"Look, Beacon Hills has a great high school. You'll be fine." Coach says. I always call him Coach instead of 'Dad' because of his job. He coaches the Lacrosse team and let me tell you, they have some hot players. Or, so I've heard. "Yeah yeah," I say putting one earbud in. "Danielle, you can't ignore this. This is the rest of your high school career." He says while he pulls into a parking spot of the school.
"What career? It's just school, Coach." I say with the most enthusiasm I could muster up.
"How many times have I told you, Danielle? Call me 'dad'." He sighs getting out of the car.
"And how many times have I told you, Coach, call me Danny." I retort back. He just shakes his head "You know, I coach a player named Danny, it would just be weird."
"Not really," I say with an eye roll. "Follow me, we have morning practice, then you can go off to homeroom." He says motioning to the boy's locker room where his office is.
I nod and follow him. He unlocks his office, and I put my backpack down in a chair whilst I grab an extra lacrosse stick. "What do you think you're doing?" Coach asks. "Do you actually think I'm just gonna watch," I say and he just looks at me. "I'm just gonna practice scoring," I say with my one hand up in defense.
"Fine, just be careful." He says while signing some papers. I grab my duffle bag and open it up to grab a bag of balls and take them with me out to the field.
I put both of my earbuds in and start picking up the balls and shooting them into the goal at different angles.
I turn around to see Coach and the players beside him watching me. What the hell, I never even heard them come up here. Probably because I had my music up so loud.
I pull them out and turn around to see Coach talking to the players. I jog over to where they all are and put the bag of balls back into my duffel bag and the stick on the bleachers.
"So boys, this is my daughter, Danielle," Coach says gesturing to me.
I walk to his side and mock him, "And so boys this is my dad, 'coach never-gets-my-name-right'" I get a few laughs and chuckles from the boys and then speak some more "My names Danny." I wave.
"Danny, this is,"
Blah blah blah
"McCall, Whittemore, Greenberg, Lahey, and uh." He pauses and rubs his temples, "Stilinski."
I look at the last one and he has his mouth dropped open. The boy next to him, I think McCall, looks at him and puts his hand on his jaw to close it.
"Alright losers, asses on the field!" Coach yells and snaps most of them out of a trance.
I sit on the bleachers and spend most of my time on my phone. But I keep watching number 24. He kept missing the goal and tripping over his own feet. "McCall, you're in goal." He calls to one of the boys and they take the equipment being thrown at him. "I've never played," he says exasperatedly.
"I know, it'll give the boys a confidence boost. Get em fired up!" My dad says patting him on the shoulder. "Oh, and try not to take any in the face." I put my head in my hands. Oh god, here we go.
McCall gets in goal and when the whistle get blown, he starts covering his ears and freaks out. What the hell is wrong with this kid? The player up first in line throws the ball and it hits him right in the helmet.
Ouch.
I cringe, while the rest of the team, including Coach, start laughing their asses off. Stilinski seems to be cringing with me. Then, all of the sudden, McCall gets up off of the ground and firmly grasps the lacrosse stick.
The player comes up, and throws the ball, but McCall catches it. I raise my eyebrows. Even the players were confused.
It went on and I cheered for every ball that McCall caught. I still don't know most of the players first names, I know Whittemore's though. It's Jackson, he personally introduced himself, he's kind of a douchebag.
Finally, Jackson came up to the front of the line and put his stick out to stop the player that was going before him.
He takes the ball, runs, and chucks it at the goal, very hard too. Time seems to slow down and McCall catches the ball, again.
Stilinski, who I was sitting a few rows behind, jumps up and cheers. I clap and cheer with him. He looks behind him and meets eyes with me and smiles.
When practice was over, all of the boys went back to the locker room. Except for McCall and Stilinski. They were still sitting on the bench talking to each other. I walk down the bleachers and sit right behind them on purpose to hear their conversation.
"I don't know, it's like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. Maybe all of this adrenaline is getting to me before I go into shock or something."
"It could be lycanthropy,"
I drop my lacrosse stick.
They turn around and Stilinski widens his eyes. "Oh, um. Hi." He waves and stutters.
"I'm Danny," I introduce myself. "Wait, I'm such a dumbass, you guys already knew that." I chuckle nervously.
"I'm Scott," number 11 says. He pats Stilinski on the back. "And this is Stiles."
Hot damn.
"What?" Stiles widens his eyes and his face becomes bright red.
I mentally facepalm and start stuttering "I-i said that o-out loud d-didn't I"
They both nod. Stiles smiles and he blushes some more. Scott looks between the two of us. "I'm just gonna go to the locker room. Hey, Stiles, since Danny here is new, why don't you show her around." He says.
He nods his head rapidly and packs his stuff up. Scott leaves and it's just the two of us. "Let me see your schedule" Stiles demands lightly as he gestures to my backpack.
I take it out and give it to him.
He mumbles for a bit and then speaks "You have Chemistry, English, Econ, and History with Scott and I. Then, you have a free period and lunch along with gym class."
"Awesome. So, maybe I will have someone to talk to during my boring anxiety-filled school day" I say smiling at him.
"Welcome to Beacon Hills, Danny" he smiles.
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