The Score

Chapter 2

"Give Ne Novacaine"

- Green Day

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Rose's head slipped out of her palm just as gravity took it's course, smacking the table with her forehead loud enough to wake her and rest of the class up.

Everyone either chortled or jumped. Even Professor Norbury.

"Excuse me!" screeched Professor Norbury. Slowly, Rose lifted her head from the table, her cheeks a glowing and vivid red. "Am I cutting into nap time, Miss . . ."

"Quentin. Rose Quentin." she finished for him.

Norbury pushed his thin round wire glasses back onto his bird like nose. "If you do not possess the attention span for this class, don't even bother showing up." he spat and Rose shrank in her seat.

The bell rang and everyone started to pile out of the classroom.

And she was glad, because at the end of the day was soccer practice.

She lived for soccer. It was the only thing that could hold her attention for two hours.

Everyone called her the star, but she never believed that. Everyone said that the new assistant coach was hot, too.

That she believed.

***

RJ flinched as the short, balding man with a sour face next to him blew his whistle loud enough for a fucking opera singer to go deaf. Homer Whitey was loud, outspoken, and a little obnoxious, but he was one damn good soccer coach.

When RJ got a call from Whitey he knew there was a catch. Everyone knew Whitey meant business. And RJ was ecstatic when Whitey offered him a job.

His dream job.

The fact that he had a "dream job" made him sound like a socially awkward 16 year old school boy, but his

"dream job" is to be a soccer coach at his old college: University of Virginia.

And there was no way in hell he would turn down the offer. Of course he had to be a professor, too. So Whitey got him a gig as the part time substitute sports journalism lecturer in the South Hall. So here he was, dressed in a gray shirt with "University of Virginia Soccer" in red letters, black sweat pants, and beat up sneakers, with his dark blonde hair in a crew cut and his face bearing a Five O'clock shadow.

His life was falling into place.

"Line up!" Whitey shouted at the girls piling out of the locker room, making RJ flinch yet again. They made their way across the field. Most of the girls started to whisper and giggle behind their hands. One girl with dirty blonde hair high on her head in a bun even winked at him.

It took everything in him not to laugh.

Whitey blew the whistle again. "Alright, enough with the chatter!" he snapped and everyone fell silent, while RJ crossed his arms over his chest. Whitey waved his clipboard at RJ. "This is Ri--"

"RJ Pruitt." RJ cut in, while Whitey literally rolled his eyes.

"Your such a damn wuss when it comes to names." he said under his breath and RJ just smiled down at him. "Anyway like he said this RJ he's our new assistant coach for this season. He's gonna be teaching writing down at South Hall. He was a student here, what?: four years ago. So I offered him at spot here as a coach." He paused looking for something to say then began again saying: "I hate speeches so RJ start talking, because I have to go ... do something-- just talk." He waved his hand at them and walked away.

The girls laughed and RJ grinned. All the girls took a step foreword and RJ started to feel very uncomfortable.

"Um, so yeah. I'll be coaching alongside Whitey, who just left me in the dust to talk to you. So why don't we start with names." he said uneasily.

The blonde gave an award winning smile and batted her eyelashes. "Meagan Raleigh"

And all the girls went down the line telling their names as RJ tried his best to remember.

But one girl in the back, with a voice so small caught his attention.

"Rose."

It was like a whisper and his head snapped to the woman with straight brown hair and large eyes. Her focus was on the rest of the girls talking. Her face was angelic almost. He had seen more beautiful woman, but her eyes caught his attention.

Suddenly her eyes snapped to his. He just held her gaze. She lifted an eyebrow then furrowed his forehead.

"Hello?" said a voice

His was pulled out of his thoughts to the girl named Meagan. "Hm?"

"I asked if we should start warm up."

"Oh," his eyes lingered back to the girl. "Yeah, sounds good."

All the girls walked to field to start their jogging.

Throughout the warmup he watched her. Although it was creepy and somewhat stalker-ish he couldn't stop from looking at her. She wore her hair in a simple ponytail with a pink headband and had two earlobe piercings on both ears and one cartilage on her right.

They did complicated drills RJ had never seen and she seemed to be doing very well.

"Scrimmage." RJ finally said, when they went to get water. "I just wanna see positions and you technical skills so nominate captains and pick teams." He told the team.

His gaze went back to the girl, but she never held his stare for long.

"The hell are you doing?" Whitey said coming alongside him while they girls take the field.

"Scrimmaging. I wanna see how they play." RJ replied calmly.

He noticed that the girl was a foreword and she was fast. She scored twice for her team and another assist.

"Whitey, whose the forward for this this team?" He asked.

"Hm? Oh, you've got a good eye. That's Rose Quentin. She's our star forward. Broke like four UV records her sophomore year. I think she's a junior, majoring in reporting or something."

"Huh? And her name is Rose, right?" he repeated.

"Yep, the star."