She continued. “You know, our team is supposed to be –”
Rutledge rolled his eyes. “The team doesn’t matter. We can’t score.”
Angelina whirled to glare at him. “How can you say that, Matthew?”
Rutledge said, “You’re not the bloody captain; don’t be pretentious.”
Angelina sighed. “We can’t bicker away the final match of the World Cup!”
Matthew scowled. “Well, maybe if you’d stop bossing everyone around, we’d stop bickering, wench!”
Fred and George stepped towards the Chaser. Angelina held up a hand.
“No, guys, I’ll handle it. What do you think of me, exactly, Rutledge?” Her voice was cold.