was written across the back of her shoulders and you can’t even remember how many times you whispered it to yourself and it always made you smile. Just like seeing her running across the field made you smile - smirk, actually - as her hair tied up in a ponytail bounced around her face. She played front center and she was fast like the wind. Those long slender legs made her cross the field in a flash and, besides the obvious attraction you felt for her, you were a bit jealous of her too.
You found yourself by the side of the field when she left the game and strolled over with her face all red and her breath shallow. She exhaled loudly before she lifted her arms way up over her head to let more air into her lungs. And then, she smiled widely seeing you standing on the side with the bottle of Gatorade in your hand. Taken aback by the mere fact that she noticed you, it was hard not to feel your heart jump in your chest, and it started to pound like crazy as she stepped towards you with that bright smile still glowing on her face.
Pointing with her finger at the bottle you held, she stopped right next to you and said, ‘May I…?’ Feeling like an idiot for letting the words get stuck in your throat, you just offered it to her. You did manage to let out a silent sigh when her fingers brushed against yours while she was taking the drink from your hand, but that was so far from what you wanted to do now that she actually spoke to you. Instead, you just stood there watching her taking a long swig; her head thrown back and eyes closed, little beads of sweat traveling down her neck and disappearing underneath that damn jersey. She squeezed the bottle tight in her fist, draining the last drop of fluid from the bottle.
When she was finished, she sighed contently and flashed you another one of those smiles. ‘Thank you,’ she said as she returned the empty bottle to you, ‘you just saved me.’ You mumbled an awkward ‘you’re welcome’ response and just when you were coming to your senses she was on her way back to the field. Before she got too far, she turned around and, running backwards so she could see you, she pointed at you and said, ‘I owe you one!’ You managed not to smile too enthusiastically - as the thought of how you’d like her to repay you popped up in your head - and you waved at her.
You spent the next - and last - thirty minutes of the game sending longing glances at the coach to let you into the game. It was practice but he still felt you weren’t quite up to it to be the part of the team. Instead he spent the time tapping his foot and shouting at the defense and that precious number sixteen to stop playing like little girls and live it up a little. You didn’t see anything wrong with her performance - but then again, you never did - you just wanted to be a bit closer and a little more involved just so you could show her - not the coach - all your best moves.
The sharp sound of the whistle cut through the air and the girls rounded up to leave the field. You saw the number sixteen peal her team jersey off as she walked towards the benches and threw it onto the pile next to the rest of the spare gear. Her favorite top was soaked in sweat and sticking to her body like second skin. This couldn’t get any more tempting, you said to yourself as you watched her remove the strands of wet hair from her face. The coach sent you all off to hit the showers and you picked up your stuff and jogged over to the locker room with the rest of the girls. You noticed with the corner of the eye that the number sixteen staid behind by the side of the field talking to the coach.
The locker room air was heavy with hot steam and the scent of sweat-soaked clothes. Girls walked around wrapped up in towels, talking in high-pitched voices and patting each other on the back as the sign of recognition for the good game they just played. You stuffed some of your used training clothes into your gym bag and pulled out another bottle of energy drink you saved for later.
Before you could notice - wrapped up inside your own thoughts - the locker room was empty and the steam has cleared out. Sitting on the bench by your locker, still wearing your team jersey and shorts you absentmindedly picked on the label of your drink’s bottle. The locker room doors were heard being opened and shut and then someone’s footsteps started approaching, the person dragging their feet against the tiled floor.
You heard muffled sounds coming from the second row of lockers behind you and then a loud bang caused by the fist being hit against the metal of the locker door. You jumped on your feet and squeezed the bottle you held in your hand really tight. Your heart began racing again when you heard a desperate sounding voice curse out a stifled ‘fuck!’ and you recognized it as her voice. Number sixteen was there, just a few feet behind you, crying.
At first, you felt self-conscious because it seemed almost as if you were being intrusive by hiding like this as she fought the tears so close to you. Taking a long breath, you gathered enough courage to move forward and peek on the other side of the lockers. ‘Hello?’ you announced yourself and gave her just enough time to hurriedly wipe off her tears so no one would know she’d been crying. It was in vain, you thought, as you saw her tearstained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Somehow, seeing her like this made you like her even more. Her eyes were all blurry and her lips swollen, her face still red and sweaty. ‘Simply beautiful,’ rang in your head as you slowly approached her with a reassuring smile on your lips.
‘I thought everyone would be gone by now,’ she sniffled quietly and then brushed her fingers across her forehead. She dropped the towel she was holding onto the floor and leaned her back against her locker. Her jersey was still clinging onto her for dear life. ‘Yeah,’ you breathed out, praying to god your voice doesn’t give up on you once again, ‘everyone is… I just staid behind because… I guess I just lost track of time?’
She smiled, timidly, but still. ‘It was a good game today. You were great out there.’ Your compliment just made her shake her head and raise her arms up in frustration. ‘Obviously, not that great by coach Burton’s standards,’ she squeezed out bitterly. ‘He won’t let me play on Saturday.’
‘What? Why?’ your surprise was genuine and you moved a few more steps closer, almost as if that would give you better insight into what was bothering her. She raised her head and looked you straight in the eyes - goose bumps scattered all over your skin - and she shrugged, ‘I have no idea. He says my performance is weakening. That I’m not playing well recently.’
‘That’s bullshit!’ you squinted so you’d accentuate your dissatisfaction, ‘I’ve watched you play for weeks and there’s noting wrong with your performance.’
In a second, her expression went from angry to highly interested and immediately you realized what you’ve just said. ‘You watched me play?’ She tilted her head to the side and gave you a curious look.
‘Erm…’ this is a tough one to get out of, you thought to yourself but then you saw her and that little smile that started forming in her eyes. ‘You know… I’m still new, and I’m learning. And you, you’ve got a great foot work so I’ve been paying attention so I’d learn a move or two.’
‘I see.’ She lowered her head to look at the floor but you didn’t fail to notice how a little smile turned into a grin.
Now you felt a little bit more confident so you decided to go deeper into the conversation. ‘So… what else did the coach say?’
Still looking down at the floor she sighed, ‘Oh… He said that I’m not focused on the game and that I’m obviously distracted.’
‘By what?’
She took a beat and then her eyes found yours again, ‘By whom, rather.’
‘Oh.’ This time you were really left without words and all you could do is just stay silent or say the dumbest thing in the world. ‘Want some more?’ you held up your energy drink bottle and offered it to her.
Now, that made her smile the way you liked the most, and she shook her head good-naturedly at you. ‘I can’t drink all of your stuff. What if you die of dehydration? Then I’d feel like an even bigger shit.’ She pushed herself away from the locker and stood up straight, examining your features for a few long moments. ‘But what I’d really like right now’ she said, and you once again could see a tinge of sadness in her eyes ‘is a hug.’
Without a second thought, you put down the bottle and placed it on the bench next to you. Slowly, you walked over to her until you were close enough for her to pull you into her embrace. You closed your eyes as you felt her breathe against you and her arms closing around your shoulders really tight. It felt like heaven, being so close to her and being held by her like that. Only in your wildest dreams did you allow yourself the luxury of imagining how her touch would feel like, but this was real and still you felt like dreaming.
When you least expected it, she moved slightly against you, not to break the contact like you thought she would, but just so she could adjust her head close to yours with her lips resting shy of an inch away from your ear. ‘I saw you play, too.’ She whispered and you lost your breath, ‘I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. The way you move… The way you stand… The way you lose the ball in the most random way…’ you both smiled at that and then after a beat she continued, ‘I guess I was distracted. By you.’
You closed your eyes again and swallowed hard before you pushed her slightly away so you could see her face. Her lips were still swollen and she licked them as she saw you looking at them. As if that was a silent invitation, you leaned in and kissed her. Her lips were salty and warm, soft beyond belief. Her hands didn’t waste any time, just like yours didn’t, either. Sooner than you could think, her fingers were buried in your hair, pulling your head in closer and deepening the kiss. You took a step forward making her step back until her shoulders were flat against the locker, sneaking your fingers shyly under that infamous jersey just so you could feel more of her skin.
She breathed fast and shallow against your lips and you bit her bottom one making her stop breathing completely for a second. Soon enough she came to and decided to explore a little further by tracing her tongue across your chin and down your neck. You propped yourself against the locker behind her back as you soaked in the sensation of her hands running across your shoulders and down your back, slowly disappearing under the waistline of your shorts. She kissed your neck and pulled you in closer, making your body press tightly against hers.
You confessed how you wanted her for so long and so desperately that you were afraid this was just a daydream. She convinced you otherwise with another deep and devouring kiss that sent all of your senses in overdrive. Your clothes soon became an obstacle and with one swift move she had your jersey on the floor, right next to your shorts and your bra. You giggled at how all of this is so sudden and so soon, but it didn’t stop you from moving on.
In between two kisses, she reached for the hem of her jersey to take it off. You put your hand on hers to stop her. ‘Really?’ she looked at you questioningly. You nodded, ‘It’s a thing about you… this jersey.’ You were confusing her, you could tell. ‘I just like… how it looks on you. And that number…?’ She nodded, ‘Sixteen?’ ‘Right,’ you smiled and kissed her briefly, and then lowering your voice down to a whisper, you said ‘It’s just a very sexy number. Very hot.’
For the first time she laughed out loud, making the entire room echo with her delight, ‘Honey,’ she took your face in her hands and looked you in the eyes, ‘you have absolutely no idea. But… I’ll let you find out.’
The End