Chapter Text
“Hey, Ney!” -
“Bom dia, Neymar!”-
“How are you man?”-
Neymar waved them all as he ran across the halls, it was the third time this month he got late to Mr. Dunga’s classes, and the man had already a misguided hate towards him so Neymar didn’t really need to give him more reasons. He opened the door slowly and silently walked in.
“Ah, Mr. da Silva, never disappointing my low expectations of you,” the teacher said, not turning from the blackboard. Across the classroom he saw Oscar rolling his eyes, and moving his backpack from the seat he always saved Neymar.
He silently sat with a sigh. “Are you starting some sort of game with him now?” Oscar whispered to him once he adjusted on his seat.
“My dad’s truck broke again, Oscar, I’m not starting anything,” he refuted. “What are we on?” he asked, opening his notebook. Oscar looked away, at the blackboard, and wrote down something on his notebook.
“Human reproduction,” he replied, writing. Neymar rose his eyebrows, grinning.
“Ah, that’s interesting,” he said, writing the date on his notebook and peeking at Oscar’s notes.
“Gay sex doesn’t count as reproduction, you know?” Oscar remarked, almost bitterly. It wasn’t news Neymar casually rathered guys over girls. He overlooked Neymar’s expression for a brief second and then back on the board.
“Hey, I have non-gay sex, too,” he said, shrugging.
“Please do tell me more about all the sex you have, Neymar,” Oscar said, annoyed.
“You need sex,” Neymar muttered to himself, not meeting Oscar’s eyes, that were glaring back at him.
He wasn’t sure when the frustration at Neymar’s over-sharing mouth started, but truth be told Oscar’s stomach did a weird thing every time his best friend started talking about his casual “dates” and “encounters”. It’s not that Neymar was a man-whore, but he hardly kept it in his pants from time to time, and after that, he hardly kept the information from Oscar – who, again, didn’t really need to know.
They were walking down the halls, right after the bell rang and they were out of that hell-class, and Neymar kept talking about his weekend, and of course, Bruna Marquezine.
“Yo’, guys,” David Luiz said loudly, hugging them from behind. Oscar smiled at him.
“Hey, Davi.”
“Hey, man. What’s with the loving?” Neymar asked, chuckling.
“Well, it’s trials day, we’re seeing new faces, you know how I am,” he replied, releasing the boys from his grip and walking in front of them, facing them as he spoke, “I enjoy the little things of life,” he informed, opening his arms widely.
“I see. So, it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s Thiago’s first day as Captain and you’ll get to stare at him for the whole day,” Neymar quirked one eyebrow and Oscar chuckled from his side.
David shrugged. “I do that every day, anyway. Today, I’m just proud of the guy, so you two keep it shut,” he asked, pointing them with his finger.
They entered the cafeteria and Neymar went to their table, while Oscar went to get food with David stepping behind his feet.
“So?” he asked at his ear. Oscar grabbed a plate and a stray and wished for the best.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, frowning both at David’s question and at the questionable food in front of him. He didn’t even bother to glare at the lunch lady, there was no point.
“Are you joining the team or what?” David asked straight, eyebrows still but smile hopeful.
“Didn’t we go through this already?” Oscar sighed, walking towards the table, where Dani and Marcelo had already started a food-fight. David stood in front of him, blocking.
“What’s so wrong with football?” he asked, almost pouting, it was a funny thing to see.
“It’s not that. I have other things to focus on,” he answered, trying to move past his friend, and neighbor.
“So, you’ll do them, too. Thiago has great grades, and he’s team captain,” he offered, raising both eyebrows. Oscar rolled his eyes.
It’s not that he thought he sucked, he just didn’t think of it as something for him—it works for Neymar, sure, Dani and David and all of them, they’re great, but what did poor skinny Oscar had to bring to the table? Awkwardness and shyness, probably.
He moved his head to one side. “I’ll think about it,” he lied. David didn’t buy it, obviously, but he dropped it. They sat silently next to each other. Marcelo and Dani were fighting over a TV show.
“Hey, what do you think it’s going on?” Neymar whispered to David’s ear, pointing with his chin at the scene across the room.
Coach Scolari was talking to Thiago, in a very light tone and looking concerned. Thiago kept gazing at Neymar and then driving his sight somewhere else, looking worried as well. There were several nods from Thiago and then a pat on the shoulder. Scolari left through the door and Thiago rubbed the back of his head, slowly walking towards them.
“You two. Shut it!” David called Marcelo and Dani, who frowned at him. “Hey, what happened?” he asked calmly at a silent Thiago.
Thiago was looking at the floor beneath him still rubbing the back of his head. “It’s—it’s you, Ney,” he said, looking at Neymar, sitting in front of him. “Dunga told Scolari you’re failing his class, and members of the school’s football team cannot have grades lower than B-,” he explained, annoyed.
Neymar swallowed. “Agh, fuck!” he yelled, dropping his drink. “I knew that guy’d find a way to screw me over,” he muttered.
“But are you failing his class or not?” Bernard asked, from the other side of the table.
“I don’t know!”
“That’s not important,” Thiago said, sitting next to Neymar. He looked at him in the eyes. “Do you think there’s a way you can raise your grades to a B-?”
“No!” he replied, frowning hard. “Thiago, this dude wants my head, there’s nothing—
“Actually, there’s a test coming next week,” Oscar interrupted. Neymar turned to him in light-speed.
“What?”
“Well, that just answered the question of why he’s failing,” Marcelo muttered, and Neymar glared at him for a second.
“Can you help Ney get his grades up before the next game in three weeks, Oscar?” Thiago asked, all commanding voice and kind heart.
“Of course,” he didn’t even hesitate. Neymar whined as he dropped his head to the table, soundly.
“Everything sucks so much.” But at least he had Oscar.