Contronym

Contronym

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Introduction

"I know I'm hot, but keep your legs closed, Mason."


"Fuck you." I panted out at him. His mouth moved to my ear, sending a chill down my spine as he whispered.

"I think the correct phrase is 'fuck me'."


That's what Sylvia Mason and Finn Riley are. After moving to the highschool lacrosse capital of Connecticut to play men's lacrosse, Sylvia is faced with the pain in the ass Captain, Finn Riley. They both hate the very idea of the each other and can't even hold eye contact without making snide remarks. They both want the other gone no matter what but they also have undeniable similarities in their mannerisms. They are sheer opposites but they are also identical.

He was her darkness but also her light.

Chapter 1

The sun beat down on my pale skin as I stepped out of my army green Jeep. You would think hours in the sun would give me some color, but that just wasn't in my blood. Despite it being the Northeast, the summers were just as brutal as the ones in Southern California. Cicadas buzzed from distant trees, adding to the summer feel.

I slammed the door of my car and hauled my gear bag and stick out of my trunk. With a quick scan of the parking lot and the terf field nearby,  it was obvious that there were some reporters here. Why would there be reporters at a high school lacrosse tryout?

Why?

After playing on a boys team at a private Catholic school that shut down, no one else was willing to allow a girl on their high school team. Colleges like Duke and Maryland were looking at me and they would stay interested, but only if I could find a way to play on a boys team again this year. Transgender students bearly got to play with there idenifying gender so for a cisgender person trying to play with the opposite gender, it was even harder.

At my old Catholic school they didn't have a girls team so they let me play with the guys because I begged hard enough. Public schools were much less lenient. My father and I spent the last half a year making a stink on the news and searching all over the country to find a boys team for me. Finally, Groton Highschool agreed to let me tryout for the boys team. It was surprising considering how much of a lacrosse town Groton was becoming. I figured they wouldn't want to risk their pristine reputation for a girl.

Groton was on the come up and they were rivaling century old lacrosse towns like New Canaan and Darian. Connecticut was the high school lacrosse capital of the country so the fact that I had the chance to play at a top ranking school in the nutmeg state was a big deal.

The reporters were here to see if a girl was good enough to play with National Championship guys. I didn't mind the pressure or the eyes. I liked to show off.

Minutes later I found myself on the sidelines of the vibrant green field, standing in a group of guys listening to the coach talk. No one had even given me a second glance besides the coach, and I had a feeling it would stay like that. I was a newbie to the school so no one would care about me. I hadn't been inducted into their little group, yet.

"Welcome to boys lacrosse tryouts. I'm Coach Wilson, coach of the Varsity team." He was a medium sized man with a bald head and slight weight to him. Wilson seemed like an average guy but anyone in the lacrosse world knew him. This man was a Highschool legend. He played pro in the 80's and coached for North Carolina before returning to his home town. Wilson was basically responsible for Groton's success on the field.

He nodded his head to the much younger, African American man with a clipboard standing next to him. "This is Coach Noah of the JV team and sadly, Coach Dulis of the freshman team could not be here today."

We nodded at him and waited for him to continue. There were about 80 guys on the field, a majority were freshman. Lacrosse was big in the northeast, bigger than it ever was in California. Only about 17 or 18 would make it on each team. In women's lacrosse there were usually twelve players on the field but in men's there were only ten. That meant half the team would be subs and at a school like this, they probably never get any playing time. I was determined to make it on the Varsity team and be a starter, even if it killed me.

"If you have a good idea of your skills and know what level you want to try out for, go to your designated coach when we separate. Today we start with our 8k then we will test your stick skills. Make sure you finish the run or you're automatically cut." He finished and stepped back.

Coach Noah yelled out to all of us. "We are all running together. If you don't know the road pathways, follow someone who does! When we leave this field, we run. I expect everyone to finish in an hour at absolute maximum."

And so we ran.

My feet pounded on the pavement, making a soft sound on the ground while my heart raced in my chest and a warm blanket of body heat covered me. I ended up in the front of the pack, following a group of 3 tall and muscular men. I hadn't seen their faces or even talked to them, but if their heights and toned backs gave anything away, they were most likely Varsity. The roads were winding and confusing so I was forced to stick behind them. I felt slightly awkward jogging alone, a few feet behind them. I'm sure they were well aware of my presence because everyone else was meters back.

I wanted to show off my skills so I needed to stay in the front no matter how awkward I felt. I was here to play lacrosse not make friends. Running was my favorite and I ran 8k's often to train so this wasn't too challenging. Then again, I wasn't the fastest runner of them all. But who was?

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