Punchbag - Calum Hood (5sos) Alternate Universe [ON HOLD]

2: cassidy

2: someday - nickelback

= [unedited]

©assidy

"We have 15 people signed up now," my dad grabbed a bunch of paper off the desk and put it in a Filofax. "That too tough for you, Cassidy?"

I laughed. "Teaching 15 teenage boys to punch? That's not what I'm worried about. I just can't wait to see their faces when they find out I'm a girl."

My dad chuckled. "You say that every year, Cas."

"I'm home!" My sister, Rachel, shouted up the stairs. I was currently standing in the study, or the spare bedroom, helping my dad prepare for tomorrow. He runs the local sports centre, and we were starting up the boxing club again. I'm not a natural sportswoman, and it took me a while to find something I excelled at. I punched a boy called Jason McDonnerly when I was 11 years old, and my dad suggested boxing.

Rachel came bounding up the stairs, her heels clacking on the wooden flooring we had upstairs. "What's all this?"

"Boxing starts up tomorrow!" I yelled excitedly.

She raised an eyebrow. "I know, you've not stopped talking about it. I meant the mess."

"Application forms, permission slips, subs calculations, need I go on?" Dad joked.

Rachel nodded. "I'm going out tonight, it's Jemima's 18th at the pear tree, I should be back before 11, Jem's such a lightweight."

"Okay, love," dad said, smoothing down the papers. "15 people have signed up, can you believe it? Do you think you'll know any of them, Cas?"

"Dad, I'm homeschooled, I sincerely doubt it," I laughed, but I couldn't help but wish I did know some of them. Mum insisted I was homeschooled; that was the deal when my parents separated. I'm glad that meant we all got to stay with dad for the majority of the time, though, because my mother does not understand me at all. Fortunately, I only go over to hers every other weekend. My other two sisters are over 18, which means the custody terms don't apply to them anymore. I have to get 2 buses and a train to mum's house. I hate public transport.

The phone rang, and dad raced to get it before it went to voicemail. That indicated it was Julia, because she never hangs on until voicemail. And she doesn't call as often as she should. When I'm a professional boxer, I'll phone dad every week to tell him what's going on, and to tell him I love him. We're lucky if Julia phones every other month.

Rachel rolled her eyes at me, noticing how happy dad sounded when he heard her voice. Rachel hates sports, and I feel bad for her, because she lacks the natural talent, like me. She prefers make up, music and studying. An odd combination, she's doing online university training in music. She wants to be a music teacher.

"Do you two want to speak to Julia?" Dad's eyes sparkled at the mention of his eldest daughter's name.

"Sure," I shrugged, and he handed me the phone. "Hello?"

"Rachel?" Julia sounded bored. "Is that Rachel, or Cas?"

"It's Cassidy." I said, irritated. "How's life?"

"Training, training and more training," she groaned, and I sympathised with her. She's a gymnast, and for a short while, so was I, so I know how draining it is. Still, it's not hard to pick up the phone once a week.

"I feel you, Jules. Do you know if you're in the first team squad yet?"

"Not till Tuesday." She replied, and there was an awkward silence. I'm much closer to Rachel than Julia. "Do you want to pass me back to dad?"