Wonderwall

Chapter 1

The sound of a horn honking rips me out of sleep.

Groggy, I roll over, peering at my cheap clock taped to the wall.

8:33AM

Oh god.

I'm late. I was supposed to be on the subway by now!

Panicked, I fall out of bed, ditching the shower, and frantically pull on a pair of Goodwill jeans and a beige pushup bra with a white t-shirt. I shove my feet in my black converse, panicked, throwing my hair into a ponytail.

I cannot mess this up. I've gone through too much to mess this up!

I'm completely dirt broke. I'm just scraping to keep this apartment.

I grab a few pieces of bread and turn on the tap, leaning down, I gulp the water coming from the faucet. I shut the faucet off, shoving the bread down my throat. I run out of my crummy apartment, locking the door, and I sprint down the stairs. I go out to the street, flagging down a taxi.

I hate taxis. I avoid them at all costs.

A driver stops though, and I get in.

"Where to?" he asks.

"The Yankee Stadium!" I say, breathless. "I'll literally pay you extra if you speed." I add.

He nods.

I shut the door.

He slams down on the gas.

It takes ten minutes.

When we pull up, I shoot forward to look at the clock.

9:03.

I'm late.

I hand the guy a twenty and get out, running.

The guard at the door stares at me.

"Are you here for tryouts?" he asks.

"Yes." I say.

He stares at me.

"You're a girl."

I look down at my body.

"Yes. I know."

He hesitates.

"Alright. I'll let coach decide what to do with you. You're late anyways."

I sigh, following him.

I ditch my things in the dugout, following him out onto the field where the Yankee team is waiting, and where there is a line of tall and short and muscular and attractive guys waiting to tryout.

The guard gestures for me to follow him.

Everyone stares at me.

There's over fifty guys here including the team and the coach.

I'm the only girl.

All the guys are staring.

I ignore their eyes.

The guard walks over to the coach.

"What's the problem?" the coach asks.

I've done a ton of research about the Yankees. I know who every single person on the team is and who they play, their relationship status and everything.

The coach is named Joseph Foster. Everyone just calls him Coach.

"This girl said she's here to tryout." He says.