SMUT WARNING || NSFW
In the midst of college life, Jade Holland discovers her father's betrayal, sending her world into chaos. Determined to reclaim her power, she finds herself entangled with a star player on her father's lacrosse team, igniting a...
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Garrison
The vibration of my phone yanked me out of sleep. I groaned, squinting against the light streaming through the blinds. My phone sat face-up on the nightstand, screen glowing with a notification.
Coach Holland: Captains meeting. My office. 10 a.m.
I frowned, rubbing my eyes as the clock registered in my brain. 9:03 a.m.
"Crap." I shot out of bed, adrenaline kicking in.
My legs got tangled in the blanket, and I nearly face-planted on the way to the bathroom. I twisted the shower knob all the way to hot, hoping it'd heat up fast. It didn't. Ice-cold water hit me like a slap, but I didn't have time to wait.
"Captains meeting," I muttered to myself, scrubbing shampoo out of my hair.
By the time I was out and dressed, I'd barely had time to run a hand through my wet hair. I jogged downstairs, skipping steps to save seconds, and rounded the corner into the kitchen.
John sat at the table in his boxers, head bent over a bowl of cereal. Milk dribbled down his chin as he slurped another spoonful.
"Dude," I said, grabbing my sneakers from the corner. "Why aren't you ready?"
He looked up, blinking like I'd just woken him up. "What are you talking about?"
"The captains meeting!" I jammed my feet into my shoes. "Coach texted me about it. It's at ten."
John shrugged, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. "Didn't text me."
"What do you mean? We're the captains."
"Yeah, well, maybe it's just a you captains meeting," he said, going back to his cereal.
I stared at him, confused. That didn't make sense. Did I mess something up? Was this about the fight?
"Whatever," I muttered, shaking it off. "I'll just go."
I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, my stomach knotting tighter with every step. The walk to the field house felt longer than usual, and my mind wouldn't shut up.
The last time Coach called me into his office alone, it hadn't gone great. He'd talked about "expectations" and how captains needed to set the tone for the team. And then my dumbass mentioned my dad.
I shook my head, forcing my focus back. Whatever this meeting was about, I just had to deal with it. I wasn't going to let Coach see me sweat.
By the time I reached the field house, my palms were damp, and I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears. I just hoped this wasn't about to get worse.
I pushed open the door to Coach Holland's office and immediately noticed him hunched over his desk, scribbling something in a notebook. The air in the room felt heavy, like all the oxygen had been sucked out.
