Scoring The Coach ✔️

chapter two

Chapter Two

By the time I got to school on that first morning, my boyfriend, Mitch, was sitting in his car with his friends in the lot. He, like the rest of my friends, had gotten to school early, meaning they were all waiting by the usual hangout spot. Risa was there to meet me after my mom dropped me off, handing me my soccer bag when I reached her.

    The old thing was a good ten years old, barely held together by duct tape in more than one place, but I had used it this long. Besides, we didn't really have the money to buy a new one, so I figured it was fine. I left it at Risa's the other day when we were doing drills, so I guess she brought it to school with her.

    "Thanks," I said, swinging the duffel over my shoulder.

    "No problem," she replied. "We're going into senior year. Can't play a season without that bag."

    I nodded. "Definitely."

The rest of the soccer girls were standing by the grass near the front office. We always hung out with each other before school, so that was the first place Risa and I went. I stood next to Shea, our best forward, and gave her a hug.

    "How was summer camp?" I asked, watching her twirl a lock of black hair. She was definitely tanner than the rest of us, obviously flaunting it in her tank-top and mini skirt.

    "Pretty cool. There was this guy named Joe I was crushing on. He plays guitar in a punk band for his church in St. Louis. We made out a couple of times," she said, almost gushing at the memory.

    Shea ended up being a camp counselor for middle school over the summer and, judging by her happy smile and the new freckles on her cheeks, she seemed to have a good time. I felt a twinge of jealousy knowing I could never afford to travel anywhere, even if it was just a summer camp job.

    "Still talking to him?" Risa asked.

    "Nah." Shea seemed fairly indifferent. "It was a short-lived fling. What about you, Risa?"

    Risa turned pink. "Just some guy I met over the summer. His name is Chris, he's fluent in Spanish and he's super cute. It's nothing serious. We've just been texting and stuff. He's in college, actually."

    I'd heard quite a bit about the infamous Chris the day after I met Jared. Personally, I was glad Risa had found someone she liked that much.

I was engrossed in the conversation, listening to them gush about their respective summer romances, so I hardly noticed when Mitch approached us.

    "Hey, babe," Mitch said, drawing me into his chest from behind.

    He smelled like an ashtray, so I didn't look at him while he talked. Kissing him was the last thing I wanted to do, so keeping my face away from his mouth was probably ideal. "Were you smoking? It's early."

    "Needed one," he said, giving one of those exasperated sighs as if he couldn't believe I'd be remotely concerned. "I'm eighteen now. I can smoke a little."

    He and Risa were the first of our group to hit eighteen, but I was close behind. My birthday was in September, just before homecoming. Shea would be eighteen in June after we graduated.

    "I just wish you wouldn't—"

    He cut me off by tightening his grip around my waist with a smile made of poison. "We're together, aren't we? You need to support my choices."

    I decided protesting was futile and turned back to the group, barely containing my annoyance.

    "Have you guys applied to any schools yet?" Shea asked us. A few of the soccer girls mentioned our local universities, but Risa was definitely the standout.