Grey Skies

Chapter 4

Small note at the end!! Enjoy!!

Chapter Four

I'm unsure of how I should respond. I rake my brain and try to sort out the thousand possibilities roaming through it but fail miserably. I want to ask him how the hell he knows. If he's been stalking me this entire time. I want to ask him why he waited this long to tell me that he knew. Why he waited for me to stumble over my words trying to explain it to him before he pitched in and told me that he already knew what I wanted to say. I want to know why he felt like it was his problem or responsibility to look after me even when I was no longer there. Most of all, I want to tell him that I was just joking about it all--there was no injury and in fact, I feel better than ever.

I decide to just go with What? because it isn't specific enough and he could possibly answer all of my questions without me even having to ask.

"I know about your injury," he says again.

"No I know that, but what I mean is what?"

He looks at me questionably, with his mouth slightly open, and his eyes darting across my face. It takes him several moments before he finally understands what I mean, or at least, he thinks he understands what I mean. "I've known about your injury since you got it," he says and I give him a look, "come on Iris. I've been your coach for how long? You expect me not to keep tabs on you?"

No one asked you to, I almost want to say, and you're not my coach anymore. Instead I say, "how?"

"David, your coach, and I keep in touch. We have each other's number and on the night of your injury he called me to let me know. We continued to talk after that, and until the day that he told me that you decided to leave the team."

The look he gives me as he says this is obvious. He's disappointed and even a little angry. I almost ask why but stop myself because I don't want to hear him complain. I don't want to hear I told you so and I dont want to hear how stupid I am for not going to get my ankle checked out when I had the time to. Why I didn't go to the doctor when I should have. When I was still okay. Instead of only going when it was the last thing waiting for me.

He shakes his head, takes his cap off, and runs his fingers through his hair. The sight of him like this annoys me so I can't help but ask anyway. "What now?"

He looks over at me, debating if he should say anything at all. Debating whether he wants to deal with a bomb going off, a bomb he knew all too well: Iris Grey. "Look Grey, you know what I'm going to say. You should have known better. You should have known when your body couldn't take it anymore and you shouldn't have ever put anything over your own health. Soccer isn't everything Iris," he says. "How many times have I told you that?"

I drop my arms to my side and look away from him. The girls are still playing on the field beside us and I wanted so badly to walk over and grab the ball, and kick at Davis as hard as I could. He was right, I knew what he was going to say. It was just like Davis to say something of that sort. To show that he's always the right one and that it would be smart of me to listen once in a while. I decide that I'm just wasting my time here, listening to him ramble about something I could care less about. Soccer is in my past. He is in my past.

I turn for my car without giving even the smallest of goodbyes. I make it nearly five feet before his hand wraps around my arm and brings me back. I try to pull away, but his strength supercedes mine so I stand in place, my back toward him and my eyes staring at the birds flying overhead, thinking about how nice it must be up there. To fly whenever you want without someone trying to hold you back. They could watch the entire world, and if they didn't like what was going on, they could just move and look elsewhere.