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Posted by Ry on September 13, 2025 at 02:12:33
Partly true with real characters.

Here it is guys, have fun.

Safe, Ry.

Rain lashed down, a sudden, heavy curtain, as Liam, a mischievous glint in his eyes, surveyed the sodden school field. He kicked off his shoes, the pristine white of his socks a stark contrast against the damp, green-brown grass. “Anyone for a proper game?” he yelled, his voice already a little hoarse with excitement. “First one to score has to slide in the puddle!”

Tom, never one to back down from a dare, grunted, yanking off his trainers. “You’re on, chief. Just try and stop me.” His own white socks, new this morning, were already wicking moisture from the ground, the soles staining faintly green.

Harry, the class clown, caught the muddy ball Liam kicked his way. “I’m a professional, you know. Scout’s honor!” He stumbled, a theatrical flourish, sending the ball skittering into the large, murky puddle by the goal. “Oops!”

Josh, an eleven-year-old new starter, watched from the edge, his blazer looking impossibly neat. Dominic, his posh friend, adjusted his tie, a faint frown on his face. “It’s just a game, Josh. Look at them, they’ll ruin their uniforms.”

Liam pointed at the submerged ball, his grin widening. “Who’s going in goal? And who’s brave enough to retrieve that beauty?”

Ady, Ryan’s younger brother, jogged over, hands on his hips. “I’ll get it. Not scared of a bit of water, unlike some.” He shot a defiant look at Dominic. “*Splish-splash!*” Ady leaped into the puddle, sending up a brown geyser. He emerged, the ball clutched to his chest, his white shirt already splattered with dark mud. His white socks, submerged only moments before, were now a mottled grey-brown. “Your turn, Dominic. Bet you won’t.”

“You’ll get soaked, Ady!” Ryan, a prefect, called out, a smile tugging at his lips. He and Ross, the other prefect, leaned against a goalpost, their own blazers already bearing faint streaks of mud.

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Ady retorted, kicking the ball towards Liam. “*Whoosh!*”

The rain intensified, a relentless drumming on their blazers. More lads from other years, initially just watching, started to gather. Two year nine boys, Ben and Sam, stood mesmerized, their eyes wide.

“Right, new rule!” Liam roared, his voice barely audible over the deluge. “No hands! Only feet! And if you score, you have to slide into the puddle!”

“You’re mad!” Tom shrieked, but a wide grin split his face. His white socks were now almost entirely brown, squelching audibly with every step.

Ross clapped Ryan on the back. “They’re going to get an earful from Mrs. Davies. *Hah-hah-hah!*”

“Worth it,” Ryan chuckled, already unbuttoning his own blazer. “Looks like fun, actually.”

Liam dodged a tackle from Ady, then lunged, his white socks slipping on the slick grass. He launched the ball towards the goal. It soared, a perfect arc, straight into the puddle.

“GOAL!” he screamed, then slid, a long, glorious streak of mud following him as he plunged face-first into the brown water. “*WHOOOOOSH!*”

Harry, laughing, kicked off his remaining shoe. “My turn!” He too, was soon caked in mud, his white socks indistinguishable from the earth.

Even Dominic, caught in the infectious energy, hesitated. Josh, already halfway to the puddle, turned back. “Come on, Dominic! It’s amazing!”

Dominic looked at his spotless uniform, then at Josh’s eager face, then at the mud-caked, laughing figures. Ben and Sam, the year nine boys, had already shed their shoes and were gingerly stepping onto the field, their own white socks quickly darkening. A small, almost imperceptible smile touched Dominic’s lips. He pulled off his blazer, then his shoes, his pristine white socks a beacon for only a moment before they hit the sodden ground. Without another word, he sprinted towards the splashing figures, a wild whoop escaping his throat. “*Wahooo!*”

The rain became torrential, transforming the field into a brown, slippery expanse. Prefects Ryan and Ross, unable to resist, joined the fray, their own uniforms quickly succumbing to the mud. Shrieks and laughter filled the air, a symphony of thirteen-year-old joy. White socks turned brown, black trousers became thick with earth, and blue ties hung askew. The school bell, signaling the end of lunch, was a distant, unheard chime, lost in the glorious, muddy chaos. Their faces, streaked with mud and rain, glowed with pure, unadulterated fun.

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