Day 4; a hit and run

A girl on my team is a little nutty. There is always one. She is the girl that cheats. We haven't had one official game (or match if you want to be British about it), and yet I know that she will break every rule there is to win. She cheats her won teammates in practice. She is far too aggressive, and almost every girl on the team has a bruise on her arm to prove it.

Well she offered to drive me and my roommates home after practice because she is actually nice. We say "hell to the yeah" because after four hours of preseason, we were far to tired to do that long ass walk up hill to our crappy little house. Day three of our free ride took a neat turn. It was a hard left into a big black van.

(every car in England looks like this one)

She, too concerned with the bumpin jams blarring our her speakers, did not look behind her as she slammed on the gas in reverse, and we hit the car parked next to us before we even left the field (or pitch).

We get out and examine the hit car- huge ass gash stretching 2 feet long and 2 inches thick. We inspect her car; only the glass to her tail light was broken. Upon hearing this news, She hurriedly tells us to get back in the car and speeds away. We ask if she should leave her info, and she said, "Oh yeah, but it makes more sense to take you home first." All the passengers (3 of us cuz cars in Europe cannot fit much more than that) silently agree that we were just apart of a hit and run accident our first week in this country.

She swears she left her information on a note on the van, but he has not contacted her yet. If her on field morality is any example of how she lives her life, she left no such note. She also never drove us home again.