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"God, this sucks." I groaned again and shoved myself out of bed. I didn't have time to be hung-over. I had to eat breakfast and get hydrated for practice. I followed Becca downstairs where my tired teammates were sitting around in their pajamas eating breakfast and looking like really in-shape zombies. Scary.
The clock on top of the stove read 5:30 A.M. Jeez, this would be a long summer. Practices started at 6:00 A.M. Monday through Friday for the foreseeable future.
"There she is!" Emily called as I wiped the sleep out of my eyes. "Open your package!"
"Is there a stripper in the box?" I asked as I walked toward the kitchen table.
As I bent over the package, Becca caught my eye and mouthed, "It's Liam". I stuck my tongue out at her and started ripping the tape off.
My mom is extravagant and since she can afford it, she usually gives gifts that are way too over the top. That day was no exception. Inside of the box there was enough soccer gear to clothe the entire team. She'd sent me new sports bras, running shorts, leggings, dri-FIT shirts that would fit me like a glove, and some new HYPERVENOM cleats that weren't supposed to be released for another month. Oh, and they were bright pink. My mom knew me well.
"Are those what I think they are?" Becca asked, eyeing the cleats with envy.
"I have no clue how she got these, but somehow I'm not surprised."
Like they would for most girls, getting new shoes and clothes momentarily trumped my hangover. I ran up to my room and put on a new matching set of workout gear before I grabbed my phone to text my mom.
Kinsley: THANK YOU for the birthday gifts. It's too much, but I'll give my teammates some of the gear, too. I'll call you after practice. XX
By the time I finished getting ready, I had to grab a granola bar to eat on the road.
"Here, I bet you didn't remember these," Emily said, handing me two Advil.
"Yes! Thank you, thank you." The excitement of my new workout gear was starting to pale in comparison to my serious hangover. The granola bar and bumpy car ride hadn't settled my stomach, and by the time we made it to the practice field, I felt like I was going to throw up everywhere.
The seniors met us at the doors to the soccer field house with wicked smiles.
"Looking a little worse for wear there, Rookies," Tara laughed, her eyes pinned straight on me. "How you feeling, Bryant?" Her question seemed sweet, but her tone implied that it wasn't meant to be.
"Peachy." I smiled and reached down to grab my water out of my bag.
"Let's go. Coach wants to meet us in the conference room." Tara turned and opened the door so we could file in behind her. But just before she stepped inside, I heard the same sexy voice that I’d heard the previous night— the voice that said, I'm sexy and I know it.
"Morning ladies."
Every single girl froze and we turned in unison. Liam Wilder was standing a few feet away wearing workout gear and a friendly smile. Of course his friendly smile could easily be misconstrued for a take-your-panties-off smile, so it's a wonder we all managed to mutter shocked hellos. I guess he'd pulled up in the parking lot a few minutes after we did. I peered behind him and saw a black Mercedes SUV parked in the spot closest to the field house. A photographer was snapping pictures on the other side of the fence. Jeez, they wake up this early to get pictures of him?
"Oh, hi Liam." Tara smiled wide.
I shot Becca a gag-me face.
"You guys should probably call me Coach Wilder while we're at practice," he admonished. I had to fight to keep from cracking up. The shocked look on Tara's face was absolutely priceless, but it still wasn't enough to make me forget the awkwardness of the situation.
I couldn't look up at him. The last time we'd spoken, I'd literally asked him to show me his tattoos, which we both knew really meant I wanted him to show me his soccer balls. Hah. I'd have to tell Becca that one later. I tugged her and Emily forward without acknowledging Liam and headed for the conference room. Thankfully, Coach Davis was there already and Liam didn't follow us in.
"Take a seat, girls," Coach Davis instructed with a small smile. The best way to describe our coach would be as… a grandmotherly drill sergeant. On the outside, she had greying hair and kind blue eyes, but when you least expected, she'd make you drop and do fifty pushups. She was one of the main reasons I'd picked ULA. She was the top women's soccer coach in the nation and I wanted her to teach me how to improve my game.
