The Love We Deny ✔️ [COMPLETED]

Chapter 7 - The neighbor

I was already feeling exhausted when I dragged my feet to the stadium for the daily two hours training. I didn't know how long my body would be able to handle this intense schedule.

"Thanks, Kat!" Marissa thanked me from across the room when I walked into the changing room. Weird.

What was even weirder was that she wasn't the only one. I brushed it off and would ask Marketa about it later. For now, I needed to get changed and out into the gym before I was late.

"Coach is going to be so mad at you," Alisson immediately said when she saw me. Now I was confused.

"Why? I didn't do anything," I asked, as dread twisted my stomach. Alisson was the more serious one among us. If she was worried then I definitely should be shitting my pants.

"The cookies?" she asked as if it was meant to mean something to me. I rose my eyebrows, urging her to explain. "You didn't bring the donuts and cookies to training?"

"I haven't even seen the cookies, coach has had us on a strict diet since the start of training camp," I answered truthfully. "Why would you think I did that?"

Alisson walked away before coming back with a card in her hand.

"I might be a few minutes late today, in case you get here early treat yourself to a cookie, it's been a rough month, we all deserve it, Kat," she read out loud to me.

Son of a bitch.

"I didn't send this," I argued.

"Well everyone here thinks you did," she countered.

"What in the world?" Coach's voice resonated in the closed gym. I turned around only for the blood in my face to drain. She was looking at the cookie basket like it could explode any minute. "Who brought this?" She eyed each of us carefully. Luckily, Alisson had taken the card away, and no one was speaking up.

"Kat, mam," Naomi's voice sounded. Of course, she'd say that. Then it clicked. My head snapped towards her. The cocky smile she was wearing all but confirmed my thoughts. She was the one behind this.

"Is that true," she eyed me carefully.

"No mam, I've never seen this basket before," I answered.

She sighed before speaking again. While Jenkins was small, she was nothing short of terrifying.

"If you did something then own up to it. Go run around the field twice before coming back up," she said delivering her punishment. If it was anyone else I would have argued, but I knew it would only make things worse.

As I opened the door leading to the outdoor field I noticed a few players practicing. I was too far away to recognize anyone, but I could feel their eyes on me from time to time. It felt humiliating to be punished and then observed through it.

One guy in particular kept fixing me to the point it was starting to feel uncomfortable. At some point, I noticed another guy slapping his helmet hard. I guess he'd chastised him, because he didn't continue, not that I had much more to run by that point. Either way, I internally thanked him.

By the time I got home on that night, I was exhausted, working full-time, and having two hours of intense dance training every two days was draining. I was spent and each step I took to the apartment was torture. The only comfort I had was thinking about the couch I could crash onto as soon as I arrived. Luckily, Coach had given us the next few days off. The first game was on Sunday and she wanted our bodies to be fresh for the game, not that the soreness would have dissipated before then, seeing how shitty I felt at the moment.