Norman Reedus One Shots

Coach

The amount of wolf-whistles I was getting was almost making my head spin. I tried to hide everything but there was only so much I could do in a co-Ed locker room. Usually I would get in and get out, no if-ands-or-buts about it. But today was brutal, the hot Georgia sun decided to not be on my good side as my weight training teacher made us do drills outside today.

I scrubbed the sweat and grime away from my body fast as possible, trying and succeeding to not look at any of the masculine parts around me.

If you're confused I'm a girl, in a high school locker room shower filled with 24 other guys. Thankfully the small step-in cubical covers my butt and most private area but my breast were on full display to those around me.

This is how bad my life sucks.

Since I am the only girl on the roster for 7th period weight training, the janitors lock the regular girls locker room after 6th period. The boys locker room is locked after 5th period and before 6th period because 6th period is an all girls Female Yoga Fitness class. Therefore the only locker room that's open after 7th period is the co-Ed one. The one where most of the groping and fondling takes place and even where some of the sluttier girls and more sexually driven boys have quickies between class.

Then here I am, the only girl in this whole class trying to avoid stares and growls coming from all of the guys around me. Of course since this is a weight training class all the guys around me participate in some sort of sport. Football, basketball, wrestling, swimming, lacrosse. So basically, I'm in a shower full of high school gods. But I have to ignore the fact that they're only looking at me because I'm- well, naked.

Too soon for the liking of the male population in this locker room I'm shutting off my water, wrapping my towel very tightly around my body and leaving the showers. A wave of "aw's" and "so soon's" following my exit.

While the boys are still occupied showering, I quickly get dressed which is something I usually take to the stalls. I slip on my sports bra and underwear, a light blue Nike tank top and black running shorts. I put my socks back on, sitting on the bench to make sure they don't get drenched from water before I put my running shoes on as well.

I lock up my gym shoes, deodorant, lotion and perfume that I keep here at all times because of this stupid class and make my way to the doors just as Chad Long is coming out of the showers. May I mind you that the towel was wrapped around his neck not his waist.

Shaking the memory from my brain I stomp off to my coaches office. Yes I said coach. The man that teaches my weight training class is also my volleyball and lacrosse coach. I swear the man hates me.

Reaching his door I bang on it until I hear one angry "Come in". Entering the room I close the door behind me as I cross my arms over my chest as I look at Coach Reedus in a disgusted manor.

"Someone looks grumpy." He teases me. "Wait, why's your hair wet?" He asks, looking at me almost astonished.

"Because you made us run two miles, box jumps, rope work and sprints in the oh so sweet sun." I said very sarcastically, scoffing as he gave me a smirk in return.

"You actually showered? You went into the showers with 24 other male students? I must say I am very impressed Ms. Hendrix." That's a first.

This man has been my coach for 4 years when it comes to sports. Freshman year, I was in his Physical Fitness class. Sophomore, Health. Junior, Sexual Education and now as a Senior I'm in his Weight Training class where I swear he wants me to have a heat stroke. But the point is, he's been around my whole High School career and he's never once said that he's proud of me.

"You better keep those leg muscles loose, we wouldn't want the Varsity Lacrosse Captain losing her spot now would we?" He gives me a devious glare, recalling memories from Freshman year.