You'll Always Keep Me

Chapter 1

Seven Years Later

Crap I'm late. So late. Coach is going to kill me.

"Rachel!"

"Yeah?"

"You're already late! Im giving you five minutes before I leave without you!" Crap.

"Kay, dad!" Okay, okay. Where did I put them. Wait. Back patio.

Racing down the stairs I passed my Dad who was grabbing fruit out of the fridge and putting them in his duffel. "Where's your shirt?", he asked unamused. He stared at my sports bra and shorts.

"In the car. Uncle J likes bananas, I just bought some," I called over my shoulder. Whipping the patio door open I grabbed my converse and sat on the floor trying to put them on. "Agh they're damp!"

"I told you to bring them in last night," he gestured towards my shoes with the banana and grinned.

I shimmied my way into the canvas shoes and sprinted towards the front of the house, grabbing my cleats in the process. I clambered into the front seat before reaching into the back for my duffel. Dad started the car after throwing his own bag in the back. Slipping into my jersey, I switched the radio on.

"Coach is going to make you stay OT for being late," Dad said.

We were now on the road and Dad hummed along to the song currently playing on the radio while I laced up my cleats. Usually when I'm at soccer practice, he goes to the gym across the street with Uncle Josh.

"Thank you Dad, for stating the obvious," I replied.

"Hey now. Don't have to be all Lou on me."

"I'm sorry. The weird thing is I've been late thre-... Two times this month and he hasn't made me stay OT," I said putting my foot back on the floor.

He grunted in acknowledgment and continued driving while tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in sync with the song.

"Josh and Trevor are coming over for dinner tonight," Dad said. He still had his accent, which I found incredible since we moved to San Diego seven years ago. My accent was practically gone by now, but certain words brought it out.

"Aunt Carly isn't coming?"

"Business trip."

My lips made an 'o' in recognition as I nodded. He continued, "Pizza sounds good?"

"Yeah, sure no problem. Trev is going to argue for Chinese though," I said pointedly.

He chuckled at how true the statement was. I looked over to my dad in admiration. How could have my dad been a member of a famous boy band, yet he still acts like any other "normal" father? The rest of the ride was filled with small talk and singing along to the radio. He asked me about the new second string girls on the team and school. I asked about his work and how the writing was going. This was a weekly routine for us, it was one of those "Father Daughter" moments.

I unbuckled myself as we pulled up to the field's parking lot. After kissing my dad 'bye' and 'thank you' I stumbled out of the car. The girls were lined up along the side line when I dropped my bag next to the bleachers and stood at the end obediently. Coach Rigman gave me a look that made me mouth a 'sorry' to him.

He smirked at me knowingly and shook his head. "Payne."

"Here," I replied.

He chuckled before continuing, "A real pain in the ass, aren't you?"

"You know it," I grinned at him and he replied with a grin back. Blowing his whistle the drills started.

•••