knocked me down

chapter six

myra POV

The time ticked over fast and before I knew it, I had to be getting ready. I've never been in a sort of management position, especially in sports so finding an outfit was an experience. I rummaged through my chest of drawers, scrambling to find something as I needed to leave soon if I wanted to be on time.

Eventually I found a pink yoga body suit I used to wear. It's slowly getting closer to winter so I slipped into some loose sweatpants and added a white shrug to ensure that my arms wouldn't get cold. I threw on a pair of white sneakers and walked out of my room. Astrid making herself dinner, glancing my way as I entered the room. "You look like you're going to pilates." She said as she turned around to the stove. I rolled my eyes as I went and grabbed my water bottle from the fridge. "I didn't know what to wear, okay?" I responded, picking up my lip gloss and phone. "I didn't mean that in a bad way. You look good." I gave her a quick smile before heading into the bathroom, throwing my hair in a slick back ponytail as fast as possible. I raced past her, picked up my keys and waved her a goodbye before rushing out the door.

As I stepped out of the building, it was colder than usual for this time of the year. I took a flight of stairs down to the underground parking garage and spotted my little white car at the end. I almost broke out into a jog from how fast I was walking to it. I didn't want to be late; that's a terrible first impression. I started the engine and used my keycard to open the boom gates, then took a left on the road to head to the arena. I rarely use my car simply because everything is in walking distance. The only times I use it is in winter when it's too cold to be outside for more than five minutes and when I drive to my parents house.

I took a few more turns before pulling into the parking out the front of the arena that occupies the large space behind campus. Conveniently, there's a tote bag in my back seat in which I can put all my stuff that I brought with me. I take a look at it and it's got a big pink bow design on it. Cute. I climb out of my small car and place my bag on my shoulder. I head towards the entrance of the building, already hearing shoes scuffing around on the court. Am I late? I grab my phone to look at the time, 5:50pm. I take a sigh of relief as I pull open one of the two sets of the glass doors. I see figures moving around fast up and down the court and as soon as I open the second set of doors, everything comes into focus.

All eyes in the building turn to me, except my dads as he's talking to a player. I'm guessing they don't normally have girls in here or something cause no one seemed to be moving. That changes when my dad finally spots me, and calls out. Everyone starts doing whatever they were previously doing when I walked in and I paced over to where my dad was standing. I stood right by his side and scanned my eyes over each player on the team. The first person that my eyes were dragged to is that guy that's been obsessing over Astrid even though they haven't talked. I still don't know his name since he's never bothered with telling me. I've seen a couple of the other guys on campus before but most of them, I've never seen. Finally, my eyes land on a familiar figure standing below the hoop, rebounding for his teammates. I recognise him from that party we went to; he helped Astrid. I'm still very thankful for him but he probably doesn't remember me. Our interaction was brief after all.

"Let's introduce you then." I hear my dad say for only me to hear before he makes the whole team join us off the court. Some boys sit on the bench, but most stand up. "Everyone, this is my daughter, Myra. She'll be our temporary team manager until we find a permanent replacement." I hear a few hellos come from the group and see a few pair of eyes, looking me up and down. I give everyone a rushed smile before pursing my lips, unsure if my dad wants me to say something or not. "Anyone got questions for her?" Well great. I was hoping that no one would have questions but a number of hands raised at the opportunity. My dad didn't pick anyone, allowing me to pick whose question I want to hear. I pointed at one of the boys sitting on the bench, deep brown hair messy over his green eyes.