Same Team

Ch.4- Make up Practice

Nicki's P.O.V.

The school day was long as hell, and boring as fuck.

Now I have to go deal with this bitch for a make up work out too. I swear on everything if she gets up in my shit one more damn time I'm swinging.

Yes I have... Not the friendliest bruise on my arm, but who the fuck just grabs someone like that! Plus it's none of her business anyways.

I made my way to the locker room and of course met Ayesha along the way.

We talked about nothing in general, it wasn't until I reached the locker room and began changing did she realize I wouldn't be leaving with her.

"Why are you changing?"

"Make-up work out." I rolled my eyes.

"Oh yeah. How come you weren't here this morning?" I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Had things to do."

She nodded.

"Ok well, good luck with this, I hope she doesn't kill you. Bye Nick."

"Bye girl." I spoke as I gave her hug.

She left, and I finished putting on my shoes. Standing in the mirror I pulled my hair up into a ponytail before I left the locker room.

As slow as I possibly could I walked to the gym not ready for whatever the hell she has planned.

When I reached the doors, I pushed passed them, and sure enough she stood there waiting with that stupid ass clip board.

"Hope you had a good day. Start off with a stadium."

I sighed before taking off to the bleachers and starting my stadium.

I fucking hate these things. I have to run up and down every single step there is in the varsity gym, and it's pretty damn big.

About half way through my run turned into a very, very slow jog.

Of course coach Knowles had some annoying Shit to say about that.

"Onika! Pick it up!" she shouted.

"You didn't come here to just walk up and down some damn steps!" I rolled my eyes and continued to keep my same pace.

I'm not budging an inch more than I have to for this bitch.

Once I finished, I walked over to her, lightly out of breath.

She eyed me with her arms crossed before speaking.

"Give me a suicide."

"What! I'm tired-"

She cut me off chuckling.

"There's no way in hell you're tired, not by the way you just took your time walking those bleachers. Now get on the base line." She nodded her head towards.

If this woman were anything else but my main coach I would be fighting her ass right now, no lie.

I swear she doesn't even like me for no reason. Sure sometimes I have an attitude, but I don't know what the fuck I did to her, or why she's always so damn sour.

Standing on the baseline, I looked up towards the led clock on the wall that lit up with a waiting 28 seconds. My eyes grew wide.

"I'm not gonna make it." I shook my head hopelessly speaking more so to myself.

"Well you better try." she said, before starting off the clock, and I took off for the suicide.

I sprinted as fast as I could, from baseline, to quarter, to baseline to, halfline to, baseline, to 3rd quarter, to baseline, to baseline on the other end, back to the starting baseline. But it wasn't fast enough as the buzzer hit zero and sounded off just before I could catch the end of the court.