Coach's Daughter

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Where have you been!" My dad thundered as I burst into the house.

"At Jesse's! She had the stomach flu!" I yelled, sprinting down the hall to my room.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" He yelled, shockingly angry for a tiny bit of tardiness on my part.

"I'm fine. Everything is fine." I groaned, peeling off my clothes as I searched frantically for my soccer bag. I let out a groan scream, don't even know what it was, as I pulled it out from under my bed. "It's fine!" I yelled again at my dad.

I hopped into my uniform, making sure I had my socks and cleats in the bag before sprinting out of my room.

"It's fine!" I repeated. "Are you coming? My car is blocking yours."

"Of course I'm coming." My dad snapped, tossing me a granola bar as he headed out to the car in front of me.

I grabbed a protein shake from the fridge too and had already half chugged it as I got into the passenger seat.

It made me unbelievably anxious when dad drove my car but I knew I would make bad decisions in the moment, still a little bit high from last night and very much anxious about being late for the soccer game that started in twelve minutes.

I taped up my ankles while scarfing down the food, forcing my socks on my feet, sweaty from nerves.

"Remember what we talked about, about the opening in the-"

"Literally I do not give a shit." I muttered. "Don't try and coach me. You're the guy coach. Girls soccer is a completely different sport."

I winced, knowing I had extremely crossed a line.

But dad didn't say anything, an almost worse response than chewing me out right now.

I knew I'd get it later...

I practically flew out of the car before he'd even stopped outside of the soccer arena.

He called something after me but I was already sprinting inside, trying to remember which field the game was on.

I had just laced up my shoes when the team started warm ups, my heart still pounding from the last minute rush.

"Where were you?" Dana asked with a laugh as we jogged around the field.

"Long story." I muttered, not wanting to engage.

Ever since I'd solidified plans to get the hell out of here, I just didn't have it in me to keep up relationships with the girls on the team. I'd be gone in a few months, anyways, and the only thing holding us together was soccer.

I technically wasn't even supposed to be allowed to play after I turned nineteen next month. I'd been playing at the top of the age bracket since I was moved up freshman year. And with every graduating team, I'd be bumped down a year. But now I was outgrowing the system and honestly, I wouldn't be that fussed if I didn't get to finish out the season.

Soccer caused so much internal conflict in my life because as much as I hated the pressure and the drama and everything that surrounded it, there were few better feelings than being on the field in the middle of a game.

I knew I'd regret it when I quit.

But I just couldn't keep going the way I was...

And even the high of winning a game was getting less and less enjoyable...