Score •• louis a.u.

chapter 14

As soon as I stop running I fall to the turf, my vision blurry and my head spinning.

“Take it easy, Trey. I don’t need you blacking out on the field,” John calls, whistle in his mouth. I wave dismissively back at him and try to catch my breath. My jaw doesn’t hurt as badly as it did on Monday and the bruise is starting to change colour. Slowly, I ease myself into a squatting position, head squeezed between my hands.

“You alright coach?” Sam asks, running over to me. I manage to look up at him and nod and he gives me a concerned look before jogging away. I guess you can say you’ve made progress. He hates you a lot less now. I laugh quietly to myself and try to stand up.

“Oh shit,” I whisper as I tilt sideways.

“Trey!” Angel sprints from center field and takes my head in his hands, stooping to look me in the eyes. I try to focus on him but my breathing is becoming more ragged and unstable and I’m having trouble forming thoughts.

“I’m—good,” I say after a while.

“Don’t give me that. I’ll grab you some water.”

Before I can protest, Angel thrusts a water bottle into my mouth and starts pouring it down my throat. I choke a little but manage to push him away.

“I’m ok,” I growl, wiping my chin.

“You don’t look ok.”

“But I am. I can see better and I’m not dizzy anymore,” I argue. It’s true. My breathing is slowly returning to normal and I don’t feel like I’m going to keel over. Dehydration.

“Then come on.” Angel puts his arm around my shoulders and walks with me toward center field where John has assembled the team.

“…trip. This year, I’ve decided on camping.”

I catch the tail end of what John is saying and I freeze in my tracks.

“Camping?” I choke out, making an inhuman noise.

Twenty-two heads swivel toward me and I shrink under their synchronization.

“Yes. Every year since I started coaching, before the matches begin, I’ve taken all of my players and coaches on a retreat. Think of it as…team bonding,” John grins at me, oblivious to the lasers being shot at me from the majority of the lads. Most of them have not softened the least bit toward me.

“Coaches?” I squeak.

John’s grin widens. “Yeah! You’ll be there as well, Trey, don’t you worry.”

I simply nod and fiddle with the hem of my jersey mentally cursing him out. Shut the hell up! You’ll be spending some alone time with Louis. Out in the forest. Secluded. Alone. With Louis.

“Shut up!” I yell, realizing too late that I voiced it aloud. Eyes bore into me and I clear my throat and refuse to look at them.

“Where are we camping then?” Marc asks. I sigh in relief as the attention is removed from me.

“Setthorns Campsite,” John replies. I start.

“That’s bloody two hours away! Not including traffic!” I protest. All I get is a shrug and I’m infuriated. If he thinks I am going to sit in a car for two fucking hours with God knows who, he is dead wrong.

“We’ll be taking a bus from here so don’t worry about your cars. We leave on Saturday so I suggest you start packing as soon as you get home. We get back next Thursday because Saturday is the first match. No practice tomorrow. Dismissed.” John finishes curtly and everyone streams down the field toward the locker rooms. I wait until everyone is out of earshot before I approach John.