Coached [Harry Styles]

Prologue

"Mamá, but I don't want you to go!" the young girl cries, clutching onto her mom's hand and placing her face on her hip. She rubs her wet cheeks across the edge of her mom's wool coat and sighs.

"Sweetie, listen." The mom gently coaxes the small, shy girl from her leg and bends down so their faces are at the same height. "I will be back in just a few days to get you. Look around," She gestures to all of the boys and girls already running around the 3 large indoor soccer fields. "Everyone is having so much fun, as will you, once you let go of my hand."

The girl hesitantly releases her grip and her bottom lip begins to wobble.

"No, don't you start that again, Gabriella! Once you start playing your favorite sport you won't even remember that I am gone. Plus, I will only be a few hours away visiting with your aunts and uncles. You worked so hard to get the chance to fly all the way over here to England, use it correctly, mija [my daughter]." She runs her finger underneath both of her daughter's dripping eyes to catch the fallen tears.

A small smile forms on her lips, and she nods a few times, understanding. "I know, you are right. But I'm scared," she begins to cry again and her mom pulls her in for a tight hug.

"What could you possibly be scared of, Gabs?" She pats her daughter's back as a whistle blows, signaling all the kids to join the main coaches on field one.

"That I won't be as good as everyone else!" She responds dramatically, stomping her foot in protest.

"You are one of the best soccer players I have ever seen for your age. Just try your very best and I promise you will do fine." She rubs the girl's hair for few more seconds. "I have to go now." Small arms wrap around her mom one last time as she whispers goodbye.

Mrs. Ventura watches with pride as her 9 year old daughter runs towards the field with her soccer bag in hand and two long black ponytails bouncing along with her.

Each day, the young girl comes back to the fields more excited than the practice before. Her brown eyes light up with joy each time she makes a shot and her newly found friends cheer excitedly for her. The coaches watch, impressed, and even give her high fives.

She fails to notice the older male player with curly brown hair and green eyes who stares at her from a distance every time she is up to kick the ball. His gaze holds no lust or romantic feelings, solely adoration and awe.

He stands with the rest of the 16 year old athletes, but none of them have captured his attention quite like her. As he lies in bed at night, he thinks nonstop about her natural talent and the way that her pigtails bounce around with her as she kicks the ball into the net.

On the last day of practice, Gabriella is too excited to see her mom and tell her that she had helped her team win the tournament. With her hair flinging in every direction out of the ponytails, she runs toward her mom with open arms, but abruptly runs into someone.

"Ouch," she says, frowning and looking up at her spot from the ground. Her eyes are met with ones that resemble the color of a forest and she wonders why her eyes are so boring in comparison. The green eyes widen and the boy quickly apologizes, offering a hand, but he is shooed away by the young girl's mother.

He turns away from her, but not without taking one more glance back at the girl's innocent, now smiling, face. That smile could light up the whole world, he thinks to himself.

Hoping that he will somehow, someday, be able to see her again, he vows to never forget the girl with the wild hair and beautiful smile.

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Thank you for reading :)