Emily
‘I wanna smell like roses, Not a baseball team.’
Yuck.
Dirty, smelly, yucky socks, shirts and God knows what else have all been thrown on the floor. I don’t know why I have to share this changing room with the guys. I mean, hello? I’m female.
Surely I deserve to have my own changing room?
Apparently not.
The boys are in the showers, drowning their sorrows as we’ve just been humiliatingly beaten by Rick and Max. The gits. I have to wait while the boys wash, before I can have a shower myself.
It smells of sweat and men in here.
Which means that, even though I’m going to have a shower once they’re all done, I’ll still smell of sweat and men, too. Unless I can add my feminine touch to this room… Hmmm…
I’m rummaging around in my bag for some perfume I got for my birthday. I’m sure I put it in here! Ah yes, there it is. I’ve squirted it about a bit, onto the boys’ clothes and in the air. Everything in here smells nice, sweet and flowery now.
Just how I want to smell.
Because I do not want to smell of sweat and men.
“Good God! What the Hell is that smell?!” Michael exclaims as he and the rest of the team walk out from their showers, completely naked. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.
“I made the place smell nice,” I shrugged, honestly not seeing the problem.
“You made it smell nice for a girl. We are not girls. We are men!” Michael argued.
I’m honestly not seeing what’s wrong here. As the boys all get dressed, very annoyed and walk out, I thank God that I at least smell nice. Maybe one day, I’ll meet a nice lad, who loves computers as much as I do, and maybe has a bit of interest in tennis…
… And who doesn’t smell like my team-mates.
